What is this?
I place my bag on the floor next to my chair, and a shadow falls over me. When I lift my head, I realize taking the first seat wasn't the best idea. The first chair means, I'm directly in front of him. Elijah, the guy I keep thinking of since yesterday… Mr. Richards, my new English teacher. I swallow as his eyes roam over my face. I'm the first target of those blazing eyes. I quickly straighten my back as he looks at me. And his eyes fall to my breasts just like l
ast night.
My mouth goes dry, and I lick my lips. He watches my mouth, and with a soft shake of his head, he turns his head away from me.
“I’m not good at names, I’ll probably forget all of yours,” he says, looking at the other students in the class.
“Okay. I know I’m a substitute teacher and our time will probably be limited, which is good. High schools aren’t my thing. But I still need to teach you something, so I’ll teach you one thing I like, Writing.”
“Won’t you follow the teaching plan, Mr. Richards?” Brian asks.
“No. My class, my rules.”
I wonder if this is his first attempt at teaching because it’s obvious he doesn’t like teaching or being here. Last night, I saw a spark in him, a spark blazing so passionately as he talked about reading and writing. But now, in this class that spark is missing. Instead, he has a bored expression.
“Okay. In this first lesson, I’ll talk to you about general things, and we’ll go with questions. Who loves reading?” he asks.
I hesitantly lift my hand up. Looking around the class, I see I’m the only one. Really? I was hoping at least Brian, the class nerd would join me, but maybe he’s too stunned that Mr. Richards won’t follow the rules.
Mr. Richards doesn't look at me, and I feel a sense of disappointment as he frowns and nods. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I'll have to admit, I'm disappointed." He sighs before asking, "Can you name the top three books you've read and rather liked?"
Everyone looks anywhere but at him. No one wants to answer. Even though I’d answer him in a heartbeat, he doesn’t even spare me a glance. Maybe he doesn’t like seeing me in his class. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll be clingy now that I kind of know him. So I stay silent.
“I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey series,” Alicia, one of the cheerleader captains says with a giggle.
"I watched those movies, it must count," Candice, the other cheerleader, adds. Ugh, I hate this girl. She's a real dumb blondie. I don't really like cheerleaders, but if I have to choose between Alicia and Candice, I will choose Alicia every day. Still, Candice always gets what she wants with her whiny self, being the cheerleader captain included even though the spot is already taken by Alicia. Which school can have two captains for a damn cheerleading? Ours, apparently.
Mr. Richards rolls his eyes, and I can't help but smile.
“Well, I don’t mind what you read as long as you keep reading. Every book gives you something-”
"So you learned how to give great head from those books, Alicia?" Cory makes his idiotic comment.
“Be respectful,” Mr. Richards snaps.
"Oh, trust me, Mr. Richards, I respect her so much for that," Cory answers with a laugh.
"Okay. Enough. Erotic books aren't something to make fun of. Just because there's sex in a book doesn't make it trash. Actually, I read many erotic books during my study in creative writing, and they're just classics with modern world touches. You should give them a try without being a dick about it," Mr. Richards says. I wonder if anyone told him he shouldn't curse in class. But I smile, nonetheless. I love smut, and I like that he defends the genre.
"Well, our English classes will be more like creative writing which is self-explanatory enough. Anything you write can count as creative writing, at least as an attempt at it. Writing is subjective work, there's no real formula of right and wrong. As long as you write something, we're good. Now I want you to try it. Grab a paper and a pen and write whatever you're thinking, whatever it is. "
“Must we write what’s in our mind?” Cory asks.
“Yes. You can write whatever.”
I don't have to be a psychic to know what's in his mind, basketball and sex. He's probably the most predictable person on earth, and he hates me since I declined his offer to go out. I wasn't trying to be a bitch. It was my birthday, and I was hoping my parents would be home, so I didn't want to risk it by going out with Cory. That decision earned me my "cock tease" status in school, and as a birthday present, I got a credit card with a note from my parents' assistants. After an hour of crying, I lost my virginity to Cory's best friend, Kyle and ditched him right after the condom was off and just like that, I became the school's slut.
My life in this school became worse. Because that’s how high school works.
I bite inside my cheek to suppress the hurt and anger.
I should’ve known by now that emotional decisions are wrong decisions, but I haven’t. That’s why I rip one page from my journal and start writing.
I let out my breath slowly when I'm done writing. Rereading the cry of my heart, I fold the paper twice. Should I really give this to him? A complete stranger? But something in me wants him to read this, hear the scream of my soul. I want him to know me, see me, and maybe help me. He's the only one who doesn't belong to this shitty town with shitty people, and the hope that he's different is too much to ignore.
I notice everyone has already given him their papers when I lift my head up. Elij- No. Mr. Richards' gaze is focused on me for the first time since the beginning, and the fire in them is the encouragement I must be searching for because I hand him my paper without a second thought.