But You Said You Loved Me

I took a deep breath as I wrapped my hand around the door knob. I knew Heath was on the other side of the door, and he’s been sending my texts all throughout the day. They begged for my attention, and I haven’t answered a single one. English was the only class we had together, and I could honestly already tell that Heath was pissed off because I wouldn’t answer him.

There was no way I was going to allow him to get away with being nasty to Sarah. Fuck that.

I breathed in one last night and was about to turn the knob when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I was rooted in my spot, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as he spoke out. “I’m sorry, miss, but we’re already three minutes late to class.” I turned my head so that I could see him—but my face was eye-level a white clad buttoned up shirt. I bit my bottom lip, already knowing that this must be the new teacher.

As my eyes made it to his face, my whole face was red. To be completely honest, Sarah’s description did him no justice at all—he was beautiful. So beautiful that I had thought that maybe I was looking at a God. He was grinning widely, his front teeth showing and just a bit crooked. There was also a small gap between them, but he was still beautiful. There was a small patch of hair on his chin and stubble above his top lip.

He was close enough that I could smell what little aftershave he was wearing.

I watched as one of his eyebrows began to rise and I realized that I haven’t said anything. I coughed and looked away. “My apologies, Mr…” I said, trailing off, my eyes finding his eyes. Were they brown, or were they green? It’s so hard to tell.

He chuckled, “Hartnett. If you don’t mind stepping aside, miss, I can open that door you’re so worried to open.” I closed my eyes in embarrassment again before stepping aside. I could hear the chitter-chatter as he began to open the door.

Deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew that I was still very worried to walk into class again, but with Mr. Hartnett looking at me, I chose to suck it up and walk through the door.

Heath looked up immediately. He was sitting in the middle, the desk next to him empty. His cold stare was focused on my face. “Take a seat please, Miss...” Mr. Hartnett said to my left. I bit my bottom lip, looked up at him and said: “Fattore.” I murmured. He nodded. “Well, then, Miss. Fattore, please become acquainted with a desk so that I could start class.” He was very, and clearly, amused. I bit my lip again, nodded, and rushed to the open desk next to Heath while I stared at the floor.

I’m going to regret this. I kept my head down, my eyes burning holes into the light brown surface of the desk when I saw something white land on my desk. It came from my right—from Heath. I grasped the note in my fist and looked up to see the teacher writing his name on the board—JOSHUA HARTNETT. When he was finished, he turned around so that his back was against the white board and he had a simple smile. “Hi everyone,” He began, his voice soft and low, but somehow deep and beautiful all together. I found it…alluring, I suppose. “I’m sorry to hear about Miller’s passing—from my understandings, he was a great teacher and apparently hard shoes to fill.” He scratched at his nose and smiled warmly. “If you are not here for English Literature, please find yourself to the correct room so that we can move on.” I looked down to the note quickly reading the paper:

You’re not going to continue to ignore me, Eleanor. I could practically hear the venom lacing each word as I read them. I breathed in before crumbling it up and tossing it into my bag. I looked over to see Heath, whose eyes were on me and full of anger.

“Great, let’s get started.” I brought my eyes from Heath and focused on the teacher again. I decided to take a good look at him as he clapped his hands in front of him, pulled up his pant legs a bit and sat on top of the desk in front of the room. “I am going to call out names, please answer when your name is called.” He grabbed a list behind him off the desk and started to call out names.

I sighed and stole a look at Heath. He was still looking at me—the look made me feel uneasy and maybe a little scared. The thing with Heath is that he gets a little...touchy, every now and again. It’s part of the reason why Sarah dislikes him.

Okay, I lied.

She hated him—like, hates him.

I sighed and looked from his bright eyes and looked to the front, where Tessa was sitting. I sat there and stared at the back of her blond head for a little. My thoughts started to drift and I thought to how Tessa hated me, and how she’s rather see me dead than sit here next to Heath. “Eleanor?” I mean, I don’t know why she hates me so much. I mean, I guess I do—she has wanted Heath for many years now. “Miss. Fattore?” But I won’t give her the satisfaction, even if I was in turmoil about my relationship with Heath. “Eleanor!” My head snapped up and I stared at Mr. Hartnett, who was looking at me with amusement. “It seems that we’re going to have a bit of a problem this year, Miss Fattore. At first, I was questioning your mobility skills and now it seems to be your hearing.” He shook his head, wrote something down on the attendance sheet before continuing on.

