Mr. Halloway's Pet

Chapter One

Two months later:

I fiddle with my pen, eyes glued to Mr. Halloway as he paces in front of the whiteboard, pointing to the outline for this week's essay.

Instead of following along with notes, I scribble yet another heart surrounding 'PA + EH' in big bubble letters. Glancing back up from my paper, I catch Mr. Halloway's eye and feel my heart skip a beat.

It was a brief, subtle look. Too quick for my liking. But the intensity in his blue eyes leaves a lasting pulse in my blood.

I bite my lip again, this time harder in hopes of distracting myself from any images that may pop up when I glance at his hands.

Despite my half-assed efforts, scenes of what he could be doing-- or has already done with those calloused fingers of his--flash in front of my eyes like a projector.

I squeeze both my thighs together and close my eyes, trying to shut down any daydreaming I've lured myself into.

When I open my eyes again, I'm met with the same piercing gaze, this time lasting much longer than the prior small glance. My heart shouldn't have stuttered as hard as it did at the connection, but it fumbles for what seems to be the millionth time this class period.

The corner of his mouth lifts at a pause in his lecture, then he turns his back to the class and continues rambling on about the introduction paragraph.

My chin rests heavy in the palm of my hand and I all but sigh. Perhaps my obsession with him is a little overboard but my heart doesn't care. Everything about him is perfect, from his perfect face all the way down to his perfect ass.

Speaking of his ass, I probably shouldn't spend the entire class period staring. No one cares or is even paying attention but I still look around to make sure no one catches sight of my love notes and where my attention has been for the past two months.

The sound of his hands clapping together is enough to break me out of my trance, "Alright, you guys have a couple minutes to put your things away. Make sure you come in tomorrow with a thesis and a general topic sentence. Doesn't have to be perfect, but please give me something to work with."

He dismisses us and sits back in his desk chair with nothing else to say. Everyone begins throwing their notebooks into backpacks and standing from their chairs to line up at the door and chat.

I take my time with packing up.

Starting with the mess on my desk, I slowly grab the English book and put it away, followed by a colorful range of pencils and pens. By the time I zip my bag, the bell rings and I'm left in the classroom alone with the devil himself.

I stand from my chair, allowing it to take its time to scrape against the tiled floor. He looks up from the papers his nose was previously buried in.

The enveloped note is neatly folded between my thumb and index finger and with every step I take, my heels clack against the floor.

Upon approaching him, I extend my arm, "Here's my thesis."

With that being said, I turn my back and exit the classroom before he could open it or even give me a reply.

It was definitely not a thesis. More along the lines of my most prized hot pink thong and a very steamy message for him inside an envelope with a spritz of my favorite vanilla perfume.

I'm assuming he already suspects what may be waiting for him. This isn't our first rodeo.

The thong will be a surprising aspect, though. I don't have enough underwear for every letter I write him.

The thought of him pulling it from the envelope is enough for me to smile like an idiot and rush to the last class of the day.

°•°•°•°

"That was one hell of a thesis."
-Mr. Halloway

The moment I scan the text, I let out a squeal. From the comfort of my bedroom, I continue making inhuman noises as I type my reply.

"yea it took lots and lots of research, I knew you'd appreciate it. hope my sources were credible enough for you ;)"
-Paige's iPhone

I chew my fingernails as I wait for his text back. 5 minutes pass with no answer.

Heaving a sigh, I throw my phone aside and get up from bed. I really need to get a hobby that doesn't involve drooling over a dude.

I scan over my work one more time. Not only did I complete my actual thesis, but I'd finished a rough draft of the entire essay.

I was wanting to get done with the final draft tonight but if my brain cells have to work any harder, they're done for.

Buzz.

My heart jumps with me toward the phone, but I'm met with disappointment. I thought I turned my notifications for trivia crack off. The screen goes black and reflects the downturned corners of my lips.

"Hi, honey." A voice breaks the silence and I pretty much drop to the ground and suffer from a series of heart attacks. At least that's what the jolt through my body felt like. My heart is really getting its cardio in today.

"Heyyy, mom." I say, throwing my phone down to the bed once more.

She lets herself into the room, beginning to pick up my scattered shirts from the ground and folding them neatly, a nervous habit on her part. The medication she takes has caused her to adopt many anxious tics.

She smooths out the fabric, fingers running themselves across several times. I watch her observe the feel of my textured blouse and focus her attention on me, "How was school?"

Her question doesn't bother me as much as it used to, I've just learned to shrug and change the subject out of paranoia. I'm way too concerned with her finding out about a certain individual, even if there's no way she could know.

"It was alright, same as usual. Just finished my essay." I chirp, motioning toward my desk full of scattered papers and a variety of books.

"That's awesome, sweetheart," she pauses, neatly lies the shirt she was previously folding onto my chair, and takes the few steps for us to be face-to-face, "I'm so proud of how good you're doing this school year. I know last year was a struggle, but..." her voice waivers as her sentence comes to a pause.

"I know, mom. I'm glad things have turned around for us." I give her a small smile as she gently taps my cheek affectionately, prompting a bigger, more toothy smile from me.

"I love you so much, honey." She pulls me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head, "but I'm going to hit the sack. Hard. Goodnight."

After exchanging another hug, she disappears into the hall.

Mom and I have always been close but moments like those make my heart happy. It's not often she opens up to me, or anyone for that matter, but the vulnerability in her eyes make me feel better about my own.

My body slumps onto the soft mattress, coming into contact with something a little more solid.

I dig the hard object out from under my shoulder blade and see a familiar name light up on the phone screen,

"Oh, the sources were extraordinary, and the detail was perfect. I'd love to see that thesis in person. I get out of the meeting at 4:30pm tomorrow if you'd like to meet up after and discuss what points you'll be reviewing in that next paragraph?"
-Mr. Halloway

His words have me hugging my phone to my chest and sighing dreamily. Sometimes it's hard to believe this is happening to me. Out of all the girls in school, I happened to be the one he walked in on trying to steal that answer key. Lacking academic intelligence came in clutch for me.

I refocus my attention back to the phone and work on my response.

"Sounds like a date. I'll see you tomorrow."
-Paige's iPhone