My Dirty Little Secret

Chapter Nine

Brooke's POV

Dear Lord, what had I done?

It was bad enough that I'd almost kissed Chelsea - that alone could have kept me up at night for months. But then I'd gone and admitted it to her. I'd held her hands, not once but twice. I'd broken the boundary between teacher and student by talking to her about my personal life. And I'd told her to call me "Brooke."

I felt ashamed, and guilty, and painfully afraid that someone would find out.

Of course, my tremendous guilt cloud had its silver lining: she'd told me she liked me too.

At least, that's what I thought she'd said. She'd only said she wanted to kiss me, but wasn't that the same thing? Not just in that one moment, she'd said, but "since the very first day." And, she was hurt when I didn't talk to her in school. And she busted her water bottle open with rage when she saw me stunting with another girl. Maybe I was being vain, but in my mind, that had to mean she had feelings for me. 

Not that it mattered. I didn't -- No, I couldn't have feelings for her. Because at the very center of a mess getting messier, was Kate.  

_______

The following day passed slowly, and while I was expecting it to be awkward between me and Chelsea, it wasn't. I had her to thank for that. She acted as if nothing had changed. We talked, and joked around; she answered questions in class; she ran my attendance sheet to the office. I'd told her that yes, I had feelings for her, but that I couldn't start anything with her, and she'd accepted it so fully. I didn't want to change our relationship, and so that's exactly what happened. At first, I didn't know how she'd feel, but now I realized that she was determined to respect what I wanted. 

So that's what it feels like to have someone respect what you want, I thought to myself.

Practice hadn't officially started yet, but we were all in the gym by 2:30 anyhow. Some girls were still changing, doing their hair, putting their stuff together. I was grading an essay I'd never finished. Chelsea was on the phone, having a dramatic exchange with someone named Ashley.

"I didn't, Ashley! I can't do this. Okay, look, be mad at me, but I still need a ride home. You can't just leave me, I live five miles south of here! Am I supposed to walk? Okay, you know what? Bye. I'd rather walk." 

She was reminding me of the affair I'd had with Kate the previous morning. If hers was anything like ours, it'd blow over in half an hour and she probably wouldn't have to worry about a ride, but I made a mental note to make sure she was okay before I left.

Later on, we were working on jumps and everything was going well, except the girls' toe touches. There were legs going everywhere, bent knees and flexed toes, and as normal, the only one doing it right, was Chelsea.

I hated to do this, but I had to. It truly had nothing to do with her. I had to show them somehow. 

"Chelsea, come here," I said, the pain of temptation showing its ugly head. She obliged. "This is how you position your legs for a toe touch," I explained, gesturing for her to give me her leg.

She did so and I raised it. My chest was against her back, my entire right arm pulling her into me, my hand in a firm grip around her smooth calf. She was flexible, I noticed, and it made me shiver. If I didn't let go soon, I probably wouldn't be able to control myself. This was a lesson, I kept telling myself. That was all it was.

"Notice how she extends it in front," I taught. "Not to the side. Her hip flexors are open, her back is straight, both knees are locked, and her toes are pointed." The more I examined her body, the harder it got to focus. I lost track of what I was saying for a minute, then returned to earth.

"Okay," I said quickly, letting her go. "So that's what you do."

______

"Sorry I had to use you as an example," I said to Chelsea after practice. Then, a little more quietly, I added, "But you were the only one doing it right."

She laughed, then bit her lip before quietly saying, "I can't say I minded."

Nervously, I looked down and moved hair out of my eye as I honestly admitted, "I can't say I did either."

She had a lustful look in her eyes that she removed almost instantaneously. I knew she was receding for my sake. "I'd better go," she said, breaking the tension. "My stupid ex-girlfriend won't drive me home."

I'd forgotten all about that. "How far is it?" I inquired.

"Around five miles."

"What? Are you kidding?"

"Yes," she smiled. "It's hardly one."

"Why won't she drive you?" I questioned anyway, concerned for her safety and already not liking whoever it was that put her in this position. I knew that there were a billion more reasons for me not to like any of Chelsea's ex-girlfriends, but that was irrelevant.

"I don't know," she said, rolling her eyes. "Because she's stupid."

"She has to be," I thought out loud. 

"What?" she asked.

I smiled, suddenly not caring whether I opened up about my feelings or not. "She has to be, if she let you go."

She smiled back, wrinkling up her nose in the cutest way. "You're too sweet," she said. Then reiterated, "I should get walking."

"Oh, no," I said, the instincts of a teacher coming out. "You can't walk all that way."

"I have to," she said, matter-of-factly.

There was only one logical answer in my mind, but I knew I couldn't drive her home. That was going too far.

"Your parents aren't home?"

She shook her head. "They work all the time, out of state. They're usually only home a few days out of the month."

I thought it over, knowing what I shouldn't do, but also what any compassionate person would do. To confirm my decision, thunder clapped outside.

"Come on," I said, gesturing to her as we walked towards the parking lot. "I'll give you a ride."

"No," she said. "No, it's fine."

"Chelsea, I'm not letting you walk."

She smiled. "You're not my teacher anymore. You're not the boss of me."

"Will you stop being ridiculous?"

"Will you stop being so nice all the time?"

"Chelsea," I began.

"Brooke," she imitated, trying out the use of my first name. I had to laugh.

I crossed my arms. "That's really cute."

"Just like you," she flirted boldly, cocking her head to one side.

"Am I cute enough for you to let me take you home?" I attempted one more time.

"Why, Miss Chandler," she gasped, acting shocked. "How inappropriate. It's far too early for you to take me home," she said, twisting my words.

"That is not what I meant!"

She put her hands up, feigning innocence. "How am I supposed to know what you meant?"

"Can you just shut up and come with me?"

"And what if you try to take advantage of me?" she protested sarcastically.

I shook my head, laughing. "Get in the car."