4. Feeling Good

CHAPTER 4

FEELING GOOD

MUSE

The alarm screams at me until I slam my hand down on the phone, turning it off. I flop back onto the pillow, just wanting five more minutes—I was having the best dream! Hottie Cooper had a starring role in my bedroom for the second night in a row. His sweet little ass and those pretty eyes were on full display for me and me alone. He looked amazing on his knees, which I’m sure is true in real life, too. How could he not?

Begrudgingly, I rub my eyes and roll out of bed slowly. My body takes a few minutes before allowing me to start my routine, which means it must be medication day. I’ll have to worry about that later, and if I waste any more time thinking about Chase Cooper’s assets, Dani will usurp the bathroom and I’ll be late.

After I shower and towel dry my hair, I dig through the closet for something cute to wear. I don’t always get to wear jeans to work since the school deemed it unprofessional. However, we’re outside today, learning about rockets. No way am I wearing my expensive clothes for that.

After looking everywhere, I finally find the jeans shoved in the back of a drawer. As I open them, I understand why. Gigantic holes slashed through the legs at random intervals stare back at me. I don’t have to be a detective to know who did this. She’s too damn skinny to fit into my clothes, but that doesn’t stop her from playing fashionista in my closet since she could crawl.

“DANIELLA!”

“Sup?” She pops in, her hair already done up in a cute hat. Some days I hate her so much. She rarely goes beyond the smallest amount of effort in her look, and yet it always comes out perfect. Like this morning, she’s had shows two nights in a row, which means maybe four hours of sleep each of those nights. But she looks ready for a cover shoot for a magazine.

I managed almost seven hours last night and still look like the remains of a bridge troll after being hit by oncoming traffic.

“What the fuck did you do to my pants?”

“I turned them into designer jeans that will look way better on you now,” she says matter-of-factly. “What?! You got them for like five dollars at the swap meet and rarely wear them. Now, we can sell them for like twenty bucks and you can get new jeans that are cuter.”

“Those were my only pair of jeans I could wear to school, you scissor happy asshole!” I stare at her with my mouth open as she shrugs. “I need coffee before I can handle this bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady!” our mother calls out casually as she walks by to take her turn in the bathroom.

“Grrr, I don’t have time for this!” I push Dani out the door and slam it shut. At least she didn’t cut them up too high. I swear, she believes two short years in fashion school has turned her into an expert. This is how her world works. She dabbles, becomes bored, declares herself a master of whatever she’s dabbling in, and moves on. Fashion school, art, music, she takes nothing beyond the boundaries of her comfort zone. A shame, because she’s talented as hell.

I pull on a pair of plaid leggings before the pants and check the mirror. Fuck—they do look stupid good.

I drop onto the edge of my bed in front of my makeshift vanity and stare at myself. Dark bags under my eyes tell me I need to take my meds soon. It’s probably also why I’m more frustrated with Dani than usual. I move the books and computer parts to the side before I fish out my expensive makeup and stare at it just like I did yesterday.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, girl. It was a dream! He’s not coming back to the school and if he did, you’re…” I gaze up in the mirror and smirk. “Way too much fucking woman for his skinny white boy ass. Even if he is beefy right now.” Still, I put the makeup on and check myself out at least four more times before I grab my things.

The delicious aroma of cinnamon and sugar fills the house and wraps around me as I head for the kitchen. Mama gets up every morning to prepare three to-go cups of café de olla for us so long as she doesn’t have the early shift. The scent brings back memories of my abuela and the handful of trips we took to Mexico to see her before she passed. Mama’s coffee tastes better than anything I can get at the fancy places, saves me a few dollars on coffee, and it makes her happy. Wins all around.

“Mama, are you ready?” I call out when I don’t see her sitting at the kitchen table. “I have to be at school early on Wednesdays, remember?”

“It’s Thursday, don’t you remember? I’m taking the bus today.” She’s getting old, but still feisty as hell. She glances up as she closes the fridge and whistles. “Mira! All fancy again today just for school, huh? Are you meeting someone special? A new teacher you’re trying to impress, maybe?”

She enjoys dancing right on the dangerous edge of pestering me about my love life. Which doesn’t exist. Not in a few years, anyhow. I’ve found better ways to spend my free time like the internet, robots, and naps. Also, the occasional trip to an exclusive club I’m part of. It’s not the fanciest place, but it’s good enough for what I can afford on a teacher’s salary. Mama doesn’t know about it and Dani pretends not to after she found a riding crop and a strap-on in my closet once.

