The Teacher Next-Door

Chapter Thirteen

I was finally home from school—It had been another exhausting day. Thankfully, I had no other obligations and was going to have the most intense self-care night of my life. Skincare and watching Sex and The City? Yes, please.

I was already wearing my Victoria's Secret pajamas, ready for the relaxing, cozy night ahead of me.

That was until I was rudely interrupted, by you guessed it, good ol' Jennifer Wilson.

"Mary?" Her voice was muffled by the door. "You're late!"

I was sprawled across my bed, my hands now covering my face. "What could I possibly be late to?" I groaned.

My mom opened the door. Her red hair was styled into loose-ringlet curls, she had a full-face of glam painted on, and a black spaghetti-strap dress was hugging her curvy frame. Although we hadn't been on the best of terms lately, I couldn't deny that my mother was stunning. It was hard not to be jealous of her beauty.

"Where are you going?" I asked, now sitting criss-cross on my bed.

She acted oblivious as to why I was asking her a very valid question. "What do you mean? These are my lounging clothes." I rolled my eyes at her blatant lie. "Anyway, you're late for work, honey."

"Work? I don't have a job." I stated.

"Yes, you do. Maintaining Michael's property? He sent me a text asking where you were. Your friends are there waiting for you." She argued, placing her hands on her hips.

I glared at her. "I thought you two were done talking."

She waved me off. "We are not talking, Mary. He's too young for me, remember? I need to find someone my own age apparently."

Oop. There it was. I knew she wasn't going to let that slide.

"Am I wrong? He's practically my age, so it's kind of weird, Mom."

She put a hand to her chest, seeming deeply offended that I said something logical. "I am not having this discussion with you, Mary. Now, get out of those pajamas and get your ass over to that mansion!" She slammed the door before I could utter another word.

I sat in silence, contemplating one, how dramatic my mother was, and two, why I agreed to maintain Professor Jackson's property. At first, the idea of it was appealing. My friends and I, all spending time together in that gorgeous, luxurious estate. We would probably be goofing off the entire time, barely getting anything done, but still getting paid. It sounded too good to be true... and it was. Things were weird between Professor Jackson and I, so it felt strange to continue to work for him.

I rubbed my face with my hands and let out an exasperated sigh. Well, it was time to get to work, I guess.

I quickly changed out of my pajamas and threw on a hoodie and some ripped jeans from Aeropostale. I finished the look with my white Vans and of course, my hair was tied up messily. Then, I snatched my keys off of my dresser and ran downstairs. My mom was already waiting by the front door, twirling her car keys in her hand and smiling at me.

"Ready?"

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Yes... are you driving me?"

"I am." She stated.

That's when it clicked. She was dressed up and driving me because she wanted to see Professor Jackson. She thought she was going to blow him away with her "lounging clothes", which was undoubtedly going to work. Gross.

"Fine." I mumbled, brushing past her and making my way to her Range Rover.

She followed behind me, her heels clicking on the pavement. I rushed to the passenger side, just wanting tonight to be over with so I could watch Sex and The City.