Good

Mr. Connelly heated the leftovers in the microwave while I sat frozen on his couch. I didn’t know what to do and thought it would be rude to go poking around his things. So I just sat, head swiveling from side to side, taking in the look and feel of his living room. It was masculine and clean. Linear. His couch was a deep burgundy. I was so glad it wasn’t black leather. I might have walked out if it was black leather. And there was no mini bar. I was glad for that, too, though I’m not sure why I had this impression that sleazy bachelors had mini bars in their homes.

 

He had tons of books. He had even more records, and I wondered if he owned the same record he bought for me. I jumped from the couch when I heard the microwave beep and headed for the dining room table.

 

“You don’t have to sit there,” Mr. Connelly said. “You can eat on the couch.”

 

“Okay,” I replied, and headed back into the living room. He followed behind with a big bowl, fork, and glass of Orange Crush.

 

“The Orange Crush is for me,” he said, winking. “What would you like?” He handed me the bowl, and I inhaled something scrumptious—sweet and garlicy.

 

“I’ll have some, too,” I said.

 

“Then we can share,” Mr. Connelly replied, and sat down beside me.

 

I looked at the contents in my bowl. I took one small bite and was hooked. It was also the last small bite I’d take, every subsequent one bigger than what I could actually shove in my mouth. It’s as though I had no manners, and when Mr. Connelly asked me a question, I answered with my mouth stuffed.

 

“What’s your favorite subject in school?” he asked.

 

“Boring.” I shoveled more couscous in my mouth.

 

He chuckled. “Okay. Well, I wanna learn everything I can about you. Care to give me something?”

 

“I like to read.”

 

“Me too.”

 

I looked up from my bowl for a second to scan his collection.

 

“Mine’s bigger,” I said.

 

“It’s not a competition.” He chuckled.

 

I scraped the bottom of the bowl. I wish he would have given me a spoon instead of a fork.

 

“Yes, it is, Mr. Connelly. I have to be better at something. A few things, actually. Because this can’t work otherwise. You’re older than me. You have way more experiences. I have to be better at something. Even if it is only having a few more books than you.”

 

I stared into the empty bowl. I realized I didn’t offer him any.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t share,” I said softly.

 

Mr. Connelly plucked the bowl from my hands and placed it on the coffee table. I gasped when he pulled me onto his lap. My mouth was too close to his, and it smelled like garlic.

 

“First off, I didn’t want you to share. I wanted you to eat the whole thing,” he said. “Second, there is no competition. You are far better at many things than I am, so don’t worry about the age difference.” He let his gray eyes rove over my face. “Third, call me Mark.”

 

I smiled, then looked down at my lap.

 

“First, it was rude that I didn’t, at least, offer, even if I had no intentions of actually sharing.”

 

He laughed.

 

“Second, I have to worry about the age difference because it’s ten years, and that’s a big difference. Third—” I looked up once more straight into his eyes, trying hard to form the word in my mouth. “Mark.”

 

His face lit up. “First, I wanted you to be greedy because you need to eat. You need to take care of yourself. Second, I don’t think ten years will make a difference between us two. You don’t act like a typical eighteen-year-old, and—”

 

“Seventeen,” I corrected. “I’m still seventeen. I won’t be eighteen until December.”

 

Mark shifted. “All right. You’re almost eighteen, but you act older. I assume that means you think older.”

 

“I can be really immature sometimes,” I replied.

 

Mark grinned. “So can I.”

 

“But you’re a guy. Guys are always immature.”

 

“True.”

 

“Are you using me?” I blurted. It came out of nowhere, but I knew I wanted to ask it eventually. I just wasn’t planning on it while I sat in his lap.

 

“No.”

 

“How do I know?”

 

“Think about it, Cadence. Why the hell would I risk losing everything only to use you?”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Do you understand what I mean when I say I could lose everything? I’m talking my friends, my family, my career. I could be prosecuted, for Christ’s sake!”

 

“Could you go to jail?”

 

“Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, it’s a little tougher to put away teachers here in Georgia because of the way the laws are written.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It’s complicated and not worth talking about. But I need you to understand that this isn’t me using you. I’d never take a risk like that knowing all I could lose if I didn’t genuinely care about you.”

 

I nodded. “Why not someone your own age?”

 

“Doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’m attracted to you.”

 

“Why?”

 

He considered me. “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m weird. Or you won’t understand.”

 

“Well, give me a chance, at least.”

 

 He paused before replying, “There’s light around you.”

 

He was right. I didn’t understand, so I tried for a joke. “That’s because my hair’s blond.”

 

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s why.”

 

“Okay okay. I’ll take you seriously. Go on.”

 

Mark thought for a moment. “It’s just light. I don’t know how else to describe it. But I look at you, and I see something shiny and new. Like a treasure that I have to have. I mean, who doesn’t want a treasure, right?”

 

I sat in silence. He took it as an invitation to continue.

 

“I love your goodness. I love that you have a good heart.”

 

“You can’t possibly know that,” I said. “And I’m not even sure that’s true.”

 

“It is true. And I do know.”

 

“How?”

 

“Because you picked up coffee for your father a long time ago when you could have gone to Starbucks without him ever knowing. But you called him and told him where you were because you’re a good girl.”

 

I squirmed. “Well, you’re very perceptive. But I don’t think I have such a good heart anymore. I’m lying to my parents. I sneak out and do things with Avery just so I can have a little freedom. You know what I did on my first night away from the house?”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“I went to Cold Stone Creamery.”

 

Mark nodded.

 

“Did you just hear what I said? I went to get ice cream. That was my big deceptive move.”

 

Mark tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

 

“And that’s exactly why I know you have a good heart, Cadence.”

 

My stomach growled again.

 

“And apparently an insatiable appetite,” he said, and chuckled.