Alistair gives me a small smile before taking the phone from me, brushing his fingertips against mine in the process. A zing goes up my arm.
Nonsense, Chiara. You’re imagining things. There’s no such thing as magical, electric touches.
“What do you want on the picture? The sign?”
“Yes, please.”
I stand in front of the shop and strike a lame pose. I can’t relax when Alistair is the one taking the photo. I feel self-conscious and exposed.
“Come on, Goldilocks. You’re not even trying.”
My heart skips a beat, and I drop the fake smile. I can’t believe he called me that out in public where anyone could hear him.
A second later, Alistair realizes his mistake. His easy grin vanishes as he lowers the phone.
Troubled, he says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”
“No, it’s okay. Slipups happen.”
He returns my phone. “Are you getting donuts to go? They have a special deal today. You’ll get double your order if you buy a dozen. I suspect once this hits social media, the place will be packed.”
“That’s tempting, but I don’t think I can eat twenty-four donuts by myself. I’ll probably go into a sugar-induced coma, and who’s going to rescue me?”
“I would,” he says, and my heart decides to do the conga.
What the hell is going on here? Alistair just offered to be my knight in shining armor. I must be hallucinating. Sure, we’re not on school property, but he’s still my teacher. He’ll lose his job if people suspect we were involved before.
I don’t know what he reads on my face, but he suddenly clears his throat and says, “I’d better go or I’ll be late. See you in class on Monday.”
He walks away, leaving me bereft and cold inside. The silly girl in me is upset he didn’t stay longer.
I’m still watching his retreating back when someone touches my shoulder, scaring the crap out of me.
“Madonna Santa! Robbie, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry. Hey, was that Mr. Walsh?”
“Hmm, yes.”
“That man is sin incarnate.”
“You really need to stop lusting after a teacher.”
I’m such a hypocrite. If he only knew the wicked things Alistair did to me this summer.
Shit. My face must be redder than a tomato.
He sighs loudly. “I know. I hate the rules that students can’t get involved with teachers. It’s so unfair. Do you know how many hotties we’ve had at DuBose since I started? Too fucking many. All forbidden, which makes them even more appealing.”
“If you’re into older guys.” I shrug, hoping I’m selling the lie that I don’t find Alistair all that hot.
“Are you referring to Mr. Walsh? He’s not that old. He’s only twenty-six. No, wait. I think his birthday is coming up, so he’ll be twenty-seven soon. But he’s still hot.”
“How do you know when his birthday is?”
“I googled it, of course.” I stare at Robbie with a question in my gaze, and he adds, “Oh my God. You have no idea who he is, do you?”
A sliver of apprehension and excitement runs down my spine. “No. Should I?”
“Mr. Walsh is a former child star. He was on this super popular show called The Lockharts for a decade!”
“No way! We never got that show on Italian TV.”
“Way! Let’s grab some coffee and deep fried sugar treats and I’ll show you. You’re going to lose your shit.”
We go inside and place our orders while I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet. Alistair used to be an actor? That’s crazy.
With our coffees and donuts in hand, Robbie pulls his laptop out and brings up Alistair’s profile. I almost choke on my donut when the picture of little Alistair fills the screen. So darn cute.
“Dio Santo. How old was he there?”
“I think he was eight at the time, but his character was six years old on the show. So yeah, he totally grew up in front of millions.”
“Did he work in anything else after the show ended?”
“Nope. During the last season, Alistair turned wild.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know. The usual. He was partying too hard, probably doing drugs. The standard behavior for children who grow up in the limelight. But I think what triggered Alistair’s reckless side was the death of his best friend.”
Robbie types in another name on the Google search bar, Jamie Lewis, and the image of a cute dark-haired kid pops up. In the description, it says he died when he was only seventeen.
“What happened to him?” I ask.
“Suicide.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah. Alistair was really tight with him. Anyway, after the show ended, he just disappeared.”
My chest feels heavy now. Alistair is still a very good actor. He never gave any indication he’d carried that heavy burden with him. Unlike me, who had the woe-is-me sign flashing above my head the whole time we were together.
Robbie keeps scrolling through the pictures of Alistair until we get to a much more recent one. He has a beautiful brunette in his arms. My heart clenches so painfully, I almost can’t breathe.
“Who is that?” I choke out.
“Oh, that’s Alistair soon-to-be ex-wife.”
