Hot For Teacher(136)

I fucked up. I was wrong. Now I have to live with the consequences.

My phone vibrates, and I check the text. It’s from Miss Shields.

I hope you’re packing. ;) See you in the parking lot at 5am. I’m very much looking forward to this weekend.

This is a fucking nightmare.

***

The drive to Saint Louis is long. It’s a nine-hour bus ride, and the only stops we make are for food. Arleen has avoided me like the plague, and makes sure to sit as far away from me as she can.

Miss Shields, on the other hand, is entirely too close for comfort. She occasionally flips her hair to expose her neck, or crosses her legs and runs a finger down her calf. I know what that would’ve done to me a few weeks ago, but instead it only grates on my nerves.

I know one thing for sure: I am not having sex with Miss Shields this weekend. No way.

When our bus arrives downtown, Miss Shields stands. “All right, everyone! We’re going to be at the hotel in about five minutes. Make sure you’ve paired up and you know who you’ll be sharing rooms with. If you could all stay in the lobby until I’ve checked us in, then I can hand out everyone’s keys. I want this to run smoothly, so please make sure you’re on your best behavior.”

I watch her sit back down, adjusting her skirt to cover her legs. But as I look down, the lace of her thigh-high can be seen. I look back up to where Arleen is sitting a few rows back, and she’s watching me. Her eyes narrow as she realizes where I’d been focusing my attention.

I’m sure she pieced it together. I don’t know how many spreadsheets she got to, but it was obvious that Katie Shields was on my to-do list. Her name was below Number Ten and highlighted. Arleen probably thinks I’m not only delusional, but that I had intentions of using her as a stepping stone to get to Miss Shields.

What a wreck.

We get into the hotel lobby, and there are hundreds of students standing around. Miss Shields quickly ushers us into a corner, and we’re all squished together so that we’re not standing in the main aisle. Our luggage is crammed in with us.

Arleen is directly in front of me. She’s so close I can smell her. My palms begin to sweat, and I want to reach out and hold her down so she’ll listen. I want her to know that what she saw on that screen showed the idiot I was, not the moron I am today.

I shake my head and chuckle to myself. I am a complete moron, aren’t I? Arleen turns her head to the side and sees the smile on my face. But I can’t remove it fast enough. She looks down and begins pushing her way through the crowd. She runs to the bathroom, covering her face so I can’t see her expression.

I step out from our group and try to follow her, but Miss Shields stops me. “Oh, Simon.” She smiles shyly. “Here’s your key.” Handing me the small folder with the card, her hand lingers on mine for a moment before she heads toward the rest of the group.

“Everyone gather around, please…” I hear Miss Shields begin, but I set off to find Arleen.

I open the bathroom door slowly, and look around the room to make sure no one sees me enter. The door creaks, and there are two women standing at the sinks. I close the door quickly and back out of the room.

“Wrong bathrooms, Simon.” Miss Shields says from behind me. “Go up to the room and put your things away. We need to meet in the conference room for the Welcome Dinner in twenty minutes. No time to dillydally.”

I nod and drag my bags to the elevator.

Once I enter the room, if there was any question as to what Miss Shields had planned for us this weekend, it was definitely answered. My debate coach clearly intended for something extravagant.

She booked two adjoining suites. “This room sure beats what I had last year,” I mutter, looking around. The suite has two bedrooms, one on each side of the main living area. The upholstery is white. Everything is white—from the curtains to the couch cushions. The beds are all draped in white linens, and even the blanket on the back of the armchair is white. The only color in the room is the dark green carpet used throughout the entire hotel, and black granite countertops in the kitchen. The place is immaculate, and I can only imagine how much she paid for these rooms.

But the fancy shit doesn’t impress me. My parents keep their house just as sterile as this room. I’d rather be with Arleen at the ruins any day over this.

I set my bags down and meet up with some other students in the elevator as we walk toward the conference room.

I look around for Arleen, but can’t spot her right away. Miss Shields is also a no-show, but she’s probably taking care of last-minute hotel business.

I grab a plate of food and sit down with my team.