I put my head in my hands as I tried to break away from the memory of embarrassment during the rest of the class.

__

When class ended, all I managed to find out about him was that he was nearly twenty-four years old, lived by himself, and had a little girl names Casey—which was adorable, because he showed us a picture of the both of them one day.

But what really got my attention was how spoke about her—even when he had her name; it was like he was talking about the most important person in the world. And to him, she probably is. And I liked it.
I liked him.

I began to drag myself out of my seat when I felt a hand close on my arm. It was very tight, to the point where it really hurt. I was being pulled into a body and before I knew it, Heath was at my ear. “Don’t say a word, Eleanor.” At first, I was shocked that he was doing this in front of a teacher but once I looked over, I saw Marcy talking to him. He was sitting on the desk and he was smiling. “You will end this nonsense right now, or I will certainly give you something that will really make you be quiet.” My body turned solid and rigid.

“Heath,” I said softly as I tried to pull away from him. My eyes began to sting with unshed tears. “Please, let go, you’re hurting me.” I pleaded.

I felt him yank harder. “I could see you staring at him, you know.” He muttered into my ear. “I could see the way you were looking at him—like you wanted to eat him.”

I shuddered and tried to pull away. “You’re ridiculous, Heath, stop.” I yanked on my arm, just as there was the sound of a voice.

“I do believe that you have a problem with moving, Miss Fattore. Do your feet glue themselves to the floor?” I turned to see Mr. Harnett standing there and Heath’s hand dropped. When his hand left, I stepped a few feet back and noticed Mr. Hartnett’s eyes on my arm, where a red mark was beginning to form. I turned so that my arm wasn’t visible to him and tried to must up a smile, but all I really wanted to do was cry.

“Ha-ha,” I said, fake laughing. “I apologize for earlier—I was trying to think about whether I had forgotten something in my locker or not.”

His eyes shifted to Heath, who was also smiling—but you could tell it was forced. “She’s a bit obtuse, sir.” He said. I bit my bottom lip so that I wouldn’t speak out and shook my head.

“Just a little air-headed, is all.” I commented as I laced my fingers through Heath’s. I noticed Mr. Harnett’s eyes watching as our fingers laced, and he seemed a little…distracted as he was talking.

“We all have our…moments, isn’t that right…Heath, is it?” I chuckled.

Heath smiled and bent down to pretend he was kissing my cheek, but instead he whispered into my ear. “I will see you soon, Eleanor.” He broke away from my grasp and I narrowed my eyes.

“I’m walking home, babe. Call me later.” I said, a sudden burst of confidence surging through my system. Or maybe it was because Jake was home, who knows. Heath glared at me, turned to the teacher and said see you later.

When I was left alone, I grabbed my bag and smiled up at Mr. Hartnett. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.” I was going to walk out, but he spoke up and grabbed my uninjured arm softly—it was a great difference between Heath and him. It seems that he was gentle.

“Is everything okay, Eleanor?” He asked, his eyes finding mine. I felt something stir within my chest, but I ignored it and sucked in air. Oh great god. I bit my lip and nodded, not trusting my voice. “I understand that I’m just a third party in this, but it seems to me that Heath was a little too…forward. Was he hurting you?”

“No,” I said. “And please, it’s Ellie.” He smiled a bit and I realized that deep down, there was a part of me that begged to see this smile every day. I didn’t notice it from my seat, but when he smiled it somehow lit up his whole face. But his face fell serious as he sat on one of the desks.

“Sorry, Ellie.” He began, “If Heath is of any disturbance, you are allowed to remove yourself from that seat.” I shook my head.

“It’s totally fine, Mr. Harnett.” I said.

“Josh, please, but only after class.” He laughed softly. “Just please tell Heath that he needs to understand that he needs to keep his hands off you.” His smile falters a bit and he shook his head with a nonchalant smile. “That is if it is inappropriate.” I didn’t even know he really could see how hard he was holding onto my arm.

“I will, Mr. H—Josh, right.” He gave me a weird look. His smile was crooked, but I really found it beautiful—like his face. Oh, dear Jesus this semester won’t go well at all.

“You’re free to go, Ellie.” I nodded; bit my lip because it was habit. I was about to walk out the door when I heard him call my name. “And Ellie,” He called. I turned to see him looking at my already bruising arm. “If any man thinks it’s okay to do that,” He pointed at my arm, before our eyes made contact. It sent chills down my spine. “Then he surely is not a man.” My cheeks brightened and I nodded, swinging the door open.