Hot For Teacher(107)

I stand abruptly, making him stand too. With a fresh round of tears welling in my eyes, I turn around and walk out the door and don’t look back. All of this could’ve been avoided if I’d just been honest with him. But this is his fault too. He made me fall for him. He pushed our relationship out of my comfort zone.

Every single decision was made by him, not me. Not us.

For that he needs to take some responsibility.





Chapter Seven


I take the next day off school and feign sick when Mom asks what’s wrong. I can’t be in the same place as Eli today. She leaves it at that, even though I think she knows there is more to it. I tell her to go when she considers calling in sick for her shift—which is a double.

Moping around the house, I listen to music, watch TV, and work on an assignment. Mom went to work, so there’s no one to talk to so I can take my mind off this clusterfuck of a situation.

I spend most of the afternoon watching reruns of The Bachelor. He turns out to be an ass who cheated on her one month after the engagement. Are all men assholes?

That night, I text Alice. It’s been a while and I feel bad. She might be able to talk some sense into me.

Me: Hey. Sorry I’ve been MIA since our text yesterday. Fucking hell Alice, you have no idea how fucked up all this is.

Alice: Why? What happened? He found out your age. So what? It’s not like you’re a minor. What kind of dude doesn’t want young, legal pussy?

I laugh in spite of myself.

Me: He’s my fucking teacher Al. He’s taking over Mr. Anderson because he’s sick. Oh, even worse? He’s Mr. Anderson’s fucking son.

I throw my body against the pillow on the bed as I’m getting angry again. Why the hell would this happen to me?

Alice: Well fuck me to the moon and back. I never saw that coming. What are you going to do?

Me: I have no idea. He makes me feel so alive. I don’t know what to do. Not that it matters. I need to forget anything ever happened.

I really wanted to say he made me feel loved.

Do I love him? I mean, we have been talking for a while and we have a connection like I’ve never felt. Or is that what you call lust?

Alice: Maybe talk to him again and let him know how you feel?

Maybe. No, he made it clear where we stood. All talking to him about it would do is make me look desperate.

***

The next morning, I wake early and set out for a run. It’s been a few weeks since I ran. Running clears my head and gives me time to think. I used to run a lot in the early days when Dad got posted overseas. I used to worry about him constantly. Every phone call would have me wondering if that was it. Every unexpected knock on the door... It’s still hard now, but a different kind of hard. I guess you could say I’m used to it. As used to it as one can actually get.

I’ve got The Avett Brothers blaring through the headphones and I’m doing my hardest to not think about anything other than my feet hitting the concrete. I run for about an hour, and by the end of it I’m about ready to collapse. My legs shake as I force them to carry me inside to the kitchen, where I grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

On the counter, I see Mom has left a note on the table to let me know she’s out for the day but doesn’t elaborate. It’s her day off today. I wonder where she has gone, because like me, she doesn’t have many friends here. Not that she’s told me about, anyway.

Since Mom has gone out, I decide to have one more day off. One more day to get my emotions in order before I have to face him. Around lunch, I can hear from phone ringing in the bedroom. I race up the stairs and launch for the phone before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello,” I say, breathless

“Jill?” I groan inwardly and sink my head into my pillows.

It’s Eli. Fuck. Why didn’t I check to see who was calling before I answered it?

“What do you want, Eli? It’s a bit inappropriate for my teacher to be calling me on my cell phone, don’t you think?” I reply, my voice snarky.

“You haven’t turned up to class for the last two days and I was worried about you.” Well, fuck me. Anyone would think he actually cares.

“Worried about your career is more like it,” I mutter. I know I’m being childish, but I don’t care. I mean, that’s the whole point, right? That I’m a child?

“Jill,” he sighs.

“Eli,” I deadpan.

“Listen, can I come over? We need to talk.”

“I thought you did enough talking yesterday,” I mumble. I’m not making this easy for him. But why the hell should I? My reaction to his words is the only thing I feel I have any control over right now.

“I’m coming over,” he growls. “I know your Mom is at work because I called her first.”