Carmela + Amos

Chapter 9 - Amos

          Dense grey clouds clung to the sky as students read aloud from Of Mice and Men. Amos sat behind a desk, swiveling ever so slowly back and forth in a creaky wooden chair. The wall-to-wall windows held his attention as he studied the eucalyptus trees swaying in the rain. It had been days since Amos last read Carmela's journal, and he couldn't bring himself to pick it back up after the last entry. He didn't condone cheating, and something in his gut said she was about to.

The situation was hitting too close to home with everything going on with Lorena.

"Mr. C," a student said. "Can you be our permanent teacher?"

"What?" He snapped out of daydreaming and swiveled in the chair. He'd gotten called that morning to substitute for an English class, which always came in handy between giving guitar lessons.

"You're just so cool and laid back. Stay with us forever."

"Yeah!" said a few others.

"Thanks. I appreciate that." He smiled, smoothing a tattooed hand over his fauxhawk. "But I'm not a real English teacher. Music is my thing."

"Did you mean what you said about giving me guitar lessons?" asked another student.

"I did!" Amos nodded. "That goes for all of you. If you want to learn, I'll teach you."

"Do you do one-on-ones?" asked a brown-eyed brunette, but her friend slapped her arm, prompting them both to go into a fit of whispers and giggles.

"Right..." Amos clapped his hands. "How about we get back to reading? Who's next?"

The students grumbled but continued with their assignment, and Amos returned to daydreaming while pretending to listen.

And he was doing a lot of pretending lately.

In the days that followed their date, Lorena played the role of attentive girlfriend and was sweet to him even after long workdays, which usually left her grumpy. When she came home, they would have dinner together, chat, then snuggle on the couch watching TV. However, anytime Amos returned from refilling popcorn, or a trip to the bathroom, he'd find her tucking her phone away.

It amplified his suspicion. But suspicion was all he had until he could unlock her phone. So Amos was taking his time, waiting for a window of opportunity.

His pocket buzzed, so he reached for the cell phone and glanced at the screen. It was Lorena in a black lace corset and a charcoal grey pencil skirt with a blazer draped over her shoulder. Judging by the photo's background, she was in the restroom at work.

Lorena: this is waiting for you.

Amos straightened and closed the photo, his eyes darting around. The students were still reading, so he tapped out a reply.

Amos: what time are you coming home?

"Mr. C," a student said. "Do we really have to write an essay about this chapter?"

"Yes, Ryan." Amos put the phone away. "Your teacher wrote it for today's curriculum, so that's what you must do."

"If you were our actual teacher, would you still have us write an essay?"

"No, he'd have us watch the movie instead because he's cool!" said another student.

"Actually, I would have you write an essay," Amos replied. "I had to do them when I was your age, so it's only fair I torture you with them too."

"Ah, come on, Mr. C, I thought you were nice," Ryan complained, but the bell rang, followed by the immediate slap of books closing and backpacks zipping.