Teach Me (12 page)

             
Ali lets out a small groan that almost stops my heart. We are kissing, and our hands are everywhere. I open my eyes and find hers open as well, but nothing stops. It almost ignites more in us. She is breathing hard, and I’m not sure how she managed it, but she has my shirt off. This reminds me of our last night on the beach. Ali leans back and runs her hands over my chest; my knees buckle. She tumbles on top of me, and we land on her kitchen floor, which makes us both burst into laughter.

             
We are lying side by side, laughing and catching our breath. I don’t know what to do. I want to be with this girl in every sense, but I am still her teacher. The conflict that battles inside of me is torture. It doesn’t help when Ali sits up and her tank top has been flung beside us. I can’t look away even if I wanted to. She is wearing a black lace bra, which contrasts with the pale skin it’s covering, and it fills my vision. Ali gathers her hair in a loose ponytail and leans over me and traces my lips with the tip of her tongue. I am paralyzed.

             
She slides back on top of me, pressing her warm soft body against my chest as she begins to kiss me slowly, hesitantly. My fingers knot themselves in her hair, holding her face to mine with one hand, the other resting on her hip again. Ali shifts her weight back and forth, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. I realize what she is doing, and it is too late. She has slipped her sweatpants off, and I can’t breathe at the sight of her matching panties. Her mouth assaults mine, and I can hear my throaty groan.

             
“Ali,” I whisper, trying to find the will to stop. Of course, stopping is the last thing that I want to do. I want to take her in my arms and hold her forever. I want our first time to be romantic and special, not on the kitchen floor.

             
She can feel my hesitation and leans back. “I thought that this is what you wanted.” Her face flushes. Of course I want this, how could I not? I can see her starting to fall apart waiting for me to tell her no again. I sit up and pull her close and hold her tight.

             
“It is,” I say into her hair. “It is, Ali—gosh. There isn’t anything I want more than you.” I can feel her beginning to relax. My fingers are exploring the newly exposed skin which is causing goose bumps to rise on her. I help her to her feet and led her into the living room where I wrap a blanket around her shoulders.

             
Immediately we are both back on the beach, a bonfire burning bright behind us, a thousand stars sparkling overhead. As I did before, using the blanket, I pull Allison closer to me and tilt her face toward mine. I become completely saturated with love for the girl I feel like I could drown. Her eyes are wide and blazing with desire. My will is shot, and I give in to her and to myself. I have been away from her intimacy for months, and I can’t take it for another second.

             
I think she is surprised when I pull her face to mine, and just like on the beach, the blanket falls silently to the floor. Ali’s slender arms wrap around my neck, and I easily lift her off the floor. The couch isn’t far, so I make the short walk, not breaking our kiss, and gently lay her down. I position myself over her delicate body, not letting her feel any of my weight, but Ali pulls me down, so we are pressed together. Her fingers lace themselves in my hair, and she groans softly as I kiss her neck.

             
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear, and she trembles under me. When we make eye contact again, we both know that nothing will stop us from this moment and that nothing will interrupt us.

             
That is when the phone rings and interrupts us. I fall off the couch and crash to the floor. Allison jumps up, pulling the blanket off the floor to cover her exposed skin. The answering machine picks up the missed call.

             
“Hey, Ali,” Jeremy’s voice fills the room. “Just making sure we are on for tonight. Call me back . . . love
ya
.” Ali walks over to the machine and
presses a few buttons until the message is deleted. When she turns back to face me, she looks upset. I want to go to her, but it dawns on me that she might want to go on a date even if it’s not with me—even if it’s with a guy she claims she doesn’t like.

             
I would be lying if I said my ego wasn’t bruised. “He loves
ya
, huh?” Here we are, rolling around half naked and a . . . a suitor is literally calling on her.

             
Ali blushes and shrugs. “He says he does.”

             
I swallow. “And what do you say back?” Ali turns around and pulls the blanket tighter around her almost-nude body.

             
“Nothing.”
Her voice is low. “I say nothing to him because that is what I feel toward him.” I am washed with relief at her words. I walk across the room and take Ali in my arms.

             
“We just have to be patient,” I tell her, kissing her head. “Can you wait for me?” I ask softly, knowing that I’d wait a lifetime for her. Ali nods slowly, looking as frustrated as I feel.

             
“Until May?” she asks me, leaning back. I kiss the tip of her nose. I find it ironic that I am the one asking her to wait for me when the roles are usually reversed. I’m not complaining. I like the fact that this smoking-hot chick is trying to take advantage of me.

             
“Until May, then we can be together all the time.” Ali smiles that smile I love best and leans in to press her lips to mine.

             
“And then forever,” she repeats back to me. We sat on her kitchen floor listening to the rain, holding each other; love and patience seeped through us. There was nothing more we needed to say.

             
May.
Only five more months.
One hundred and fifty days of cold showers.

Nine

Allison

             
Cooper and I are back on track, or the best we can be, and have been talking every day for hours. We have hatched a plan, a secret schedule to be able to still be close. He even snuck over once while my dad was at work. On Christmas we exchanged gifts. I gave him a new watch, and he gave me a necklace with a seashell on it. He said it was from our beach and has had it with him since our last night there. I wear it every day instead of the key bracelet. I couldn’t wear it with Christina knowing what it meant to me. I want to take things to the next level with him, but understand why we can’t. Five months—that is my focus—just five more ridiculously long months.

