𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 15: "𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔"

୨୧
France, Paris
Maraj home
O.T.M.
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The break after term two exams has been long, but it feels even longer when you’re waiting for something—or someone. I haven’t seen Mrs. Carter the entire time. And it’s not like we can just spend time at each other’s houses, acting like there’s nothing weird going on. She’s still my teacher, after all. And I’m still… me.

I’ve been thinking about her more than I should. I know that. I know it’s wrong, especially since I’ve been with Robyn this whole time. But the guilt started eating me alive. Robyn deserves better than me lying to her face about how I feel. It wasn’t fair to her, or to me, for that matter.

So, I broke it off. And it wasn’t easy. Robyn didn’t take it well, which only made me feel worse, but it had to be done. I told her we’d grown apart, that I needed space to figure myself out. But deep down, I know it’s because I’ve been thinking about someone else—someone I shouldn’t be thinking about.

I’ve tried to distract myself. I even scrolled through Ivy’s Instagram, trying to avoid that pit of jealousy that stabs at my gut whenever I see her hanging out with her dad and boyfriend. They went on vacation without Mrs. Carter, though. That’s what caught my attention. No sign of her anywhere on the feed, which is unusual. Maybe she’s divorcing Mr. Carter? I don’t know. It’s just a thought.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I checked Mr. Carter’s Instagram too. Not that I follow him or anything, but it’s public, so why not? His posts are mostly about his alcohol brand, motivational quotes, and Ivy. The only picture of him and Mrs. Carter is from way back when—her hair was a different color, darker, and her smile didn’t seem as forced as it does now. That image has stuck with me, though I’m not sure why.

Maybe it was stupid, but I wanted to reach out to her. Not as her student, but as…someone who cares. Someone who’s been thinking about her nonstop. But I couldn’t just ask for her number out of nowhere, could I?

I did it anyway.

I texted Ivy. Casual, you know? Asked if she could give me her mom’s number because I had some math stuff I couldn’t figure out. It was a weak excuse, but Ivy didn’t question it. She sent me Mrs. Carter’s number within minutes, probably glad someone else would be asking her for math help besides herself.

With the number staring at me on my screen, I felt a rush of excitement and nerves, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. This was real. I was really about to text her, and the thought made my heart race. What would she think? What if she ignored me? What if she blocked me?

But I couldn’t back out now.

I typed out a simple message, not wanting to seem too eager:

__________

: Hey, it’s Onika. I got your number from Ivy. I hope that’s okay. I had a few math problems I was struggling with and thought I’d reach out. Hope you’re doing well.
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I stared at the message for a long minute before pressing send. Immediately, I regretted it. What if she thought it was inappropriate? What if I was crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed?

The minutes ticked by, and every second that passed felt like an hour. But then, my phone buzzed, and I practically jumped out of my skin.

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Mrs. Carter: Hey, sweetheart. Of course, it’s okay. I’m happy to hear from you. I’ve missed our little talks in class. How have you been?
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