“No, mama,” I answer as I give her a kiss on the cheek. “I can choose to be pretty for myself and not for a man!”

“You need to find someone and settle down. You’re getting too old.”

“Uh huh, and where would you live if I did that?”

“Oh shit! Look at you Ms. Hots-For-Teacher!” The whirlwind that is Dani comes through the kitchen, swiping up her cup and waiting for an answer. She leans toward me with a devilish grin, and in a sing-song voice asks, “Is this for your new little friend, Coop? Jamie’s thing happened the other night, didn’t it? You did meet him, right?”

“What’s a coop ?” My mother asks me as she sits down to read her morning stories. This woman loves her tabloids. “Did you get birds? I thought you played on computers all day?”

“Mama! My friend—Chase Cooper! The Hollywood hottie of the year? The cool as fuck guy that I hang out with?” Dani shoots back, looking at Mama like she’s crazy. “Oh my god, you know him! He’s in your papers almost every flippin’ day! The hot white boy!”

“I can’t keep up with your friends, Daniella. You have too many boys. Don’t swear.”

“And girls,” Dani remarks under her breath, and I try not to laugh.

Dani walks over and flips the pages of Mama’s paper until she lands on a picture of Chase. My breath catches seeing him in the dark sunglasses and baseball cap with his dog at his side. Clearly, this picture came from the paparazzi. When I glance up again, Dani and Mama are both staring at me with looks that say they know where my mind went. Shit.

“Mama, I don’t play on computers all day. And yes, Dani, he was there,” I answer as I grab an apple, attempting to make my escape. But Dani dashes ahead of me and blocks my path, putting her hands out against the door frame. “Get out of my way, Dani! I’m going to be late.”

“Not until I get answers! Did you talk to him?” She narrows her eyes, expecting something more. “Out with it! I haven’t seen you since and I want the deets!”

“Dani—” I stare harder at her and see the mischief dancing in her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing,” she hums, sipping her coffee. “Just, you know, working my magic!”

“Oh, sure. You get one couple together, and now you’re some enchanted matchmaking bruja ? You didn’t even have anything to… wait, did you?”

“I may have suggested Jamie take his bestest buddy with him. And which school should they go to next? I also may have told them to ask you if they needed anything—like a place to store way too many toys that Chase brings because I gave him the wrong number of kids.”

“When does Xander come back so you can be too busy having sex to meddle in my life?”

“Ouch!”

“RENATE!”

“Oh, come on, mama!” I roll my eyes and push my glasses up my nose so I can glare at Dani. “You’re crazy and bored. That’s a dangerous combination. I’m going to work. Besides, he’s too famous for me.”

“Say hi to Marta for me!” she sings out as I get to the front door and stop long enough to glare at her. “Yeah. Marta’s in on it, too! You need to learn to trust me!”

* * *

In the middle of a particularly spicy daydream about a certain Hollywood hunk, a student interrupts me to tell me our remaining robot has finally died. I called in every favor I had to get those robots four years ago since the school won’t pay for them, and they’re too expensive for me to buy out of pocket.

When I check on the machine to see what I can do, I get an idea and challenge the class to get the thing working again. That should keep them busy and give me a little time to figure out a longer lasting solution—or to get lost in my own mind again.

My phone dings in my desk drawer, and I pull it out to check.

Marta

Your man is on TV. He’s looking fiiiiine.

My what?

Marta

CHASE!!

Not now, I need to work on a letter to the school board to replace a robot.

My department always struggles, and I’ve pulled all the strings I can to keep the school from shutting down the robotics program. The kids love it, and so do I. We’ve even had two students win scholarships back when we could enter the competitions. The school board loves to brag about our STEAM focused middle school and how it helps students, but they aren’t interested when we ask for more money to fund the programs.

Maybe I should daydream about getting a bonus this year. With that, I can afford a small drone or one of the basic programmable arms. Or I could sell some things at the swap meet like Dani always suggests. However, I don’t have a lot of things to spare. Keeping the roof over our head is hard enough.

Marta

Yikes. Maybe Chase can get you one?

