It's Lust, Not Love

Part 6

Ana’s POV

Lewis looked at me for a second. He looked shocked, and I could only imagine the expression on my face. A mix of horror, surprise, confusion, lust and who knows what else all thrown together on my face. Wonderful. I heard some girl say “I could just eat him up!” Lewis then blinked, seemed to recompose himself, and walked to his desk in the center of the class. What the hell was going on? Is this some kind of sick joke? What happened to the 18 year old guy I was dating? You never actually asked him how old he was! A little voice inside my head reminded me. This was a disaster. I couldn’t date my teacher! I wished I knew what he was thinking.

Lewis’s POV

What was Ana doing in my class, at a desk, in a school girl uniform. A very sexy uniform, I thought before I could stop myself. She never told me she was in high school! But I had never told her how old I was, either. Shit, I was such an idiot. I really felt like punching something. Wait, did the other students notice? Just act normal, Lewis. Treat her like she’s just another student. I walked over to my desk. Why did she have to sit so close to my desk? I put on a fake grin and turned to address the class.

“Sorry I’m late. This is my first class of the day.” I pushed my hand through my hair to calm myself. “I’m Mr. Fairbanks. I’m the new art teacher, obviously. Any questions?”

“Where’s Mr. Marlin?” I heard the guy sitting next to Ana ask. I made sure not to look at her.

“He quit. Principal Howard said something about Mr. Marlin joining the Peace Corp, I think.” I heard a couple kids mutter “typical”. I really wish I had met this Marlin guy. He sounded interesting. Then I heard another question.

“How old are you?” This came from a blonde girl in the back. Another blonde girl sitting next to her giggled and said “Luanne!”

I knew I’d get this question. I did look a little younger than I actually was. “22,” was my reply. I glanced over at Ana. It was a mistake. She looked really pale. I quickly looked away.

“Don’t you need, like, to go to some kind of art-teaching school thing to teach her? Aren’t you too young?” This came from the other blonde girl, Luanne’s friend.

“Not to teach this class, I don’t. I have enough experience teaching art, so it wasn’t a problem.”

“What’s your accent?” Another question.

“Australia. Any further questions? No? Then let’s all get to know each other by playing what I like to call “The Name Game”. We start with the first person over there” I pointed to the person furthest right in the front row, “and go around the room saying our name, age, and favorite artistic thing to do. Then the next person says theirs and then repeats what all the people before them said. If you make a mistake, you have to sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat. I’ll start.” I paused. “Lewis Fairbanks, 22, and I like to paint. Now you go.”

“Rodney, 17, I like to sketch.”

“C-Candice, 14, I like to paint. He’s Rodney, 17, and likes to sketch?” I nodded at her and gave her a smile.

They kept going till it was Ana’s turn.

“Anabel Lee, 16” Oh god, not even legal. “and I like photography.” She said Rodney’s fine, then paused. “Candice, um, 15? And likes to… er…draw?” She guessed. I shook my head, and the class started chanting, “Sing! Sing!” She glared at me and blushed, then sang the song. The class applauded when she finished, and the Name Game carried on. When I was sure nobody was watching, I gave her an apologetic shrug. She quickly looked away. This was going to be tough.