Everything: A Singed Wings Novel (11 page)

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Authors: Erin Noelle

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Everything: A Singed Wings Novel
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I heard a chorus of gasps from the small audience we had thanks to her first outburst. My goal wasn’t to publicly humiliate her, but she’d brought it on herself, so she’d have to live with the fallout. Grabbing my half-eaten lunch off the table, I spun around and marched out of the cafeteria, ignoring her as she yelled, “You’re a fucking asshole, Everett Templeton! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Of course she would. Because that’s what crazy bitches did. And why I swore I’d never get involved with one.

 

 

THE REST OF
the afternoon passed without incident, though when Billy walked up to my locker before sixth period, he’d obviously heard about the Jayla-showdown based on the shit-eating grin spread wide across his face.

“Dude, I didn’t expect you to do it right then! Maybe I should’ve gone over how to let someone down easy too,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

I tossed my text and spiral into my locker and grabbed another. “She was the one who wanted to make a scene,” I grumbled, as I zipped up my backpack and shut my locker, “so she got a scene. I’m not playing her fucking games anymore.”

“Yeah, I think she got the message loud and…
clear
.” He smirked as we turned to head down the hall.

With each step I took toward Belle’s classroom, my heart began to beat just a little bit faster, a little bit harder. A dueling bass line made up of equal parts eagerness and dread.

I’d been waiting all day to see Belle’s face again, curious to how she’d act after our “talk” this morning. Several times, I’d been tempted to pass by her room, especially during fourth period when I knew she had conference hour, but I didn’t want to smother or pressure her. She’d been enraged because she thought I had a girlfriend, and rightfully so, but I hoped that letting her stew on the fact I wasn’t the cheater she thought I was and that little kiss I’d snuck in would soften her up for the next time we talked. Which would hopefully be after school.

But before that could happen, I’d have to see Jayla again. In front of Belle. Oh, what joy.

“Well, I guess I’m about to find out,” I muttered, stopping a short distance from my Art History class. “About to see her for the first time since it happened. Wish me luck.”

Billy hooted out a laugh and slapped me on the back. “Yeah, good luck with that shit, man. Stay away from her. Far, far away. She’s fucking psycho.”

“Yeah, thanks for the warning. You’re only about a year late, asshole.”

I stood there until I could no longer hear his laugh echoing off the walls as he disappeared around the corner, then took a deep breath and went inside to face my impending doom.

Surprisingly, when I walked in, someone else was sitting in the seat Jayla had claimed as her own yesterday, and immediately I stopped walking and cut my questioning eyes over to where Belle sat behind the old-school, oversized teacher’s desk. Her expression remained impassive as she shrugged.
My God, she’s beautiful.

“Some of your classmates decided this wasn’t the class for them after finding out that Ms. Wallace wouldn’t be teaching the course,” she announced to the entire class as she stood, smoothing down the front of her skirt, “so they’ve gotten their schedules changed and opened up some spots for others who wanted to be in here. You may need to adjust where you sat yesterday. Next week, once all the transfers are finalized, I’ll ask you to choose a permanent seat for the remainder of the semester.”

Relief flooded through me as I literally felt the weight of dealing with Jayla, in this class of all classes, dissipate with Belle’s words. I didn’t give a shit why she transferred out, as long as I didn’t have her in here watching me like a hawk while I watched the tiny teacher who had me all tied up in knots.

Choosing an empty desk in the front row that provided an unobstructed view of Belle’s ass when she faced the projection screen and dry erase board, I sat down and got out my spiral and a pen. Art History had never been an interest of mine, but I was about to pay more attention in a class than I ever had before. I was ready to earn my A, and with any luck, I’d later be rewarded with an O.

For the next fifty minutes, I penned page after page of notes as Belle lectured on art during pre-historic times. Genuine excitement trilled in her voice when she described the different pieces throughout the PowerPoint, each one having its own story, linking it to the culture of the people. I found myself smiling when her voice would enthusiastically speed up; there was no doubt she held a deep appreciation and admiration for the material she taught. I wondered how old she was and if this was her first teaching job. I wanted to ask her where she grew up and went to college, and I was curious if she’d ever seen any of the works of art she loved in person.
I’m growing a fucking vagina. Maybe Billy was right about me being on my period.

A few times I caught her sneaking a peek at me, but she never allowed her eyes to linger longer than a second or two. I tried to keep my thoughts as PG-rated as possible, but she was just too fucking sexy. And in the last ten minutes of class, my willpower failed me.

The clingy skirt she wore hugged her ass just right, reminding me of how those soft curves had fit perfectly in my hands. Her perky tits sat up high under her sweater, and each time my gaze accidentally fell to them, my mouth watered as I remembered how sweet her milky skin tasted and how her nipples had hardened at the first flick of my tongue. I groaned and adjusted my swelling cock in the chair, not knowing how in the hell I was going to stand up without everyone seeing the massive boner struggling to break free from my jeans.
Nope, definitely not a vagina in there.

As the lecture ended, she flipped the projector off and the lights on then turned to face the class, asking if anyone had any questions. Immediately, like there was a flashing light attached to my crotch, her big brown doe eyes honed in on the bulge beneath my zipper and her lips parted on a sharp inhale. Pink stained her cheeks as she hastily diverted her focus to someone else in the room, and that made me even harder. It was like I was thirteen and checking out online porn for the first time all over again, and I wasn’t sure how in the hell I was going to survive a full semester of this kind of torture. Unless I knew I could get my hands on her the minute we escaped and got somewhere private.

