STEPBROTHER: Bad Boy Blues (Taboo Romance)

MONDAY

8:15 A.M.

I
have always been a diligent student, I swear! 

I listen attentively to my teachers even when my classmates would rather gossip or pass around some notes.  I always do my homework in between breaks, the day before they are due.  I participate in class while the other kids doze off because they partied the whole night or binge watched some shows on Netflix or played some fancy video games they’d gush over the next day.  I use the internet to do supplemental research for my subjects while others tweet and chat and post
selfies
on Facebook and Instagram. 

I have always been a responsible student, and I am proud of that fact.

But that day, at Mrs. Tesmacher's class, I was barely able to absorb what she was teaching.  My mind was elsewhere.  And it wasn’t because Wilfred - my next-door neighbor and my childhood friend who sits right next to me in class - had been absent for three days and counting (because of some allergic reaction to a food that his aunt from Texas sent him).  It was because of something else... something bigger... something graver with far more enormous repercussions.

You see, that was the day when Uncle Charlie, my new stepfather, was scheduled to move in while I was in school.  By the time I’ll get home, he'd be there, occupying the living space that I have become accustomed to sharing with my mom… and my mom alone. 

I wasn't comfortable with the idea that we will have to share it with someone else from hereon in.

However, seeing how happy my mother was every time she was with him made the thought more bearable.  I'd be selfish if I would allow myself to want him out of our lives, when he's the reason for her inspired smiles these days... a smile that I never saw from her since the divorce.

Mrs. Tesmacher was talking about the drafting of the Constitution and the Civil War, but somehow, I didn't care.  I felt guilty about my negligence in class, but there was little I could do.  No matter how hard I tried, I can't seem to get the fear of the new living arrangement at home out of my head.

I looked around to see that my classmates were bored to death.  Some of them were chatting with each other.  Some of them were doodling on their notebooks.  Some of them were talking about Emerson's party on Saturday.  Some of them were sleeping, and a few were actually snoring.  All of them, it seemed - including myself - were zoned out.  I can't blame them (us).  History was rarely engaging.

They never noticed me, however, as I was lost in my thoughts and - for the first time in my high school life - I was actually as detached as they were. 

They never notice me. 

They were always caught up in their own world, with their own cliques, with their own interests.  It never bothered me.  I always preferred the solitude of my ways.

Suddenly, my musings were disrupted by a knock on the door, one that likewise jolted the entire class from its stupor.  I pulled up my glasses to get a better look at the cause of the commotion.

Standing by the entrance was a young man, skin-headed, with chiseled cheeks and a strong jaw that made him look like someone who leapt out of a magazine cover.  He was very much handsome, if I may add.

He was wearing a tight-fitting navy blue shirt that gave a copious amount of hints about his well-toned body.  His sleeves were too short, revealing the tribal-inspired tattoos on his right arm.  He was lean, broad-shouldered, moderately muscular, and had a swagger of confidence in the way he carried himself.  He was smirking and a dimple formed on his right cheek.

It was a lovely dimple.

The girls swooned and the boys scrutinized him carefully.  Giggles and chit-chats can be heard all around me. 

"Yes, lad?" Mrs. Tesmacher said, acknowledging his presence.  "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," he replied ever so casually.  "I'm supposed to be in this class."

"Oh, you must be Darwin."

"Yup."

“You’re...” Mrs. Tesmacher paused as she looked at her watch.  “Fifty minutes late,” she continued, “I hope this won’t happen again?”

The new kid just gave her an imprudent shrug, much to my surprise.  I couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of this newcomer!  The others, however, were more intrigued than appalled. 
Ugh
.  High school.

"Class," Mrs. Tesmacher spoke, turning his attention to us.  "I'd like you to meet Mr. Darwin McKenzy.  He'll be your new classmate."

The girls tried their best to stifle their glee but the sound of their sniggers still managed to leak out of their mouths.  The boys squinted their eyes, looking intently at the new guy.  I can only assume that they were either filled with awe or with jealousy. 

I, however, was preoccupied with something else.

McKenzy.

That's Uncle Charlie's surname.

Was it a mere coincidence that our
new
classmate shared the same last name as my
new
stepfather?

"Is there anything you want to say to the class, Mr. McKenzy?" Mrs. Tesmacher asked.

Darwin looked at us, still with that smirk on his face, and spoke. 

"Yo," he greeted.

The girls started to blather once more. 
He's so cool
, someone actually said. 
I've got first dibs on him
, whispered another. 
Invite him to Emerson's party
, suggested someone from the back.

“How do you spell your name, Mr. McKenzy?  Is it MacKenzy with an ‘a’ in between the ‘m’ and the ‘c’, or McKenzey with an ‘e’ in between the ‘z’ and the ‘y’?”  Mrs. Tesmacher was quite obsessive when it came to the spelling of her students’ names.

This guy Darwin didn’t even bother to open his mouth to answer.  Instead, he grabbed a chalk stick and started to write his name on the blackboard.  It was ‘
McKenzy
,’ with neither an
‘a’
nor an
‘e’
.

The same way Uncle Charlie’s last name was spelt.

As he was facing the blackboard, however, he gave the entire class a good view of his very firm buttocks.  More than a few of the females in the room had their mouths agape.

He did have a nice ass, though.

"Do find yourself a comfortable seat, Mr. McKenzy," Mrs. Tesmacher instructed.

The new guy surveyed the room.  His eyes narrowed as if he was making mental computations about the best place where he can position himself.  The girls straightened their posture, hoping that he would choose a seat near theirs.  Some of the guys turned their frowns into smiles, perhaps thinking that if they befriend this Darwin character, a bit of his coolness would rub off on them.

"I think I'll sit right there, Teach," he finally said.  He was pointing towards the middle of the room, somewhere on the third row. 

Somewhere near where I was seated.

Shit!

"Oh, right there?" Mrs. Tesmacher tried to confirm.  "The seat beside Ms. Smith?"

"Yup," he verified.  "That seat next to Ms. Elizabeth Smith."

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. 
He knew my name
.  He knew my name!

The girls all looked at me with equal surprise.  I could hear their murmurs.  H
ow does he know Betty?  Is she his girlfriend?  I thought Betty's a virgin
.

"Mr. McKenzy, do you know Ms. Smith?" Mrs. Tesmacher asked.

"Well... not yet," he answered with that wry smile that has quickly become his irritating trademark.  "But I will soon enough."