"Y/N," I glance up from my desk, meeting the teacher's eyes. "Were you listening?" I nod slowly. "Yes..." I reply hesitantly. "Alright, what's the answer then?" He points at the board, curiosity in his expression. "Seven?" I hear soft chuckles from my classmates. He sighs. "Not quite."
"It's twelve," a voice calls out confidently from across the room. I turn my head to find Shauna Shipman, the only person who isn't laughing at me.
Impressed by Shauna's quick response, the teacher nods "Well done, Shauna". He turns his attention to me with a disappointed expression, "Y/N, I expected better from you. Detention for not paying attention during class." A sigh escapes my lips, and I feel a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
As the bell rings, signaling the end of the class, I find myself seeking a moment of solitude in an old janitor's closet, now abandoned. Throwing my bag on the floor, I settle down, leaning against the wall with a sigh. With a free period ahead, I decide to spend some time here. I take out a lighter from my bag and ignite it, mesmerized by the dancing flame.
Just then, the door creaks open, and I glance up to find Shauna standing there. "What are you doing?" she inquires curiously. "Not much," I mumble in response. Without hesitation, she joins me, observing the flame.
"That's a fire hazard," she remarks, expressing concern.
"No one will know," I respond, clicking the lighter off and looking at her.
"Unless you plan on telling anyone," I add with a slight smirk. Shauna shakes her head. "But I will do one thing."
"Yeah? What's that?" I inquire, furrowing my brow.
As our eyes lock, Shauna leans in, bringing our lips so close they're almost touching. "This," she whispers, and then our lips finally connect in a daring kiss.
She slightly opens her mouth, and I reciprocate by gently sliding my tongue into her mouth. A soft moan escapes her, and she starts to use her tongue to engage in a fight for dominance.
Shauna positions herself on my lap, straddling my thighs. With a subtle movement, she sways her hips up and down in a slow rhythm while continuing to kiss me.
My hands gently find their way to her waist, slipping under her shirt, and a soft moan escapes her lips in response to my touch. With a lingering touch, my palms glide further up her shirt, brushing against her breast.
Breaking the intensity of the moment, I whisper, "Is this okay?" She responds, her voice slightly trembling, "Yeah," giving me consent to continue.
