Summertime Loving

Chapter 52

She blinked, frowning at her own thoughts. ‘Ew. No, I hated that clingy version of him. This version’s better. He's... dependable. I could get used to this,’  Jenny admitted to herself, a smirk curling on her lips.

Meanwhile, Travis grabbed his bag, ready to leave. As he descended the stairs, Debbie intercepted him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Be careful, okay? The last thing I want is to lose you," she whispered, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

Travis returned the embrace and nodded. "Don’t worry, Debbie. I'll be fine. I'll call you when I’m out," he reassured her, his tone steady.

She smiled, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Good. Have a nice day, sweetheart."

With a nod, he stepped outside, her warmth lingering in the air behind him.

As he made his way to school, Travis’s mind drifted. 'Today’s that French poem... Too bad I won’t finish it in time. But there’s always Monday,’  he mused, slipping into the building as the day began to unfold.

He didn’t feel like going to class yet, something about the third floor was pulling him in. As he wandered up, a familiar scene caught his eye—Roxxy, cornered by a group of teachers, getting a thorough scolding. Travis had forgotten all about that.

He didn’t bother eavesdropping; he already knew the story. Instead, he kept walking until he bumped into Coach Bridget coming from the other direction.

"Yo, Coach," he greeted casually.

Bridget flashed a wide grin when she saw him. "There’s my star athlete! You good, Travis?"

"Yeah, I’m alright. You?"

"I’ve got to go handle something quick, but you better show up to training later, alright?" she said, lightly tapping his shoulder as she jogged up the stairs.

He watched her disappear, the lingering energy of her words fueling a brief but sharp reminder—he needed to stay on top of everything, not just the French poem.

Travis stared at her ass , it jiggled heavenly which made him smile. He went to class and sat back.

' Today ,I don’t expect much to happen. It does matter though. '

Ms. Bissette entered the classroom, her usual no-nonsense attitude filling the room. She walked straight to her desk, placed her things down, and opened the register. The faint clicking of her pen was the only sound in the room as she marked off names, her eyes darting between the list and the students.

After a few minutes, she closed the register with a decisive snap and began the lesson. “Today, we’re diving into regional French dialects. These variations of the language hold deep cultural significance…” she started, her voice steady but authoritative.

For once, Travis decided to pay attention. Not that he really needed to. The concepts came to him quickly, the phrases and rules flowing through his mind as naturally as anything else. But still, something about today kept him focused. He nodded along as Ms. Bissette went on about the nuances between Parisian French and Quebecois.

Occasionally, she asked the class questions. Travis answered with ease, surprising even himself. He usually coasted through, but today felt different. He could see Ms. Bissette noticing his increased engagement, her eyes lingering on him a bit longer after each of his responses.

The class went by swiftly, filled with discussions of accents and regional variations that, to everyone else, seemed challenging. To Travis, it was just another thing he could master without much effort.

By the end of the lesson, Ms. Bissette gave a satisfied nod. "Good work today, class. I hope you’ve all learned something valuable. Travis, I’m impressed—keep it up."

He shrugged, flashing a subtle smile as the bell rang.

He lingered as the other students filed out, waiting until the room was empty before approaching her desk.

"So, how did it go?" Travis asked with a raised brow, his voice calm but laced with anticipation. Vivienne’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her smile growing wide as she practically leaped into his arms.

"It went so well, Travis! Je suis tellement heureuse —I’m so happy!" she exclaimed, her breathless excitement filling the room. "I will be keeping my job for as long as I want!" Her body pressed against his, her joy radiating through her embrace.

Travis grinned, feeling her warmth against him. "That’s great," he said, his voice dropping lower as his hands began to slide slowly down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. "Guess we still have those extra lessons, right?"

Vivienne pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her smile shifting from bright to sultry. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering near his ear as she whispered, "Of course... but you have to finish your next assignment first." Her fingers gently trailed up his chest, teasing him with every touch.

"And what’s that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued, his hand daring to slide lower on her back, inching toward dangerous territory.

Her gaze darkened with a seductive edge. "I need you to write a romantic poem... in French," she purred, her lips brushing his cheek before she straightened, slipping out of his embrace with graceful ease. "Go to the library, get yourself a French romance novel for inspiration. I want that poem on my desk by Monday... and you’ll perform it with a partner." Her eyes gleamed mischievously as she added, " D’accord, mon bébé ?"

He nodded, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slowly let her slide from his arms, placing her back onto the ground. "I better get going then. À plus tard, Vivienne," he said, his voice smooth and confident as he turned and walked out of the classroom.

Vivienne stood there, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. She watched him leave, her mind already wandering to the possibilities of how she might reward his success. The memory of his touch lingered on her skin, her body trembling with anticipation.

'I can’t wait,' she thought, biting her lip as she imagined the delicious tension building between them, her desire growing with every passing second.

Travis made his way to his next class, Science, only to find Ms. Okita waiting by the door, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she gestured for him to follow her.

“Uh, where are we going?” he asked, already sensing trouble brewing.

“Just come with me,” she replied, her tone firm yet oddly detached.

As they walked through the hall, Travis couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom.

' Man, I pray she doesn’t accidentally give me cancer, ' he thought, half-jokingly.

He glanced at her, trying to gauge her mood, but her eyes remained fixed ahead, the weight of an unspoken agenda hanging in the air between them.

' Damn '

TO BE CONTINUED