Chapter #3Ryan feels strange by: Caprino   The ride back to school on the bus with 20 screaming boys is an experience in itself.
Ryan would have blamed his headache on the noisy bus, but the dull, throbbing pain behind his eyes continued after he got off the bus and took a short break in the teacher's lounge before he left for home with a pack full of lesson plans and textbooks.
He had just poured himself a cup of coffee when Silas entered the lounge.
The tall man wore gray overalls and a form-fitting white tee shirt obscured by the gray straps of the overalls. He saw Ryan in the overstuffed armchair with his coffee.
"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here," Silas said and swept back his dark hair out of his eyes with the push of a hand.
Ryan winced from a sip of a coffee that tasted like the grounds had been fished from the garbage.
"Is it that bad?" Silas laughed and joked.
Ryan sipped again. "Yes," he concluded.
Silas busied himself with removing some small boxes from a bucket in his left hand. He stooped and wedged one of the boxes beneath a wheeled platform that held the room's decade-old microwave.
"What's that?" Ryan asked, covertly enjoying a view of Silas's ass beneath the overalls.
Silas straightened and put a finger over his mouth. "Shhhh, just between us," he said. "No need to cause a panic. It's just some roach traps."
"Roach traps?" Ryan echoed, feeling creeped out by even thinking of the scurrying, repulsive insects.
"I believe prevention's worth a pound of cure," Silas said.
Ryan nodded. In addition to the headache, he now experienced some vertigo and felt unsteady on his feet.
"Although, there's always the old-fashioned way of dealing with them." He lifted one of his work boots and pantomimed bringing it down with a resounding stomp on the lounge tiles.
The demonstration caused some queasy feelings in Ryan's stomach.
Silas reached over and gripped Ryan's shoulder. "You're looking a little green, Mr. Dalton."
"Please, it's Ryan," he said yet again, always embarrassed when the big hunk called him Mr. Dalton.
"Sure thing, man," Silas said and slipped one of the roach traps into Ryan's hand. "You mind shoving that under the fridge for me? I'll just take care of the boys locker room and leave you to relax."
"No, I don't mind," Ryan said.
Silas grinned and departed. Ryan got on his knees to wedge the small box beneath the teacher's lounge fridge when the room began to spin. He moaned and slumped onto the smooth, cool tiles.
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