Hey everyone, I'm so sorry about the delay. I did the worst thing you could ever possibly do as an author.....delete your entire file. And I didn't JUST delete the rewritten BMIL's file I deleted the what I'd done for APR and FLIACS and LALS and basically every other rewrite I started. I have the backed up files but they haven't been updated for awhile... I hope most are up to date. I checked BMIL first because I totally forgot I was posting it (lol sorry about that too) and it seems ok.... but as always let me know if anything looks weird. At worst the last edit didn't go through. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. 

________________________

About halfway through lunch, Melissa popped into my classroom, winging the door open and scaring the crap out of me. "Hey Ms. Allen! Just wanted to check up on you."

"Melissa, you gave me a heart attack," I told her, putting a hand over my frantic heart. "Things seem to be going okay though. Do you think Oliver will tell?"

She raised her eyebrow; setting down the milk carton she had been just about to drink from. "Oli? No, I don't think he will. He may be a jerk, but he's not that much of a jerk."

"Really?"

Melissa hesitated, making me sigh again. I turned back to my tray of food, mashing my mashed potatoes flat with my fork and then scooping some up into my mouth. They weren't half bad for school food.

"It's kind of hard to believe you're my age," Melissa whispered, leaning closer to me. "You definitely look it, but I believed you when you said you were twenty-two too. But I have a question..."

"What?"

"How can you be a teacher?" she asked. "You're way too young to know anything."

"I worked in a bakery for about a year," I told her, "so I know how to cook. About getting hired, well I definitely had some help."

Melissa nodded, accepting my vague answer. "Makes sense. What about school?"

"I'm home-schooled."

"Oh, you must be one busy person then."

"You don't even know," I told her with a sigh, swirling my fork around in the mashed potatoes again. "Will is very helpful though."

"Who's Will?"

"Um, my neighbor."

"Is he old or young?"

I raised an eyebrow. "He's in his twenties, why?"

"Just wondering," Melissa responded, shrugging her shoulders. "Is he cute?"

I laughed. "He's okay. But he's also very fatherly."

"What about your real father?"

My eyes dropped to the floor and I bit my lip. Did I want to tell Melissa? She seemed really nice and all, but my stomach twisted uncomfortably. It wasn't even that big of a deal. I should just be able to say it!

"My father... um...." I began to pick at the hem of my shirt, trying to decide how to say it. "He's..."

"Harley, are you going to eat your apple?"

I looked up at Melissa in confusion. "No, do you want it?"

"Yes."

"Okay... here," I said, handing the apple over to her.

"Thank you. So how are you liking the school?" she asked, putting the apple on her tray.

I stared at her. Wasn't she just asking about my father? Why the sudden change in topic? Melissa raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for an answer. Then I realized she purposely changed the subject.

"It's not that bad," I finally responded, shrugging my shoulders again. "Especially compared to what I expected it to be. You know. Fights, fires, that kind of stuff."

"Fights and fires?" Melissa asked with a laugh. "There are a lot of fights, but since I've been here, I haven't seen any fires."

"How long have you been here?"

"Just two years," she told me. "Freshman, and now sophomore."

"If you don't mind me asking... why are you here?"

Melissa smiled slightly. "Oliver."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oliver?"

"Yeah. I didn't do anything, but Oliver did. So when Oliver was transferred here, my mom made me transfer as well because she didn't want to drive to different schools every morning and afternoon."

For a minute I was confused, until I remembered Melissa and Oliver were siblings. Which brought me to my next question. "How are you and Oliver related?"

"Marriage," she told me.

My eyes flew open. "I thought you told me you were brother and sister!"

"We are?"

"But then how...?" I trailed off, realizing my mistake. A blush made its' appearance on my face now. "Oh, never mind."

Melissa laughed. "Our parents are married, Harley, not us. He's my step-brother."

"I realize this," I muttered, embarrassed. "So your mom and his dad?"

"Yep," she responded, nodding her head.

"I see," I said, returning my attention to my lunch. I scooped up another bite of mashed potatoes and ate it, staring at my lunch tray. "What did Oliver do to get in here?"