             
It is January and our first day back to school from winter break. I am actually looking forward to my English class today. I know Cooper and I need to keep this secret, but he is just so incredibly handsome, and I can spend the entire class period ogling him instead of ignoring him. I hope I can keep myself under control. It won’t be easy since when I left for winter break, I was always a sneeze away from tears, and now you can’t wipe the smile off my face. I am walking between second and third period when Jeremy approaches me.

             
“So, you never called me back last night,” he says, putting his arm around my shoulders. I want to shrug off his arm but also don’t want to hurt his feelings or burn my friendship bridge with him. He has been so sweet to
me,
even after I called him back the day Cooper heard his message.

             
I told him that I liked spending time with him, but I just didn’t feel the same way. He said he understood and asked if we could still hang out. I reluctantly agreed and saw him one more time over the break, where he tried to kiss me. Since then I have been trying to avoid him, unsuccessfully.

             
“I’m sorry about that. I was just busy,” I lamely explain. He leans in and kisses my cheek.

             
“Can I take you out tonight?” he asks optimistically.
“As friends?”
As if adding the friends is going to change how he really feels about me. Sorry, buddy, not this girl.

             
“I really need to focus on school right now,” I lie. He takes in the information I feed him and nods, knowing my nerdy background.

             
“Okay,” he says easily. “See you in English.” He kisses me lightly on the cheek once more. I watch him disappear into the sea of students. I walk into third period dazed.

             
“Oh, Allison,” Mr. Thorn calls as I take my seat. “They need you in the office, something about tutoring. Here is a pass.” He hands me a slip of
paper, and I look at it confused. Do they know something?  Fear fills me, and sweat covers my skin. I swallow and smile.

             
“Thank you, Mr. Thorn,” I manage to say as I turn and walk out of class. I stop first in the girls’ restroom. I need to make sure I look innocent and pulled together. I do look paler than usual. After standing in front of the mirror for ten minutes, I will some color to my face, or so I convince myself. I take the slowest route to the office and find my counselor on the phone. She motions for me to sit, so I do.

             
“Hello, Allison,” she greets me. She seems calm, which is good. Of course if I were in some sort of trouble, I would have been called to the principal’s office, not the guidance counselor’s.

             
“Hello, Mrs. Brown. What’s up?” I am shaking. She is holding a folder and hands it to me.

             
“This is a list of all the seniors who say they have been taking tutoring with you and Mr. Perez. I need for you to sort it and mark their progress. I think some of them are lying about showing up at all. You know how it is. I have a desk here for you,” she said as she walked me a short distance and set me up. I let out the air I have been holding in my lungs and opened the folder. I’m paranoid.

             
Just like she had said, the progress that Mr. Perez had kept of the students we have seen since September. I spent third and fourth period in the office doing my paperwork, which is good because then I don’t have to
watch Ms. Sherman bounce around for an hour. The bell rings for lunch, and I start to pack my things. I just needed to turn in what I found to Mrs. Brown but got distracted as Cooper entered the office.

             
I wanted to wave to him but knew better. He didn’t see me anyway. He looked concerned and went into Mr. Matthew’s office, the principal, running his hand through his hair. I let myself move a little closer since the door didn’t close all the way. I don’t usually eavesdrop, but today it seemed appropriate, so I pretended to still be looking at my tutoring folder. No one was in the office except a secretary who was too busy on the phone to even notice me.

             
“It has been brought to my attention, Mr. Perez, that you might have some special interest in a student here at Chino Prep,” Mr. Matthew said.

             
There was a pause. “No special or any interest at all, sir,” Cooper answered. I held my breath listening. “Who would say such a thing?”

             
“It was noted that you spend extra time with Allison Starr,” Matthew countered.

             
“Well, of course I do, sir, she is the senior English tutor. We work together three times a week with her classmates.” Cooper sounded so sure and confident. “It is anything but special attention, sir. This obligation was passed to me by Mr. Snyder. I didn’t choose it.”

             
“Well, she
is
a good-looking girl and you are young,” he tested him. Cooper laughed, but I could tell he was uncomfortable.

             
“Mr. Matthew, I can assure you I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in Allison Starr.” Cooper cleared his throat. “I have suspected that she may have a crush on me, but my feelings have always and will always be strictly professional. I would never look at a student that way, sir. And you may not know this, but Stacy Sherman and I are seeing each other.” He paused. “It isn’t serious, but we have been out a few times.” He has to be convincing, I tell myself. Lying, that is what he is doing.
Has to be.

             
“Good to hear, Cooper,” the principal says. “Students may have their ideas and rumors, so we must keep ourselves professional.”

             
“Yes, sir.
I find most students, Allison, for example, may be immature and deluded with wild ideas. She really is nothing more than a student to me.” My heart is pounding hard in my chest, and my stomach is in a torturing knot. “You understand how students can be. Sometimes they become delusional and talk themselves into such an infatuation that they begin to believe it to be true. Allison is a good student, sir, but I again assure you she is nothing more than a student to me.”

             
“Very well—glad we cleared that all up,” the principal says, and they shake hands. I am frozen against the wall when Cooper leaves. He doesn’t see me or know that I heard him call me immature, delusional, and infatuated. Oh. And the best part—the girlfriend. Sure, he was just saying
that to throw Mr. Matthew off, but gosh, he sounded so sure and convincing. I had to wonder, had he been lying to the principal or to me?