ADDIE

EVEN THOUGH ENGLISH is my favorite class, it’s gotten harder and harder to pay attention.

When I look at Nathaniel—who I have to call Mr. Bennett when we are in class together—all I can think about is how it feels when he touches me. I am counting down the seconds until we can be together in the darkroom.

It used to be that when we were in class together, Nathaniel would smile or wink at me. It made me feel like he thought I was special. He’s careful not to do that anymore, and even though I understand why, it still drives me wild when he winks or smiles at other girls. We don’t communicate at all during school hours anymore, except in the most professional way. If there’s something he wants to tell me, he sends me a message through a Snapflash, which vanishes after sixty seconds.

I can’t wait until we’re alone. It’s been over three weeks since we began sneaking off together to the darkroom—nearly every day. On the days he works at the school newspaper, I go to the library and do my homework while I wait for him to be done. I suggested joining the paper myself, but Nathaniel said it was a bad idea. He said the more time we spend together in front of other people, the more likely it is that they will catch on.

Ever since that first time we made love in the darkroom, we have done it every single time. Pretty much the first thing he does when we get inside the room is start kissing me and pull down my pants, sometimes before we’ve even said two words to each other. It was stupid to think all we would do is kiss. It makes him so happy. I enjoy it too, but it thrills me most how much he likes it. He says that he and Mrs. Bennett don’t have sex anymore. That they haven’t in a long time.

While I sit in English class, struggling to focus on the lesson, an announcement blasts over the loudspeaker. I recognize Principal Higgins’s voice.

“Attention!” she calls out. “I want to offer a big congratulations to the winner of the Massachusetts poetry award, from our very own Caseham High…”

I sit up straight, my heart pounding. That is the poetry contest that Nathaniel entered me in. The one where he chose my poem out of all the others to feature. He was only allowed to choose one, so if the winner is from our school, that means that I won. I actually won a prestigious statewide poetry contest!

The principal continues, “We would like to congratulate Mary Pickering!”

What?

Mary Pickering? That’s Lotus. But he didn’t enter Lotus in the competition—that’s why she was so upset. So I don’t understand. How could she have won if he didn’t even enter her?

I look over at Nathaniel, but he is looking away. It’s like he’s refusing to catch my gaze.

If I couldn’t concentrate before, it’s about a thousand times worse now. I don’t understand what happened. He told me he entered me in that contest. Was he lying?

No, Nathaniel would never lie to me. We know each other too well for that. Except I can’t come up with another explanation.

I try to catch him after the bell rings, but he takes off like a flash, and I’m left behind, my head still spinning. We’re supposed to meet after he’s done with the school paper, but I can’t wait that long. So I grab my phone and send him a message in Snapflash:

What happened? I thought you entered me in that contest?

Thankfully, his reply comes soon after:

I promise I’ll explain everything when we meet.

I stare at the words on the screen, which don’t explain anything. But at least he admits he has explaining to do.

On top of that, he ends up being twenty minutes late for our liaison in the darkroom. I stand there waiting for him, getting more and more irritated, and when the door finally opens, I’m ready to jump out of my skin.

“Addie.” He reaches for my hands to try to bring me close to him. “I am so glad to see you. It’s been a long day.”

When he touches me, I usually melt into his embrace, but this time, I resist. I am angry at him, damn it. He owes me an explanation. “What

happened with that poetry contest, Nathaniel? You told me you entered my poem.”

“I know, and I am so incredibly sorry.” He hangs his head. “You have to know, you were my first choice. I loved your poem, and I think you would have won easily. But Lotus went to the principal and complained that I had chosen a poem written by a junior, when traditionally seniors are entered in the contest. I wanted to fight for you, but given my feelings for you, I was worried it was a conflict of interest. And you have a chance to be in the contest next year, but this was Lotus’s last shot.”

I have spent most of the past two hours being furious at Nathaniel, but now I realize that was misguided. Lotus was the one who went to the principal to complain. That is so low, especially considering her recent attempts at friendship.

“I’m so sorry.” He places his hands on my cheeks, drawing my face to his. “I should have fought for you. I was just scared that the second I said your name to the principal, she would see through me and know how deeply I cared for you.”

Despite everything, his words warm my heart. He cares for me—deeply. “It’s okay,” I finally say. “It’s not your fault. I understand the position

you were in.”

“Oh, thank God.” His shoulders sag. “I thought you were angry at me and would never forgive me. I was going out of my mind, thinking that when I got here, you might not be here.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

He presses his lips against mine, and it makes every part of me spark with electricity. I never knew that kissing another person could be like this. I bet Nathaniel never knew it either. He talks a lot about how hard it is being married to somebody who he never felt any connection to and how being with me is like something he has never experienced before.

“You have become so important to me, Addie,” he breathes when his lips separate from mine. “We love with a love that is more than love. With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven coveted.”

“Annabel Lee” has been my favorite poem for many years, but I’ve never felt the words so deeply. After all, I have no other thought than to love and be loved by him. It almost frightens me how head over heels I am for Nathaniel. He’s already my first thought when I wake up in the morning

and the last thing I think about as I’m falling asleep. When I write poetry these days, it is always about him. I am so in love with this man.

“I only wish I could’ve met you back when I was sixteen,” he murmurs. “How unfair is the universe? I finally meet my other half, and I am two decades older than you.”

“At least we’ve found each other now,” I point out. “That’s more than a lot of people get.”

“Very true.”

We don’t have a lot of time before both of us have to get home, and there’s always the fear of being discovered, so usually we get right to it. It doesn’t last long, and Nathaniel says that’s normal when you like somebody as much as he likes me. I think of how happy I’ve been making him and the fact that he is so miserable at home, with his wife. She can’t make him happy the way I do. And she’s always nagging him to get home, so we can’t stick around and talk like we want to.

Not that things would be super easy even if he weren’t married. My mother would still get suspicious if I got home too late, and nobody at school could find out, of course. But if he weren’t married to Mrs. Bennett, I could go to his house and we could have sex in an actual bed instead of this uncomfortable darkroom. The idea of having sex with Nathaniel in a bed seems so exciting and grown-up.

Plus, eventually I will graduate from high school, and I will get to date whoever I want. But if Nathaniel is still with his wife, he will be trapped.

If only Mrs. Bennett weren’t around. It would be so much better.