Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I look to the other side of the door and down the hall, making sure no one else is coming. “Turn you in?” I cross my arms, amused.
“I’m sorry,” he laughs nervously. “I mean it in a friendly way.” He exhales loudly and I try to silently tell him that this is perfect - that he’s perfect. “I sometimes get to know my students as friends,” he stammers on, pausing again. “Um, this is coming across very poorly.”
“So then it’s typical for you to call your students beautiful?” I can’t help my beaming smile.
“God, no!” he hesitates. “I’ve never said that to any of them before.” He’s nervous, no longer meeting my eye. “Um, maybe I should go.”
I don’t have a chance to respond before he’s brushing past me and out of the room. I watch as he briskly walks down the hall, my mouth too dry to call after him, my legs too shaky to run.
What the hell just happened?
I shake my head, trying to make sense of it all before I shut the lights followed by his classroom door.
I slowly make my way out of the school, and to my car, already replaying his words over and over again.
LUNCH
I get to school early the following day, overflowing with a fervent desire to see him. The light under his office door bleeds into the otherwise still dark hallway and I hesitate before knocking.
“One minute!” He shouts and I can hear rustling on the other side.
It’s a few seconds before he finally opens the door, but when he does, he’s surprised to see me.
“Luci,” I can’t tell if his astonished expression is a good one or not.
“You, um, left yesterday rather abruptly.” He doesn’t respond. “Can I come in?”
He’s still quiet, and I take it as a sign that I’m not welcome. “It’s okay, never mind,” I start to walk away.
“Wait, Luci,” he sighs and moves to the side. “Of course you can.”
I’ve never seen the inside of his office before. It’s small, with counters and cabinets along the perimeter, and a small island in the middle. There are no bottom cabinets along the far wall, allowing for the counter to act as a desk. He pulls out his cushioned desk chair and offers it to me, before going to the other side of the island and grabbing a stool for himself.
“About yesterday-”
“Can we please just forget about it?” He interrupts me.
That’s the very last thing I want to do, but I nod anyway, trying to mask my disappointment.
“God you have to make everything so difficult,” he murmurs.
“Sorry,” I mumble, trying to cheer myself up. I think he’s upset, mad even, but when I look up he’s smiling, leaving me even more confused. “It’s not like you said anything bad,” I state calmly, wanting him to know it’s okay. I pause, waiting for him to say something, and when he doesn’t, I take a deep breath, too anxious not to ask this for myself.
“I have to know…” It comes out as a whisper. He’s scared by what I’m going to ask, nervous; I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t stop me though, so I continue. “Did you just say that to try and make me feel better?”
He’s staring at me, maybe even gazing. I swallow hard and he slowly starts to nod his head no - he didn’t say it just to make me feel better, he meant it.
The first bell rings, and I take it as my cue to go. I got what I came here for, hell, I got the answer I came here for. The halls will be crowded in no time, but I don’t want to leave.
“Since you did so poorly on your last quiz,” he clears his throat and bends down, picking up my backpack and handing it to me, “I thought maybe you could use some extra help.”
“Okay,” I can’t help my smile as I take my bag from him. We both know I don’t need the extra help.
“Your lunch period is the same as mine?” He places his hands in his pockets.
“Yes,” I bite my lip answering, remembering running into him yesterday during that time.
“Good,” he smiles. “So I’ll see you then.”
I buzz though the day, counting down the hours until lunch. I don’t even bother going to the cafeteria, and make some lame excuse to Chloe as to why. I have to stop at my locker before I meet Mr. Harrington, and I see two people going at it from down the hall, praying it’s not my locker they’re locking lips in front of.
As I get closer, I realize it is. The girl is pinned right up against it, the guy carelessly exploring her mouth with his tongue. It looks like a gross, nasty, sloppy kiss.
“Hey!” I shout.
They must have thought I was a teacher, judging by the way they jumped back so quickly, but as soon as I see her face I’m stunned. “Oh my god, Gracie?!”