clearly stays after school with him on a regular basis.
“Wait,” he holds up his hand and reaches forward to nothing. “You didn’t do well on your quiz today.” He lets out a small laugh before running his fingers through his hair. I want to desperately do that - run my fingers through his hair, down his neck, to his back, feeling him all over. “In fact, you did terrible,” his voice brings me back down to earth. “Even after I gave you a hint.”
“Yeah, bad day I guess,” I shrug.
“Yeah,” he agrees and my fists automatically ball. I’m either so mad I want to punch him or I’m desperately trying not to reach out and touch him. Probably a little of both.
The way his face suddenly falls instantly saddens me.
“Or maybe I’m just trying to do terribly on purpose, so I can stay after school and get help too,” I joke, my absurdly jealous jab at that Madison girl.
He laughs, breaking into one of the biggest grins I’ve ever seen.
“You’re trouble,” he shakes his head and we stand in an awkward silence for what feels like forever.
“Well,” I sigh. “I guess I should go.”
“Okay,” he swallows. I start to turn around to leave when I notice his hand shooting up again. “Wait,” he stops me. “I feel like what I said earlier came across a little strange,” his eyes turn fierce and extraordinary. “When I said you’re great the way you are,” his voice trails off and he closes his eyes and scrunches his face, like he’s struggling. “What I meant to say is… that I think you’re really beautiful.”
My mouth falls open and my heartbeat quickens. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my wrists and neck, so much so that I think I may combust.
“And I mean that in the most appropriate way possible ,” he laughs, opening his eyes again. They radiate a blue, like the color of the most perfectly clear sky. “But maybe I should just stop talking to you before you turn me in or something.”
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
“Wait,” he holds up his hand and reaches forward to nothing. “You didn’t do well on your quiz today.” He lets out a small laugh before running his fingers through his hair. I want to desperately do that - run my fingers through his hair, down his neck, to his back, feeling him all over. “In fact, you did terrible,” his voice brings me back down to earth. “Even after I gave you a hint.”
“Yeah, bad day I guess,” I shrug.
“Yeah,” he agrees and my fists automatically ball. I’m either so mad I want to punch him or I’m desperately trying not to reach out and touch him. Probably a little of both.
The way his face suddenly falls instantly saddens me.
“Or maybe I’m just trying to do terribly on purpose, so I can stay after school and get help too,” I joke, my absurdly jealous jab at that Madison girl.
He laughs, breaking into one of the biggest grins I’ve ever seen.
“You’re trouble,” he shakes his head and we stand in an awkward silence for what feels like forever.
“Well,” I sigh. “I guess I should go.”
“Okay,” he swallows. I start to turn around to leave when I notice his hand shooting up again. “Wait,” he stops me. “I feel like what I said earlier came across a little strange,” his eyes turn fierce and extraordinary. “When I said you’re great the way you are,” his voice trails off and he closes his eyes and scrunches his face, like he’s struggling. “What I meant to say is… that I think you’re really beautiful.”
My mouth falls open and my heartbeat quickens. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my wrists and neck, so much so that I think I may combust.
“And I mean that in the most appropriate way possible ,” he laughs, opening his eyes again. They radiate a blue, like the color of the most perfectly clear sky. “But maybe I should just stop talking to you before you turn me in or something.”
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
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