Forbidden Lust

12 ❦ it's all a game to me, anyway

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"I'm leaving," I announced abruptly, facing Mr. Voss with a mixture of determination and unease.

Mr. Voss looked at me, a raised eyebrow hinting at curiosity and concern. "Already?" he responded, his tone holding a touch of surprise.

I nodded, attempting to maintain composure despite the storm of emotions inside me. As much as I appreciated Mr. Voss's support, recent events had left me feeling embarrassed and awkward in his presence.

"Yes, I'm feeling better now. I think it's time for me to go. But thank you for everything, sir," I replied, genuine gratitude laced with a tinge of reluctance.

"Alright then, if that's what you want. I'll see you on Monday at school," he acknowledged with a small smile.

Returning his smile with a forced one of my own, I turned towards the door, avoiding eye contact, unsure of what his reaction might be. The events of the past few hours had left me feeling vulnerable and conflicted. Hastily, I opened the door and hurried across the street, feeling Mr. Voss's gaze lingering on me before he closed his door once more.

In my mind, leaving felt like the right decision. I had to distance myself, to resist the pull of my inappropriate feelings towards him.

Upon entering my house, I found my mother seated on the couch with a glass of red wine, as usual. Her slurred words cut through the air, "Where have you been? And whose clothes are you wearing?"

I defensively crossed my arms, the fabric of Mr. Voss's shirt against my skin, still carrying his lingering scent. I contemplated responding but chose silence, unwilling to admit that I had been at my teacher's house next door.

With a sigh, I swiftly ascended the stairs to my room, locking myself in, hoping to avoid any confrontation. From my refuge, I could hear my mother's inebriated ramblings from downstairs.

After neatly placing my borrowed clothes in the washing room, I resolved to return them to Mr. Voss at a more appropriate time.

Following a refreshing shower, I changed into my pajamas and sought dinner, having skipped it earlier in the day. Finally, I retreated to my room, where I drifted into slumber, preparing for the new day ahead.

The following morning, raindrops slid off the edges of my umbrella as I made my way to school. Washington's perpetual rain was a comfort to me, a familiar embrace.

Dressed in a navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater paired with a black skirt and Mary Janes, my hair styled in soft curls with curtain bangs, I made an effort to present my best self.

Upon reaching school, I strolled across the campus. Occasionally, I noticed admiring glances from boys, acknowledging that they appreciated what they saw. Despite my own insecurities, thick thighs and stretch marks I reminded myself that I was beautiful in my unique way.

As I navigated the school hallways, I spotted Mr. Voss unlocking the classroom door. I tended to arrive early out of fear of being late. Mr. Voss recognized my dedication to academics and likely knew about my secret crush on him.

Attempting to push away the memory of my awkward outburst yesterday, I approached Mr. Voss quietly, hoping to make amends.

"Good morning," I greeted him softly, observing his serious expression as he turned to face me.

"Good morning. You're always early," he remarked, his tone serious.

Playing with a strand of my hair, I stepped closer. "Yes, extra early today because I wanted to talk about yesterday and how..." I began, but he interrupted me, his tone firm.

"Miss Hayes, it's too early for this," he interjected, his expression unreadable.

I lowered my shoulders, pouting slightly. "It's never too early, Mr. Voss."

Leaning against the desk, he sighed. There was a moment of tense silence, his furrowed brow indicating annoyance. But I was determined to express myself.

"I think you're a great teacher, maybe the only person who has taken me seriously in all these years. I don't want to ruin that, I don't want things to change just because of what happened between us. I certainly don't want it to get awkward because I never intended for that to happen. I can't control my feelings, and I'm sorry for thinking anything more. I understand if you think I have no feelings, and you hurt me..."

"Okay, but I'm just gonna stop you right there, Angelina. Because I didn't hurt you; I just told you the truth, and you can't seem to accept it."

Tears continued to flow down my face as I struggled to find words, overwhelmed with regret and self-doubt. "I know, y-you're right, sir," I managed to say, my voice trembling. "I'm just... I'm so, so sorry. I'm a stupid girl; I should never have said all those words. I should've never acted like this was going to work out. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Mr. Voss observed me, his face softening. After a few moments, he uncrossed his arms and moved closer. "It's okay. I know you're sorry, and I accept your apology," he said gently. "But don't ever think you're stupid or believe there's something wrong with you. You should never degrade yourself like that."

He cupped my face with his hand, wiping away my tears with his thumb. "You're young, going through a hard time, and you don't have anyone but yourself. I just happen to be the only one who gives you the slightest attention," he continued, his tone understanding. "You don't know any better."

Overwhelmed, I broke down and sobbed, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. He embraced me in a comforting hug, stroking my soft hair with a gentle, warm touch. It was all too much for me to bear. Sometimes, I wished I could disappear, escape to a place where nothing else mattered, where I had no worries or pain. For me, he represented that place, that person who allowed me to forget everything for a while.