Melissa grinned at me. "Why do you want to know? Do you like him?"

"What? No!" I denied immediately. "No! I'm just curious, promise."

"Well, Ms. Just Curious," Melissa started, standing up with her tray in hand, "lunch is almost over, so I'll be returning to the cafeteria. I'll leave you to wonder what Oliver could have possibly done to be thrown in here. I had fun having lunch with you, let's do it again tomorrow!"

"Wait, Melissa!"

"Bye, Ms. Allen!"

She stepped out of the room, grinning once more at me before shutting the door. I frowned, looking back down at my tray. Wasn't anyone going to tell me what Oliver had done? Why did I even care? Oliver was a jerk. He probably pushed an old lady into a pothole or something.

I sighed, pushing my tray away. The least Melissa could have done was bring it to the cafeteria for me.

When sixth period rolled around, I opened my planner to check what the senior's would be making today. Pizza. A small smile made its' way onto my face. Arden would be happy. He had mentioned how much he loved pizza before. But that meant there was a lot of prepping to do— like shredding the cheese and cutting the pepperoni.

I looked around the room and realized I still had to clean up fifth period's mess. We had run out of time before they could finish cleaning, so I had told them I'd do it for them. Now I regretted it. There definitely wasn't enough time to get everything finished for next period with only one person doing it! Oliver never bothered to show up, so I couldn't count on him. Instead of worrying about it though, I started cleaning up. When I was finished, I went back to my desk, flopping onto the chair. The clock told me I had fifteen minutes to get everything for seventh period prepared.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Allen."

I jumped violently, my head snapping up so fast I cricked my neck. After a moment of wincing and rubbing my neck, I turned my attention to Oliver, who was standing by the door. My jaw dropped the slightest bit. Oliver? He was actually here? And he was greeting me? He usually just sat down at the furthest possible desk and ignored me the whole time if he even showed! I was speechless.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"No," I snapped, finding my voice, and glaring at him. "I'm just confused as to why you're actually talking to me."

"I can't talk to my favorite teacher?" Oliver questioned, his trademark smirk appearing.

"Favorite teacher?" I echoed.

Oliver nodded, standing next to the edge of my desk. He put his arm down on the planner I was looking at and leaned closer to me. "Well, my favorite seventeen year old teacher, right?"

Immediately I looked around the room, just to make sure it was empty. I turned to Oliver, clenching my teeth. "Oliver, not so loud."

"We're alone," Oliver assured me.

"Have you told anyone?"

"Have I?" Oliver responded mockingly. "I don't remember..."

My heart skipped a beat and I stared at Oliver anxiously. "Oliver, seriously."

"Does this face look serious?"

Oliver moved his face closer to mine and I watched him, our eyes meeting. His eyes smoldered into mine, amusement dancing behind the cobalt blue irises. After a minute I pulled my face away, turning my head to the left, letting out a huff of annoyance.

He chuckled, and I turned my head back to him. He had moved away now, and was just leaning against the edge of my desk, watching me. "Simmer down, Ms. Allen. I haven't told anyone."

"How can I believe you?"

"You'll just have to believe me."

"Oliver!"

The English man smirked again, rolling his eyes. "Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. You say my name so much. Is there a reason for that?"

"No," I snapped.

"Oh really?"

"I liked it better when you didn't talk to me at all," I told him, growing more and more irritated by the second. "You're a jerk."

Oliver laughed. "Hey, respect your elders."

Instead of replying, I decided to do the next best thing: Ignore him, like he'd always done to me. I returned my attention back to my planning book, snapping the ingredients list out. Oliver watched with an amused expression as I stood from my desk and moved over to the back room. He followed me, shutting the supply door behind us when we were both in.

"Don't shut the door, Oliver."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't need to be shut," I told him, frowning. "It's better if it's open..."

Oliver smirked. "Why? You don't want someone coming in and thinking we're doing something in here?"

"That wasn't what I was thinking!" I said quickly. "Just... ugh, never mind." I went to the refrigerator to pull out the pepperoni and cheese. Oliver followed behind me, uncomfortably close.

