Created by Diane Brown, Buena Beach is an online soap opera, giving up all the juicy details of some of the hottest guys and gals of Buena Beach, a small town in Southern California. Check back everyday for a new episode here on HelloBeautiful.com.
It’s time for a lobotomy. Barring surgical removal of part of my brain, there’s no other way I can figure to get my mind off of Eddie (a.k.a. Mr. Gonzalez). I suppose my sentiments towards him are symptomatic of being ridiculously obsessed with someone. Utterly consumed. I wake and ask myself, “I wonder what Eddie’s having for breakfast this morning.” Or while brushing my teeth, I think “I bet Eddie uses Colgate…and probably flosses regularly.” Even as I sat idly in the in the bathroom stall this morning, I thought of the guy, musing on whether he stocks his bathroom with regular toilet paper or the expensive 2-ply stuff.
So I’m trying my best to apply my cognitive abilities to weightier topics, like the hefty Blue Ribbon School application that I’ll need to work on before tomorrow’s School Site Council meeting. But every time my head comes up for air, the thoughts return. When I accidentally write ‘Eddie’ in the space marked Expenditure Per Pupil, I decide it’s time to take a break and get from behind my desk.
And before I know it, my feet have taken charge, tired of waiting for my fingers to dial Eddie’s number or type up a flirty e-mail to send his way. They’re headed straight for North Campus, where his fourth period will soon be letting out. On the way, my thoughts are racing with ideas on appearing as casual and nonchalant dropping by as I would have before my recent infatuation with him. I finally decide to tell him that my visit is to get his census numbers for the day, something I need for the application, and eventually let out a simple “Boy, am I hungry” line, to which he’ll hopefully respond with a “Me too – hey, you wanna go grab a bite to eat?”
When I make it to his classroom, seeing him give out a homework assignment just as the bell rings, I realize that my memory of him over the last several days since I’ve seen him wasn’t doing him justice. This whole fixation on Eddie is so strange and surreal, only materializing last week. I hadn’t given dude a second thought until another teacher, Jina, hinted that his asking me to join him for an Angel’s game was his attempt at asking me out on a date. My take had been that his gesture was straight up along platonic lines due to my reputation as an Angel’s fan. But with that little seed Jina planted, my imagination grew an entire forest of scenarios, complete with daydreams of barefoot walks along the beach, candlelit dinners at fine restaurants, a good ol’ fashioned one-knee proposal in front of the entire Buena Beach High student body, about six or seven babies, and the hottest sex ever known to man.
And whereas I’d probably be perfectly content to living in my little fantasy world for a good year or two, whatever sane part of me that still exists is begging me to take a risk; to do what I can to make those dreams a reality.
So I dive in, smiling as he looks up from his paperwork to see me in his doorway. He waves at me when I enter, the last of his students heading out to leave us alone. But now that my feet have gotten me this far, I wish they would’ve steered me to the bathroom first so I could have touched up my makeup and checked my hair. “What’s going on, Eddie?” Usually I’d refer to him as Mr. Gonzalez, but no one else is around.
“Not much. Just waiting for my coffee to kick in. I was out spinning last night.”
I give him my best empathetic face, telling him that he should join the Science Department’s coffee club – theirs is the strongest. Instead of going with my alibi, I resolve that with our short lunch period, I’d better get straight to business. “My gosh, I am soooo hungry.”
Eddie shakes his head. “Not me. Think I’m going to head over to the nurse’s office and take a nap on one of those cots. Hopefully, there aren’t any sick kids in there.”
Damn. I don’t have a Plan B. Think…think! “Uhh, you want me to give you a back massage?”
Oh my gosh! What the…?
Shoot. Repair. Repair. “Just kidding!” I say, cheesing my butt off, hoping he’ll start laughing too.
It takes a moment, but he eventually cracks a smile before rolling his shoulders back. “Actually, I could probably use a little work up. You know how to give a good massage? Here, let me see your hands,” he says playfully, reaching over and pulling me towards him by my elbow.
I’m sure both of us have that infamous deer-in-the-headlights look on our mugs when we turn, hand-in-hand, to find a student standing in the doorway. Eddie quickly stands up straight and scoots a foot away from me. “Good morning, Lauren. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” says the girl, who doesn’t even acknowledge me as she makes her way inside. If she doesn’t say anything to me soon, I’m going to write up a citation and send her home for that joke of a skirt she’s wearing, at least five inches above her knees. Lucky for her that Mr. Gonzalez has some home training.
“Lauren, I’d like you to meet Ms. Canto, our Vice Principal.”
“Nice to meet you, Lauren.”
She offers a polite hello before turning back to Eddie. “I just wanted to thank you again, Ed– er, um…Mr. Gonzalez for last night. I had a great time.”
Hold up, now. Last night? Had a great time? And did she just call him Eddie?
“Oh,” he says, his cheeks starting to redden.
“I swear, I though I might pee nacho cheese after how much we ate,” she says.
Wait…did he take her to the game?
“I’m definitely gonna invest in some gear to go with the hat you bought. Red just happens to be my favorite color.”
“Hey, uh…no problem,” he says, using a folder from his desk to gently nudge her towards the door. “Uh, okay. Well, have a nice lunch, Lauren.”
“Sure. No problem. See you on Saturday.”
Unbelievable. I’d never suspect something like this from Mr. Gonzalez. What the heck is he thinking? And how can I get past this – I can’t have six children with a pedophile.
“Alice,” he begins as Lauren and her little skirt exit the room.
“Yah, Mr. Gonzalez. I really need to go…starving.”
He hustles over to stop me as I march towards the door. “Wait, Alice. I can explain.”
Unfortunately for him, I’m not ready to hear his explanation. I take out my phone and pretend to answer a call, speaking as if the phantom on the other line has urgent news. “Sorry, Mr. Gonzalez,” I whisper loudly. “Gotta take this. I’ll see you soon.”
He stops following me as I head back to my office, able to escape just before my few tears of disappointment plunge down onto my cheeks.
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