Teacher's pet

chapter 4

He didn't show up the next day, or the day after that. I was beginning to think he quit. It was honestly stressing me out immensely.

My parents ended up buying me a new car. They tried to get my old one repaired, but it was no saving it. My new car wasn't much of a step up either, aside from the fact that it actually ran. They got the new one because the salesman said it would be reliable in winter. No more rides with Mr. Beckham.

"Merry Early Christmas, honey," my mother said as she handed me the keys to my new car, my new old car. At least I didn't have to give up my savings. "There's something your father wants to tell you." She quickly shuffled behind him. It was bad news. My parents were about the same height, with my mom being taller than the average woman.

"We'll be going to Florida--me, your mother, and Molly." Molly was my sister, she was a freshman at St. Jo's sister school, Mother Mary Sacred Heart Academy. That was seriously the actual name.

"And I'm not going because?" They'd actually done this very thing before. They'd gone to France for a whole summer. They went to Hawaii when I went to stay with my grandparents over Spring Break.

"This is serious business," my father said, no sympathy in his voice. "Molly is in a holiday volleyball tournament." I was still not too sure why I couldn't go. He could tell that I was getting upset. "You wouldn't have any fun, Champ. We're just going to be sitting in a gym, and her team is really good, so we might be in there all break."

"Thanks for leaving me out." I looked at Molly. I really loved my sister. It was just that--she was taller than me and better at sports and it really showed that my dad favored her. She frowned in my direction and I knew I couldn't blame her for this.

"If you really want to go," my father began. This was where I had to say that I didn't want to go.

"No, no. Have fun. I've always wanted to spend Christmas by myself."

"Really?" he asked in sincerity. He was never really any good at identifying sarcasm. "Then it all works out then."

"Yeah dad, it does." I was already bummed about Mr. Beckham, and now I was bummed about the holidays. I just couldn't catch a break.

Mr. Beckham didn't return until three days before Christmas break. That was a whole week after what happened. It was also about a week after I found out my family was leaving me behind for Florida.

I was glad he was back. I had been having a miniature breakdown. I hoped he didn't hate me now. I'd be fine if things just went back to the way they were. I didn't need to eat lunch with him, or even have conversations with him. I could be content watching his butt as he wrote on the chalkboard.

"Okay guys," he said, facing the class. He was looking sturdy. It looked like our kiss hadn't slowed his appetite. Maybe he was a nervous eater. He'd let his facial hair grow out a little more, in what I assumed to be an attempt to camouflage his developing double chin. "I hope the sub had you all begin the readings, chapters one through six."

"Yeah, it sucked!" Ken shouted from the back of the classroom. For once, I agreed with Ken.

"Oh, a real page turner!" I heard Charles say sarcastically behind me. I chuckled at his sarcasm; Mr. Beckham looked at me seriously. I could feel myself turn to stone.

"Guys, you have to focus on the relationships amongst the characters. It's what drives the novel."

"It's still bad Mr. B," Ken replied.

"Well, we're still reading it." Charles and Ken groaned simultaneously. Mr. Beckham lectured about the chapters we were to have read for the rest of the period, and the look he'd given me made me so anxious that I could hardly focus. He hated me now.

The bell rang. Lunch was starting and I got up to leave. I felt sick the more I thought about Mr. Beckham. I didn't know what ever made me think our relationship would be anything more than a fantasy. I always assumed he was straight. I was pretty sure people could kind of tell I was gay. It wasn't like I was the manliest of guys.

"Ethan, I'm going to have to see you for a moment." My heart stopped beating. I had stopped in the doorway. I turned around and reentered the classroom.

"What is it, Mr. Beckham?" I asked tentatively. He waited for the last straggler to make his way out of the room before he closed the classroom door. I wanted to make a break for it. I would have to start ditching his class. Maybe next semester I could be in another teacher's class.

"I was thinking about what happened." I felt my stomach tighten. What was he going to say? Was he angry? Did he hate me now? "You are eighteen. You've only got a few months left here."

"Yeah, and--and I don't want to get you in any trouble." I was standing with my shoulder parallel to the chalkboard. "I'm really sorry." He stood up and walked closer to me. He smelled like a man. I felt my back press against the chalkboard as I turned to face him. He was so close.

"You didn't do anything. I kissed you." He kissed me again, a quick one.

Something I had never expected to experience ever again.