Falling In Love with Mr. Motherf**ker

Caught up

Clara's POV

The next day, I arrived at school with an unusual spring in my step. As I parked in front of the building, I spotted Amy waiting. "Wassup, baby!" I laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She eyed me, suspicious but playful. "Well, someone's in an oddly happy mood."

I shrugged, still smiling. "Guess I don't have to be grumpy and miserable every day."

Amy raised an eyebrow, but before she could reply, a familiar raspy voice sounded behind us.

"Good morning, ladies."

"Morning, Mr. James," Amy and I said in unison. I could feel my cheeks warming under his gaze.

Mark grinned, his tone light. "What's got you in such a cheery mood today?" His casual question made my heart skip, but I tried to play it cool.

"Oh, I went to a funeral yesterday," I replied dryly, earning a soft laugh from him.

Amy tilted her head, feigning concern. "Sounds like you buried your old self."

Mark chuckled at that. "See you in class," he called over his shoulder as he walked off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Amy's brow furrowed. "Alright, spill it," she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else was paying attention.

"Spill what?" I played dumb, but she wasn't buying it.

"Clara, I know you too well. What's going on between you and Mr. James?" she whispered, making it clear she wasn't letting this slide.

"Nothing, Amy. Seriously. We'll talk after class." I grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the building, trying to dodge her knowing look.

Inside, I realized the first two periods were with Mark. Great.

We shuffled into the classroom, where a group of students was already gathered, playing cards and chatting. A minute after the bell rang, Mark strode in, casual as ever.

"Alright, folks. Let's be real—studying is boring, so how about a movie? Any suggestions?" he asked, leaning back against the desk.

Amy shot me a sideways glance, but I ignored her, unlocking my phone under the table. I typed a quick message.

Me: How about you just play whatever you want and stop pretending we're all grown-ups?

His phone buzzed, and I watched as he checked it. A small smirk played on his lips.

"Okay, seems like no one's volunteering ideas. Let's just go with John Wick. I was a bit distracted the last time I watched it anyway," he said, casting a brief glance in my direction.

Amy's side-eye was now in full force.

Me: Distracted? What distracted you, Mr. James?

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Mark settled into his chair as the movie started, then pulled out his phone again.

Mark ❤️: Caught up in someone far more interesting than any movie. Beautiful, smart, and impossible to ignore.

My face heated up, and I fought the smile threatening to give me away.

Me: You're making me blush, sir.

Mark ❤️: Not yet, but I can.

I bit my lip harder.

Me: Stop texting and watch the movie, Mr. James.

Mark ❤️: I'm watching something far better than the movie.

Before I could respond, I felt movement behind me. Mark was suddenly standing at the back of the room. I stared forward, pretending not to notice, but I could feel the tension growing. Then, his hands lightly brushed my shoulders. It was subtle but enough to send a shiver down my spine.

He leaned in, his voice low but playful. "Oh, this is a good part," he murmured, right as an action sequence played out on screen.

Amy shifted in her seat, glancing back. Mark pulled away, flashing her a casual smile as he moved back to his desk. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Amy leaned over, her eyes wide. "Shut the hell up. Was that...?"

I put a finger to my lips, trying to calm her. "Shh, it's nothing."

"Nothing? That was full-on foreplay." She was whispering, but barely.

"You're seeing things," I muttered, still trying to maintain my composure.

Her eyes narrowed. "That hoodie isn't even yours, is it? I knew I recognized that cologne."

I sighed. "Fine. You win. Yes, it's his. And yes, something happened. But you cannot tell anyone."

Amy blinked, stunned. "You what? And you didn't tell me right away?"

"Once. It was once. And I couldn't tell you because, well, you know why. He could get fired, and I'd like to keep seeing him—preferably not on the street corner in a cardboard box."

Mark ❤️: How long did she know?
Me: 'Scuse me?
Mark ❤️: When did you tell Amy?
Me: You. Are. So. Dumb. I swear to god you should not be raising the next generation. I DIDN'T TELL HER. I even lied. But you mister... you just showed her live action.
Mark ❤️: But I thought that's what you were talking about in front of the school.
Me: Amazing. How about you ask me, because next time I may be chatting with some teacher.
Mark ❤️: What now?
Me: Nothing. And you should be happy I have amazing friends. And you have me.
Mark ❤️: I am the happiest to have you. Clean up my mess? Pretty please.
Me: Sure, but I feel like there's not much to clean up.

Amy's eyes widened as she processed that, but before she could respond, the bell rang. Break time. She grabbed my arm, her grip tight. "Locker rooms. Now."