I bit my tongue, holding back the words my mama used to tell me all the time when I was a kid and threatened to run away. “
Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya, sweetheart.”
Principal Gentile had originally told me that Art History was a highly sought-after elective among the seniors, which had excited me that so many of the kids were eager to learn about the historical development and stylistic perspectives of the art that told the story of humanity. However, it didn’t take me long to figure out that Ms. Wallace was the “highly sought after” part, not the material studied. These kids were all looking for an easy A, a blow-off class to propel them toward graduation.
Unfortunately for them, I was
not
Ms. Wallace.
Turning my back to her, I pivoted on my heel, wincing at the sharp pain shooting through my ankle, and strode back toward my desk. I acted as if I was going to pick up the syllabi
— which I did do — but mainly I just needed a few moments to breathe deeply and calm my irritated nerves. I wasn’t sure why; maybe I was just tired ‘cause it was the end of the day, but something about that girl put me on alert right away. She exuded an aura of arrogance and superiority, and based on her appearance alone, it wasn’t surprising. I was sure she had her choice of any guy she wanted to date and her girlfriends were handpicked to her liking.
I bet she wears pink on Wednesdays too.
The tardy bell rang and the door to the room opened and closed one last time as I grabbed the stack of papers off the edge off my desk. After inhaling a deep breath in through my nose and exhaling it out through my mouth, I painted the cheerful smile back on and whirled around to address the class. But my gaze never made it past the figure standing just inside the door.
Time stopped. The earth stopped spinning on its axis. The ground fell out from under me. And it happened all at once. The moment my eyes landed on Everett. My rockstar.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, praying it wouldn’t be him when I opened them. Maybe all of those sessions with the vibrator, pretending it was him, had started screwing with my mind. Maybe I just really needed to get laid to fix my problem. Not being able to bring myself to climax was making me delusional.
When I opened them again, he was still standing there, still pinning me with his intense stare.
Oh, God, this is not happening. Please tell me this isn’t happening to me.
Unable to accept the obvious, my brain then threw out the idea that maybe he was here for another reason. Maybe he worked here too. Or maybe he was so smitten with me from Friday, he’d tracked me down for days and had finally found me, coming to tell me he wanted to finish what we’d started.
“Everett, over here, babe! You can sit next to me.”
I knew without looking who called out to him, but I looked anyway and watched her meanface the poor guy who sat to her right, silently ordering him to move desks so her
babe
could sit next to her. He hastily gathered his things and moved to another free seat to allow Everett to take the spot.
Rage boiled in my blood, heating me from the inside out. My fingers curled into tight fists, the tips of my nails biting into the heel of my hands. I was going to kill him.
Shifting my attention back to the door, I took note of his cleanly-shaven face and the backpack casually slung over his shoulder, and my stomach sank with dread as I watched him cross the floor to her. Instantly, I hated myself for what I’d done Friday night. For thinking the connection we’d shared might have been something unique.
I was an idiot. The guy I’d met wasn’t anything close to who I thought he was. He was Everett. My student. My student with a girlfriend, no less. A drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend who I already disliked, but now hated for absolutely no reasons other than those.
Now I’m acting like a high school student.
Humiliation burned in my cheeks as the memories from the bed of his truck popped into my head. I’d swallowed his cock in my mouth, sucking him hard and deep. Shamelessly, I’d ridden his fingers while he kissed and licked and toyed with my nipples. I’d been minutes away from demanding he fuck me, yearning to be stuffed full of his thick, long shaft. I was going to burn in Hell for this.
Or maybe prison… I need to look up age of consent laws in Texas ASAP.
“Who are you, and when is Ms. Wallace coming back?” one of the other students called out from the back of the class, jolting me from my disturbing, borderline murderous thoughts.
I didn’t bother with faking a smile; I didn’t have it in me.
“Ms. Wallace has taken an indefinite leave of absence to take care of her mom. She won’t be back this school year for sure, and since you’re all seniors, it looks like you guys are stuck with me.” I ambled on shaky legs to the far right side of the room, as far away from Everett and his girlfriend as I could get, and handed the stack of papers I was holding to the girl sitting in the first desk to pass out. “The syllabus for the class is coming around now. You’ll see that I do things a little different than Ms. Wallace did. Instead of four multiple choice tests each making up twenty-five percent of your grade, you will only have two major exams — a midterm and a final,” I paused as some of the students cheered, thinking I’d cut their work in half, but then burst their bubble when I added, “but there will also be five random pop quizzes throughout the semester and a major writing assignment due the first week of May.”
The cheers quickly morphed into boos much like they had in the previous classes, but this time, I didn’t care that they might not like me. Not even a little bit. I could only hope that some of them — two in particular — would indeed ask for a class change to get out of here. Then, and only then, I might have a chance of keeping my shit together for a semester.
For the next half hour, I went over the course description and objectives, classroom rules and policies, and the calendar of studies, not once looking in the direction of Everett and the girl who I learned while taking roll was named Jayla. The heat from his gaze prickled my skin on more than one occasion as I stood and talked in front of the class, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected me. Not again.
When I finished my spiel and answered all of their questions, I allowed them to visit quietly amongst themselves until the class ended. Swiftly moving behind the safety of the oversized teacher’s desk, I dropped into the black leather chair and blew out a ragged breath, keeping my focus fixed on the lesson plan book in front of me. My brain was fried, scrambled with thousands of chaotic thoughts, some that made no sense whatsoever. I didn’t know what to do, what to say.
