My Teacher and I

Chapter Twelve

The wind picked up, swirling around me as I sat in the field, lost in my thoughts. I tried to push the memories of Mathew out of my mind, but they kept flooding back. Every look, every touch, every moment we shared—it all haunted me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the ache in my chest only deepened.

I didn't know how long I stayed there. It felt like time was passing in a blur, the hours slipping away unnoticed. Eventually, my phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my daze. I pulled it out, expecting a text from my parents or a friend, but it was just a notification from school. I sighed and tossed the phone back into my bag.

I couldn't avoid reality forever. Eventually, I'd have to go back, face him, deal with the awkward stares and unanswered questions. But today wasn't that day.

A part of me felt guilty for skipping. My parents always said I needed to stay focused on school, especially if I wanted to get out of this town one day. But today wasn't about grades or homework. It was about figuring out how to pick up the pieces of my heart.

The thought of Athens crossed my mind again. How was I going to handle that trip? Being around Mathew every day, pretending like I wasn't completely wrecked inside? My stomach twisted at the thought. It wasn't just a regular class trip; it was going to be intense, and I knew I couldn't hide how I felt forever.

My phone buzzed again, this time a text from Lilliarna.

Lilliarna: "Hey, where are you? You missed art, everything okay?"

I stared at the screen, debating whether to tell her the truth. Lilliarna was one of the few people who really knew me, but even she didn't know about Mathew. No one did. I couldn't risk anyone finding out—it would cause too many problems. But she was my best friend, and maybe talking to her would help.

I typed a quick reply.

Me: "Needed some air, feeling kinda off. I'll explain later."

I hit send and leaned back, letting out a shaky breath. Talking to her might help, but I wasn't ready to spill everything yet. Not until I figured out what to do.

I stood up, brushing off the grass from my pants, and made my way back to the car. The drive home felt just as empty as before, my thoughts still spinning, but at least I was starting to make sense of some of it. I couldn't let Mathew control how I felt—he had made his choice, and now I had to make mine.

When I got home, the house was quiet. My parents were both still at work, and my brother was probably at his friend's house. I headed straight to my room, tossing my bag onto the floor and collapsing onto the bed. The familiar comfort of my room made me feel slightly better, but not by much.

I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the next few days. I had to figure out how to move forward, how to protect myself from getting hurt even more. Maybe the best thing to do was distance myself from Mathew altogether. Keep things strictly professional in class, and avoid him outside of it.

Easier said than done.

I grabbed my sketchbook from the side table and flipped to a blank page. Drawing always helped clear my mind, and right now, I needed all the clarity I could get. My pencil started moving across the page, sketching lines that soon turned into a familiar face—Mathew's face.

I sighed, frustrated at myself for still being so wrapped up in him. But I couldn't help it. Even now, after everything, a part of me still wanted him. Still cared about him.

I didn't know how to turn that off.

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, signalling that someone was home. I quickly closed my sketchbook and shoved it under my pillow. The last thing I needed was my family asking questions I wasn't ready to answer.

Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow I'd be able to face Mathew with my head held high, and maybe—just maybe—I'd start to feel like myself again. But for now, I just wanted the world to slow down.

The next morning, the blare of my alarm barely registered as I turned over in bed. I cracked one eye open, groaning when I saw the time: 8:40 AM.

I was late—again.

I sat up in bed, my head pounding, the weight of everything from the day before still heavy on me. I knew I should've gotten up earlier, but after everything with Mathew, I couldn't bring myself to care about school, much less Greek class.

Without much thought, I threw on the nearest clothes I could find. My uniform was wrinkled from being shoved in a drawer, but I didn't care. My tie was crooked, and I didn't bother to fix it. I grabbed my backpack and stumbled out the door, my mind still foggy with sleep and stress.

The drive to school was a blur. I barely noticed the cars around me or the people walking into the building as I parked and made my way toward the classroom. All I could think about was how I was going to face him—Mathew.

It didn't matter anymore, I told myself. I had to shut down my emotions, keep it together. Whatever happened between us was in the past, and I couldn't let it affect me any longer. I had to focus on getting through the day.

By the time I reached the classroom door, I was ten minutes late. I hesitated for a second, my hand hovering over the handle. I knew Mathew would be there, sitting behind his desk, watching the door.

But I couldn't avoid him forever.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. As expected, all eyes turned toward me, including Mathew's. I didn't make eye contact with him, though. I just kept my head down and walked to my seat, ignoring the awkward silence that had filled the room when I entered.

"Mr. Affleck, late again," Mathew said, his voice steady but with a hint of something else I couldn't place.

I shrugged, not bothering to respond. I dropped into my seat, staring straight ahead, trying to act like I wasn't affected by his presence. Emotionless, I reminded myself. Keep it together. I was going to get through this day if it killed me.

The lesson went on, but I wasn't really listening. My thoughts kept drifting, bouncing between frustration and regret. Mathew was up there, teaching like nothing had happened, like we hadn't shared something personal just days ago. It was maddening.

At some point, I zoned out entirely, doodling in the margins of my notebook. My focus was nowhere near Greek class; it was still stuck on him, on the confusing mess of feelings I couldn't shake off no matter how hard I tried.

The bell rang, startling me. I hadn't realized how much time had passed. Everyone started packing up, and I slowly did the same, still avoiding Mathew's gaze. I didn't want to be the last person in the room, so I quickly threw my things into my bag and made my way to the door.

But before I could leave, I heard his voice.

"Atticus, stay for a moment."