"So I've been thinking," Oliver started, standing not even a foot behind me as I opened the fridge.

"Is that supposed to be important?"

"Well, yes, since it has to do with me keeping your secret."

I slammed the refrigerator door with more force than needed, turning to him. Our proximity startled me, and I took a step back in surprise, hitting the front of the fridge. "What is it?"

"Starting next week, you're going to be helping me at my part time job," He informed me.

I stared at him like he was crazy. He had to be crazy! He wanted me to help him with his part time job? "What? But I have to work, and then go home to watch my brother, and make dinner, and I also have home-school work to do—"

Oliver scoffed. "I'm sure your parents can handle cooking two nights out of the week."

My next retort was lost in my throat. I felt my stomach clench uncomfortably and the blood drain from my face. I looked away from Oliver, focusing on the floor, trying to calm myself. No, they couldn't handle it since they were dead. But he didn't know that, and I wasn't about to tell him. He already knew enough about me. It would be better just to let it pass. "You're right," I forced out, plastering a fake smile on my face. "I'm sorry.".

He stared at me quizzically for a moment, before turning away. "You just need to work with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays," he told me quietly. "From seven until ten. You do this, and I'll keep your secret."

I thought about it for a minute. If I went home immediately on Tuesday and Thursdays, then I would have four hours until I left for work... That would give me enough time to do home-school work, make dinner, and do whatever else I needed to. It seemed like it'd be okay. "Fine, deal."

"Perfect. Then your secret is safe with me," he promised.

For some reason, I still didn't feel like I could trust Oliver, but it would have to do for now. I moved away from him, putting the cheese and pepperoni on the table, and then went to grab the cheese grater. To my annoyance, it was on the top shelf where I couldn't reach it. I stood on my tiptoes, leaning against the counter for support, and stretched out my arm as high as I could. I was still a few inches too short.

"I'll get it." Suddenly I felt Oliver press against my back, reaching above me to get the cheese grater.

"You're too close," I told him, focusing on anything but the warmth radiating from his body and into my back.

"Don't lie; you like it."

Just as I was about to make an angry retort, the door to the closet opened. "What is going on here?" a sharp voice demanded.

I felt Oliver pull away from me and I turned to the door to see Arden. My eyes widened slightly, and I stepped even further away from Oliver, who scowling at Arden.

"I couldn't reach the cheese grater," I told Arden, quickly taking the grater from Oliver. "Oliver had to help me..."

"Why was the door shut?"

"Why does it matter?"

Arden narrowed his eyes at Oliver. "I didn't ask you."

"Well, you didn't exactly make it obvious you weren't," Oliver responded with a shrug.

"What were you two doing?" Arden asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing!" I assured him. For some reason, I felt guilty for having him catch Oliver and myself in an awkward position. "Nothing," I repeated. "I just had to get the ingredients for your class, and Oliver helped me reach the cheese grater. I didn't even realize the door was shut."

"Is that so?"

I nodded. "Promise."

"Actually Arden, you ruined a perfect forbidden love session," Oliver commented, shoving by me. "Thanks for that."

Arden glared at Oliver as I stumbled from the force of Oliver's push. When Oliver exited the room, Arden returned his attention to me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..."

"He didn't do anything to you?"

"No?"

"Good," Arden responded, frowning again. "I don't trust him around you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just because."

Now I was even more curious, but I let it drop. Obviously Arden wasn't going to talk about it. I decided to change the subject. "How come you're in here so early?"

"Early?" Arden repeated. "There's about five minutes until class starts..."

"Huh?" I repeated, my eyes widening. "Oh no! I haven't even started slicing the pepperoni or grating the cheese! Or getting out the dough or pizza sauce or—"

Arden laughed. "Harley, I'll help. I take it we're making pizza?"

I nodded. "Yeah, your favorite, right?"

Arden grinned. "You remembered."

I turned my head away quickly as another blush made its way onto my face. "Yeah, I guess..."

"We'll, let's start by getting the ingredients out. I don't think anyone in class will exactly care if they have to cut their own pepperoni or grate their cheese," Arden informed me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Right?"

"Right," I responded, smiling.