The final bell rang and everyone in the class rushed to their feet and poured out into the hallway, eager to get the hell out of there. Everyone but me. I stayed right where I was in my chair, basically forcing her to talk to me.

For a couple of minutes, she pretended to ignore me, cleaning up things around the room, packing up the laptop in a carrying case. She padded over to her desk, and for several steps it looked like she was favoring one of her ankles, but then I couldn’t tell as she retreated to the safety of hiding behind her giant desk. Something I noticed she’d done both times we were in the room alone. As if a piece of furniture was going to shield her or stop the electric current that flowed between us.

After her reaction to me earlier this morning, I was confident that Friday night wasn’t just a fluke. I was also certain she realized that too. Now, what to do about it?

“Mr. Templeton, is there something I can help you with?” she asked, finally acknowledging my presence. The instant the words came out of her mouth, she scrunched her face up with the realization of how her question could come off as sexual. And I definitely took it that way, no matter her intention.

I unfolded my legs and pushed up on my feet then prowled toward her with a roguish, half-cocked grin. “Why yes,
Belle,
as a matter of fact, there is,” I drawled, stopping a foot or so short of her desk as I met her tenacious stare head on, my erection on full display. “I want to see you again this weekend. I play at Empty’s pretty much every Friday and Saturday night, but I usually finish up around eleven, so you can come hang out while I’m on stage, and then we can go somewhere afterward if you want, or we can just lay in the back of my truck again and get to know each other better. That was cool too.”

Shaking her head, she scoffed at my suggestion. “I’m not sure what world you live in, Everett, but I live in the one where it’s illegal for teachers to fraternize with students. I don’t know how or why you were in a bar last weekend, but I obviously thought you were at least twenty-one when we met, and… well, I didn’t think you were an eighteen-year-old high school senior!” Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest
— another thing I noticed she did around me a lot, but this one I didn’t mind since it pushed her cleavage up for better viewing.

I decided now wasn’t a good time to tell her I wouldn’t be eighteen for another month and a half, and focused on the facts instead. “This morning, you were pissed at me because you thought I was a liar and a cheater, but I told you then that I wasn’t that kind of guy, ‘cause I’m not. Jayla has had a stupid crush on me for years, but never have I been in a relationship with her. I may be an asshole at times, but I’m an honest asshole.” My voice remained assertive yet gentle.

“Now, you’re angry because I didn’t tell you how old I was,” I continued on when she didn’t interject. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a life resume in my back pocket for you to review beforehand, but you didn’t seem to mind too much, if you remember correctly. Plus, for all I knew, you could’ve been there using a fake ID. People use them all the time, ya know? And it’s not like you look very old either.” Pausing to take a breath, I inched closer to her desk and her gaze once again dropped to the front of my jeans.
That’s right, my sexy little pixie. Remember what it felt like when you were grinding yourself all over my shaft?

“What we did together was a decision made by two consenting adults, and I for one couldn’t get enough of you. Still fucking can’t,” I grunted, as I glanced down at the outline of my cock underneath the denim. “I know you felt it too, Belle.”

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Even if I did, it’s not that easy, Everett. I’m your teacher. You’re my student. There are laws that say we can’t be involved. Not to mention, I’m seven years older than you.”

“Fuck our ages!” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep the volume of my voice down. “They’re just a stupid-ass number anyway. Did I feel too young for you when my fingers were sliding in and out of your tight little pussy?” Heated desire flickered in her eyes at my choice of words, but I kept on as my frustration mounted at her stubbornness. “And fuck the law too. When we met and first hooked up, you weren’t my teacher, so that shit shouldn’t matter now.”

“But it does,” she hissed. “I can sit here and agree with you all afternoon long, but because you are now my student, nothing else can happen between us.” Her tone softened as she leaned forward slightly, and said, “Look, I won’t lie to you. Yes, I feel some sort of connection when I’m around you. I won’t deny the attraction or the spark that obviously exists between us, but I don’t know you other than that and what I’ve learned in the past two days. Sure, you seem like a nice-enough guy who definitely acts older and more mature than most other kids your age, and of course I feel better learning that you didn’t have a girlfriend, but none of that changes the fact that I
need
this job, Everett. I can’t go back home, and I sure as hell don’t want to go to prison for someone I barely know anything about. I moved here to get a fresh start, not become a convicted felon!”

‘Then I’ll transfer out of your class too. Then you won’t be my teacher anymore,” I blurted out as soon as the brilliant idea hit me.

She shook her head again, bursting my bubble. “No, it’s any student, not just the ones in my class. And don’t you dare say you’re gonna transfer out of the school,” she warned warily, as if she was really concerned I would. I’ll admit, I contemplated it for about a second until I envisioned that talk with my parents.

“Just let it go, rockstar,” she whispered, wearing a sad smile. “Life’s all about timing, and it’s not our time.”

Once I realized her mind was made up and talking to her wasn’t going to change anything, I grabbed my backpack and left, heading home to plan out the next stage of my attack. I may not have been able to convince her mind that I was worth it…

But her body was a different story.

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