Hot For Sensei

Chapter Four

The school bell rang just as Ivy had gathered her things and closed her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and joined the crowds of kids leaving the building. It hadn't been a bad year, but she was glad it was the last day of school anyway. She was looking forward to laying around by the lake and camping with her family. Hopefully, her dad had gotten everything packed up so they could leave right away. He had a habit of procrastinating and forgetting things.

She turned the corner with a hop in her step, only to be stopped dead in her tracks. A Sheriff's car was parked outside of her house, and the Sheriff himself was standing on her porch. He turned and looked to her, his face grim.

"Are you Ivy Taylor?"

"Y-Yes..." her throat was suddenly dry.

"Come on over here, girl. We need to talk." He motioned to her.

Her feet had obeyed and soon she was next to him on the porch. He motioned her gently to the set of wicker chairs, and they sat down slowly.

"Now, this isn't going to be easy..." he started.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

Ivy had been one to play tricks now and then, but never anything that would get her arrested.

"No, hun. You see...there's been an accident..." he let out a sigh.

"What kind?" her voice was barely a whisper.

"A car crash. A semi took too sharp of a turn and your parents got caught up in the after math. They didn't make it out, I'm sorry." He said as gently as he could.

"My...my parents are...are dead?" she could barely push it out, her throat had all but closed as tears stung at her eyes.

"Yes, hun. I'm so sorry. We called your grandma, and she's on the first plane out to come and get you- "

Ivy heard nothing after that. Instead her mind filled with images of the family minivan getting crushed, her parents body's contorting at odd angles as the weight bore down on them. And then there was blood, so much blood, and she wanted nothing more than to puke.

Her body shot up right in her bed as she tried to catch her breath, her hair soaked in sweat and plastered to her face. She let out a cry of frustration as she scraped the hair away and took in her surroundings. The apartment was empty and dead quiet as she remembered where she was. Her teeth ground in anger. She thought she had done a great job of pushing that day to the back of her mind, but it had returned to haunt her dreams.

"Why did you have to say anything, grandma?" she groaned loudly as she forced herself out of bed.

She had no idea what time it was, and she didn't care, all she knew was that she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. In a haste, she threw on some clothes, grabbed her purse and left her apartment to head to Miguel's.

Once at the door, she raised her fist to pound but stopped herself. She could forgive Miguel for pounding on her door since she lived alone, but Miguel lived with his mom and grandma, and she didn't want to disturb them. Gently, she tapped on the door a few times.

A middle-aged woman opened the door. She was Latina, with tan skin, curly black hair and brown eyes like Miguel's. She gave Ivy a curious look before speaking.

"Yes?" her voice was warm but cautious.

"Hi, Mrs...Miguel's mom. Is Miguel home?"