C5 Blind Dates

I massage my temple and Alinn, the sweet teenage girl, asks, “Are you okay, Miss Cassie? Should we take a break? Maybe you can just leave me references that I can study. There’s no need for you to sit with me.”

I smile at her. “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about me and Teacher Mark, but you should focus on the review and stop worrying about your heartbroken teacher.”

She makes a small smile. She has misaligned teeth, but her eyes are bright and huge. Her face is circular and small. She is an adorable young woman, not to mention a very smart girl.

I sigh as I remember that misstep at the police station. It’s been a month since then. I didn’t dare to call that Liam Chapman again. My plan failed to make that bitch-Hilda feel what she’s done to me—if only her husband is half as good-looking as Liam, then maybe–

I shake my head in annoyance. My plan failed completely, and a total stranger has fucked me. F*ucked, even I definitely enjoyed it. I have already burned the calling card, but I can remember his phone number. I memorized it the moment I glanced at his card. Sometimes, I hate my memory. Because now, I am restraining myself not to pick up the phone and invite him for another night of pleasure.

I heave another deep sigh and lean my head on the table. I am getting worse. Lately, I am becoming hot and bothered. I feel the need to touch myself. I am too busy to actually do it, though. Besides, I doubt it will feel as good as that man made me feel. I wonder if I get pregnant… will I be able to see him again? Ugh! He’s just one call away. All I need is the courage to dial his number!

Still, I don’t understand why a Chapman is here. His business is in the city. Is he, perhaps, embroiled in some crazy things? Or is he going to build a radio station in this place? Is that why he is at the police station? But that can’t be true. If it is, everyone should have heard it by now.

“Miss Cassie?”

I jump in surprise and realize that I’ve been staring at nothing for a while. “Oh! I’m sorry, Alinn.” I take a deep breath. “I think you are correct. I need to take a rest.”

She beams at me. “Don’t worry, Miss Cassie. I will study everything that you give me while you are not feeling well.”

“You won’t be getting rid of your teacher that soon, Alinn. I will be your substitute coach for a while.”

Her grin widens. “I’d love that, Miss Cassie,” she responds.

Oh, she is just too adorable. I hope that if I have a kid, he or she will be as adorable as her. Not right now, though. Complications like that are not good. I won’t appear as docile in the eyes of these conservative people if I had a kid out of wedlock.

********************

I sip on my glass and appreciate the tangy taste of the wine. The man in front of me is looking at me with interest. However, I don’t find him interesting at the very least.

“What are your hobbies?” he asks.

Mark and I are still together. However, half of my co-teachers are insisting on meeting other men–as friends, they say. They also add that I need to put pressure on Mark too, that anytime I can leave him, I need to give him the thrill until marriage… or so, they say. Just to silence their protest, I agreed, and besides, I doubt I will ever cheat on Mark, especially when it’s already a fading relationship. I can just end it before I even get together with someone.

“Nothing much. Just gardening. Learning to cook,” I answer. “Since I am not earning well, I need to have cheap hobbies.”

I am lying. Learning to cook is cheap IF I’m only using simple ingredients. Gardening is cheap IF I am not buying some expensive seeds and fertilizers.

“That’s great! It prepares you for being a housewife.”

I smile. I didn’t add that I like to try different things. I like books. I like practicing everything I’ve learned before. I learn faster than most people I know. In fact, I want to do a lot more, travel to a lot of places, and try out different food. However, if I say that, I will be labeled as… someone that they don’t want to be their wife.

“And you? What are your hobbies?”

“Nothing much too. Just games. Watching movies.”

I don’t categorize them as hobbies. They are entertainment, unless he is playing competitively and IF he’s learning something from them.

Still, I give him a chance. “You join those gaming competitions?”

“Ah no! I am not that good. It’s just to pass up time.”

A boring man through and through. I sip on my glass of wine again to hide my distaste. Sometimes, I blame my parents for raising me like this. We are too independent and too competitive, and now, my taste in men has become too high. At least, that’s what people tell me. Now, I doubt if someone will ever meet what I want in a man.

Except maybe that director of Champion Music. I am still curious about what he is doing in this province. He’s not the same as me who is running away from my friends who hooked up together. Is he involved in some high-profile crime?

“I heard you’ve been receiving a lot of rewards at your school.”

“Ah, those are just simple rewards. They just had no choice but to give it to me.”

Another lie. It has a decent cash prize or else I won’t join it. And besides, the participants are all teachers from all over the province and region.

“Whew! That’s a relief. I thought I would date an achiever.”

So, he is insecure. “Why? Will there be a problem if I am an achiever? I mean, I am a teacher. We can be excellent role models for our students.”

“Whoa there! You are pretty opinionated.”

I scowl. Opinionated? I haven’t even said half of what’s running through my mind.

“Sorry about that. Is it bad?” I ask while trying to tone my voice down.

“Well, wives are supposed to obey their husbands.”

I blink at that. Ugh. I am already expecting this, but it still leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

“You know that part of the vow, to love and obey?” he adds.

I smile at him. “I understand.”

Or maybe I should have insisted on my right to that city guy? I mean, at least, he won’t tell me that I should obey him. I laugh and the guy I am having a date with thinks that I am laughing at what he is saying. He beams and begins to talk more.

So, I lean my chin on my hands and make it seem like I am listening, even if my mind is on an entirely different matter. I am thinking of my life in the city. The pain is no longer there. It’s been already a year. But I still won’t return unless I have burned all the bridges. Because, what if I am invited to their wedding, to their child’s christening, to every happy moment of their life? What then?

A smile appears on my lips, and the man in front of me reddens. Right, I’d rather cut off all our bridges, rather than be that bitter aunt in the corner of the room who is glaring murder at everyone yet looking at the husband with desire. No, I won’t degrade myself to that.