Should I just pretend like it never happened? Not address it all? Should I call him out for not telling me he’s a high school student? Or that he’s in a fucking relationship with the future Miss Universe? I mean, obviously he had no way of knowing I’d be his permanent substitute teacher come today, but still, he had to know I assumed he was older. And fucking single.
In the midst of my internal freak out, the final bell rang and the entire class jumped up and made a beeline for the door, finally dismissed for the day. I glanced up just in time to see the last student walk out, and a whole new barrage of emotions pelted me when I discovered he didn’t stay behind to say anything to me. Not an apology or a let’s-forget-about-what-happened speech or him pleading with me not to tell his girlfriend. Nothing.
I was still staring at the doorway when Liam’s handsome, smiling face appeared in it. “So how was the first day, Ms. Sloan? Think you might come back tomorrow?”
Offering a small grin, I nodded. “It was good. I’m not sure any of the students are too thrilled that Ms. Wallace isn’t here to hand out an easy A, but no one cussed me out or threw anything at me, so I’ll consider it a success.” I thought it best not to mention the whole
“Oh, and this hot guy I hooked up with this weekend, he’s one of my students now. What a small world, right?”
He sauntered into the room a few steps then stopped, sticking his hands in his pockets. I couldn’t help but notice the striking differences in his and Everett’s appearances — one was dark, broody, and mysterious, while the other was bright, approachable, and forthcoming — and before he ever opened his mouth, I knew he was going to ask me out.
“I was curious if you wanted to go grab a drink with me to celebrate surviving day one? There’s a local place a lot of us teachers like to hit up for their happy hour specials, especially on Fridays. Plus, I still owe you for nearly knocking you down yesterday,” he offered, making it seem completely casual. Instinct told me his intentions were anything but.
Tempting as his offer was — I would’ve loved to drown my newly-arisen problems in a vodka tonic or four — I just couldn’t. Not in the mental state I was in. With my luck, I’d get shit-faced drunk and tell him everything. And I couldn’t take that chance.
“I can’t this afternoon,” I replied with an apologetic smile. “I’ve got a couple of appointments to look at some apartments, but maybe some other time?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” His lips curled up at the corners as he ran his hand through his blond hair. “And if you need any help on apartment hunting, I know this area pretty well, so don’t hesitate to ask. I’d love to help you with whatever you need.”
I pushed up to standing, grabbing my coat, purse, and messenger bag in the process, then headed over to where he was, tipping my head toward the door. Even though my first appointment wasn’t until four-thirty, over an hour away, I needed to get out of that building to help clear the muddled mess that was my mind.
“Thank you so much for the offer. I truly appreciate how nice you’ve been,” I regarded him honestly as we fell into stride with each other moving out in the hallway. “I’ll let you know how the search goes, and will definitely take you up on that offer for the drink. Maybe this Friday.”
“Perfect.”
Liam accompanied me all the way down the stairs and through the school then held open the side door that led to the shared student-teacher parking lot. The wintry wind had settled down somewhat from the day before, but the temperatures still hovered near freezing and the sun hadn’t shone her face in over two days. The cold, bleak gray sky mirrored my mood, despite the good-looking, clearly interested guy walking next to me.
When we reached my car — a late-model red Volkswagen bug — I thanked him once again and we exchanged a somewhat awkward goodbye that involved him waiting for me to get inside my car. I slid onto the driver’s seat and quickly started the engine, turning the radio to my favorite Adele album. Then, belting out the lyrics to “Rumour Has It,” I pulled out of the lot and onto the busy street.
If I hadn’t been so distracted with my thoughts about the clusterfuck that had officially become my life, I probably would’ve noticed the pristine baby blue Ford truck parked just a few rows over. And the seething, hulkish figure sitting behind the wheel.
WHAT IN THE
actual fuck?
I banged my hands over and over on the dashboard until my palms screamed in pain, unable to process the tsunami of frustration and utter pissed-the-fuck-off-ness surging through me. In the matter of ninety minutes, life had sucker punched me not once by having the one chick I’d ever really been interested in end up being my teacher, not twice by putting Jayla of all people in that same class with me, but three times by showing me that Mr. Carroll had already put his plan in action to try and charm the panties off the new teacher he’d told me about.
My
Belle.
It was as if the universe had ganged up on me, dangling her right in front of my face, knowing I couldn’t resist, then giving me a tiny taste of the sweetest damn fruit that existed, only to tell me I couldn’t have it. Forbidden. I could only look while someone else touched.
I guess life really is a cold, heartless bitch.
Clenching my teeth together, I watched as my homeroom teacher leaned in a little too close to say what I assumed was goodbye, then I snatched the phone off the bench seat next to me and punched out a group text to Billy and our other close friend Scott Stein. I needed to do something to get my mind off everything, and that’s what friends were for. Right?
Me:
Empty’s this afternoon. Meet in 20.
The three of us had been hanging out at the pub to play darts and pool since we’d turned sixteen and could drive. Unlike most bars, Empty’s was open to people of all ages during the day for both lunch and dinner; it wasn’t until after ten pm that it became a twenty-one-and-up establishment. Though the reason Ashlynn and I were able to stay there late and play on stage was because our parents were with us. Texas law only prohibited the sale of alcohol to minors. Each establishment set its own rules about who they allowed in, and lucky for us, our family owned the place.