Yes. Maybe Chase Cooper could sweep me off my feet and buy every damn student in my classes a robot . I snicker at the thought as a chime sounds from my computer.

Back to reality, Renate.

Office

You have a package at the front. Maintenance will bring it by later.

Rather than wait, I assign two of the students to retrieve it, but a few minutes later, they’re running back into my classroom, out of breath.

“Ms. Silva! We can’t get it!” Carlos announces.

“It’s too big, Ms. Silva,” Maria backs up his story, adding, “Mr. Jenkins is bringing the box now. What did you get us?”

“Is it a new robot?” Carlos asks.

“A car?” Maria follows up.

I’m trying to remember what the heck I ordered when a giant box appears at the doorway. The box is taller than I am—although that isn’t saying much—and close to eight feet long. I definitely didn’t order this.

“Hey, Ren,” Craig Jenkins, the school maintenance worker, says cheerfully. He maneuvers the hallway and small door, wheeling the rest of the way into the room. That’s when I notice the giant red bow on the box and I’m even more confused. “Is today your birthday or something?”

“No, not my birthday. We’re sure it’s not ticking, right?”

He graciously laughs at my poor attempt at humor as he hands me a card. “The delivery guys said there’s information in the box about having them come back for training and installation if we need it.”

“Training and installation?”

I take the card without looking at Craig because I’m too busy reading the words smart and screen on the box. That can’t be right. I’ve requested one of these things every year I’ve been here and I’m always denied. And the ones I’ve asked for are much smaller than this one. This thing is going to take up an entire wall.

“Shit. Miley will kill me,” I mumble under my breath, trying to remember if I got drunk and ordered things online. Not likely, since my credit cards don’t have enough room for a sandwich, let alone a piece of equipment like this.

“Who’s it from, Ms. Silva?”

“What is it?”

I giggle as Brad Pitt screams in my mind, ‘What’s in the box?’ I ignore the eager shouts of the students and open the card, almost dropping it when I read the note.

Renate-

Sorry for bumping into you last night, but not that sorry since I got to meet you. I hope you can put this to good use. Any chance you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?

-CC

He’s included his number at the bottom of the card, but I can’t read it with my hands shaking the way they are now. A smart board? Dinner? What the heck happened to flowers or candy? Did this man hit his fucking head last night when he ran into me? Is this some kind of fucked up joke?

Dani .

She’s up to something. But how could she afford a smart board?

I sigh and drop my hands to my sides. “Does Miley know yet?” I’m a little relieved when Craig shakes his head. “Okay. Let’s put it in the back. I need to figure out what’s going on, and if he sees it, he’ll want the damn thing somewhere useless, like his own office.”

“Why can’t we keep it, Ms. Silva?”

“Who’s it from?”

“Is it from your boooooyfriend ?”

The class becomes a barrage of questions and giggles until I finally turn back around to get them all to sit back down and be quiet. I can’t blame them. I’m ecstatic too, even though we can’t keep it. It’s going to hurt to explain why, though. It’s also going to hurt to tell Chase he has to send the screen back. Assuming he’s the one who sent the box.

“It’s a gracious gift from a…a kind person.” Snickers fill the classroom as someone makes kissing noises. These kids are great, but they’re also assholes sometimes. “However! It’s not fair for this room to have one when no one else does. So we will either be returning the screen or maybe sharing it with other classrooms and students.”

I peek down at the card again as they grumble about the rules. I add his number to my contacts while I shake my head—I can’t believe I’m doing this. If this ends up being a prank, my sister will not live to see her next birthday. I grab a marker and scribble over his initials and the number in case someone else finds the card.

I open up a new text thread and stare at the screen. This is a horrible idea. He’s an actor, and I’m a teacher. He travels the world. It’s rare that I leave Los Angeles. He’s rich and famous, and I’m barely scraping by. But what if it ends up being nothing but a kind gesture by an out of touch movie star and I’m overreacting? Don’t I deserve dinner with a hot man once in my life?

What the hell? Dani is going to think she’s an actual matchmaker now, which means I’ll never hear the end of it. But it’s better than regretting a free dinner.

I stare down at the card again.

No, this is all too much and I need to tell him to return the damn board and pass on dinner. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with a high-profile relationship, friendship, or whatever else he wants out of this.

Still not sure what to do, I shove the phone in my pocket. I can figure that out later when my mind stops buzzing.