Sage's Conquest Pt. 2

“Ice?” Six months ago, we had tried to keep in touch, but with our hectic schedules of work, family and school, it was hard. Eventually, he became as out of mind as he was out of sight.
“Sage,” he breathed, giving me a hug that pulled me off my feet. I giggled, happy to see him and to have used mints earlier to reduce the taste of Mr. Drake in my mouth. He set me down, and I gazed. “I’ve missed ya.” A shy smile unlike my own spread across my face.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’re only an hour away, and I’m not as busy now. You want a ride home?”
“I would, but my car’s over there,” I declined, pointing to the Mercedes ML350 across the lot.
“Nice.”
“Yeah.” I looked around nervously. It was great seeing Ice again, but I didn’t want Mr. Drake to come see me talking to a guy right after what had happened. It would be hard enough for him to bring himself to take the risk again. Looking back up at Ice, I realized I had never felt comfortable enough with him to ask his real name, and when I had, I had been to shell-shocked to remember to do so. “I can’t keep on calling you Ice forever, ya know.”
He laughed, “It’s Armand. Armand Jameson.”
“Mmm, so how’d you get Ice?
“Ah…well…I used to help my cousin do her skating lifts.”
“Never pictured you for the ice skater, Manny,” I said, instantly abbreviating his name as I teased him. I laughed as he glared down in mock offense. “Well, I ha--”
“Sage.” Mr. Drake cut off my words greeting me as he passed by.
“Mr. Drake, wait.” I motioned for him to come closer, and he walked back to me. “This is Armand, a friend of mine. This is Mr. Drake, my old english teacher.” I know it looked absolutely ridiculous for me to introduce them, but I couldn’t very well let Mr. Drake go home thinking I got around. They nodded in each other’s direction, Armand eying me quizzically and Mr. Drake excusing himself.

When Drake was out of earshot, I turned to Armand. “So, Ice, Armand, Armani, Manny… which one do you like to be called?’
“No one calls me Manny, but it sounds good coming from you.” Following a short pause, “You want to tell me what that was about?”
“Nope, not really. Listen, I’ve got to drive Rye and Iz to work (you remember her, right?), go to work, pick them up and do some more errands. I wish I could hang out, though. Next time you come down, give me a call.”
“Okay. I remember her. Who’s Rye? And, yeah, I’ll call next time.”
“My half-sister. Her mother moved to France, so now she lives with me and the ‘rents. You want my new number?”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his cell and entering the numbers as I said them.
“I’m already late, so…”
“Okay. It was great seeing you.” Nodding, I crossed the lot and entered my car. I started the ignition, which turned on the radio. I pulled out of parking and answered my vibrating phone. It was a random number.
“Hello?”
“By the way, I love the outfit.”
Looking back, there he was waving at me. I smiled, said thanks and hung up.

The minute I opened my eyes I knew it was going to a bad day, a very bad day. Coming out of the shower, I heard the phone ring. I checked the time on the clock and decided to ignore it. I slipped on gray sweatpants and a white tank, pulling my curly hair into a messy bun. It was a hot day, but I grabbed a sweater just in case there was a cool down later on. Driving down the street, I finally checked my missed call. It was Mr. Drake. That’s just what I needed…to miss a call from --- NO. THAT WAS JUST WHAT I NEEDED, I thought while a car drove into my rear end and my seat belt pushed me back against my seat. I took a deep breath and jumped out of the car. The damage to both of the cars was minor, but the dent was large enough to get my ass kicked when my father found out. I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the dent and then turned to the idiot who had been behind the wheel.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Rushing into the school so I wouldn’t be that late seemed minor now that I’ve got to get my tardy pass from good old Mr. Drake. Things could not possibly get better.
“Actually, Sage, I need you to see something. I‘ll be back in a minute, Tammy.”

Tammy was the school gossip and interned for the office. I rolled my eyes at him, and her. 
“Mr. Drake, I’d love to see “something,” but I’m late for…which block is it, Tammy?”
“Umm, second.”
“Second block, so could you just sign my pass?”
“Sage, watch your tone. We need to discuss a friend of yours.”

I sighed heavily and eyed Tammy sitting up with her ears perked like a lap dog… “Sorry. I’m having a bad day.”
“I’ll walk you to your next class. I‘ll talk on the way.” I could see the notes now: He walked her to her next class to talk about a “friend.” I think they’re secretly dating. I mean, look at him. Besides, she’s not exactly a prude if you know what I mean, ha-ha. I threw a forced smile her way and followed Mr. Drake. Once we were out of earshot, he began.
“We need to talk about what, uh, happened, ahem, here yesterday.”
“How did I know that was coming?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry.” I managed to soften my voice. “What about yesterday?”
“Well, it was great,” he admitted with a boyish grin. “I have two questions, but the second one depends on the first. Who was that guy yesterday? You were nervous, and he was looking at you like love.”
“He’s nobody. Like I said, he was just visiting.”
“There’s nothing else going on? I shouldn’t want to take a step back?”
“No! Ahem, I mean…no. “

Laughing, he continued, “Question number two: when can we have a repeat?”
“Really?” I cringed and tried to gain control of my facial functions. I didn’t want to grin like a sappy idiot. I’m cool, calm and collected. I’m savvy, spontaneous and sure of myself. I don’t lose my breath over a guy, especially a guy I don‘t want for long. He was grinning, and I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. “What happened to playing it safe and following the rules? I thought that was your specialty.”
“I think we both know I have a few more specialties. Answer my question.”
“This is my class,” I stated and turned to go.
“Wait. Uh, did you know smoking cigarettes makes me feel light-headed, like I‘ll faint? That’s what I feel like when I think of you now, and it’s strange because before yesterday I would have been running in the other direction or telling you how that could never ever happen again and, instead, I’m here telling how I can’t get me touching you out of my head and that I’ll be at the inn on Johnson at eight.”
“You’re comparing me to little sticks of death? I feel so much better. That’s not the point,” I said, waving my hand and his attempt to explain. “Take a breath now. I would have met up with you anyway. Don’t go sounding romantic on me, though.”