Hot For Teacher(129)

Arleen suddenly bombards my mind.

Images of her hair, her skin, and the stupid locket I still carry in my pocket are flooding over me all at once. I try to block it out by closing my eyes, but the images only become clearer. Her damn beautiful smile infiltrates my moment with Katie.

“I should go.”

“Simon—”

I’m reaching for the doorknob before she can finish her sentence. “See you tomorrow, Miss Shields.”

I shut the door and head straight for the bathroom. After locking myself in a stall, I lean back against the door and wipe the sweat from my brow.

“Dammit!”





Chapter Seventeen


I’m mad. I’m mad. I’m mad. I’m mad. I recite it over and over to myself as I walk to debate. Arleen still hasn’t spoken to me, which is fine. It seems every time she opens her mouth I find something more to love about her. And I did not need that complication in my life.

Shit!

I did not just say love! I meant like. I meant like!

I groan.

With Miss Shields refusing to let me swap partners, it seems I’m stuck. I just need to stick to my original plan and not let Arleen affect me.

“Listen up, everyone!” Miss Shields begins as I take my seat in the library. “I just got the debate subject for Saint Louis. So I want everyone to break up into the pairs that were assigned to you last week and begin your research.” The thirty students in the library all have their attention focused on our coach, but my eyes are glued to the floor. I can feel Arleen stealing glances in my direction as Miss Shields continues, but I can’t hear any voice outside of the one in my own mind.

It’s not like I’m supposed to marry the girl. I’m eighteen years old! I’m supposed to go to college and drink and have sex and eat Ramen noodles and worry about tests and homework! I can’t be concerned about a girl who’s obviously done well enough taking care of herself for the past six years.

She hasn’t tried to contact me or visit the ruins in the past seventy-two hours. She probably doesn’t want anything to do with me! Our insanely sexy kissing session was a total fluke. Or worse, something she regrets.

Whatever, I’ll bet she has health issues and detachment issues and drug issues! Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. She probably has a shitload of drama that I don’t need to deal with. I simply don’t have room in my life for someone with that much baggage.

She’ll only weigh me down.

My pathetic attempt to convince myself I’m better off without Arleen fails, and I completely miss the debate topic announcement. I glance around at the commotion of everyone rising from their seats and splitting into pairs.

But it’s fine. I’m totally fine. Keeping an emotional distance from Arleen is the best thing for me. I almost made the mistake of becoming “invested” in her. I won’t make that mistake again. Whether or not I truly believe it is beside the point; I just need to stay strong and go back to life as I knew it.

I get to my feet and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I walk to Arleen, who is now tugging at her lip and looking at me through her lashes.

“If you’d prefer to do this solo, I’ll understand. But I already asked Ka... Miss Shields, and she refused. So if you’d rather work alone, you’ll have to tell her yourself.” I sit down across from her, slowly rummaging for a pen in my backpack, waiting for Arleen’s response. After I’ve removed my notebook and opened it—still without her reply—I look up and my eyes meet hers.

“Don’t be upset with me, please,” she whispers.

“Nope! Not upset at all. Just want to get this over with,” I say indifferently.

She swallows and I can see the remorse in her posture. “Do you want to work alone?” she asks.

“I don’t give a shit. Do what you want to do.”

She furrows her brow. “Why are you such a douche?”

I throw my hands up in frustration and grit my teeth. “How am I being a douche? You’re the one who hasn’t spoken to me since we spent the night together. You’re the one who didn’t try to contact me. You’re the one who didn’t give a shit it was me you were with as long as it was someone!” I realize I’m shouting by the time I get to the last sentence, and look around the room. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes are on me—along with Miss Shields’s.

And I realize I just sounded like a little bitch. Or worse, a jilted boyfriend.

So much for keeping my cool.

Miss Shields narrows her eyes at me and her tongue is poking into her cheek. She looks at Arleen, then back again to me, and I know she knows something is going on between us.

Fuck it. I don’t care who knows.