Illegal Love

~ Chapter 7 ~

"Mr. Brady has got to be the biggest pervert around," Gwen shakes her head as he checks out a girl's butt when we walk down the hallway. Mr. Brady is our U.S. History teacher and I swear to God he creeps me out so much. He looks eight months pregnant with triplets, always has huge sweat stains on his shirts and is really hairy. He always talks to me during class and calls on me to read and makes me pass out papers. I constantly catch him staring at my boobs and butt. He has touched my shoulder, hand, waist, stomach, and wrist. He touches other girls too, but not as much as me. He also calls me pretty, beautiful, etc. And everyone is starting to notice it too. People always stop me and say things like, "Mr. Brady always touches you, you might want to look out for yourself," or "Ewww, doesn't it creep you out when he touches you?" I have never told anyone about it, like my parents or another teacher or something, but if it gets worse then I think I'm going to. 

"I know he is. If he starts touching me more, then I'm telling a teacher or something about it," I say, as Gwen reaches in her locker and grabs her book. 

"Mr. Styles?" She says, with a smirk, slamming her locker. I shoot her a look and shake my head. But that actually wasn't such a bad idea... 

As if on cue, Mr. Styles walks down the hall. When he passes us, I wave and he gives me a cute little dimpled smile. I watch him as he continues down the hall. Then I turn back to Gwen and find her staring at me, giving me a look. 

"You totally like him, Gabby," she says, rolling her eyes. "No matter how much you say you don't, I know you always will." 

I sigh, knowing she's right. It was bad enough that I had a major crush on my teacher, but I was never actually going to admit it to her. I trust Gwen with everything, but I know if I tell anyone somehow it will get around and authority will find out and expel me or something. And how embarrassing would that be?! The girl who got expelled because she had a crush on her English teacher? It sounds so pathetic.  

"Ugh, I really don't want to go to history," I complain, thinking of Mr. Brady's hairy fingers on me. I shudder at the thought. Gwen bites her lip and rubs my back.  

"Gabriella," she starts and I know she's serious because she's using my actual name. "I really do think you should tell someone about it. Mr. Styles, your parents, anyone. But actually I think the best person to tell would be Mr. Styles because well, he kind of works with Mr. Brady and I feel like if you told your parents then it would be so much drama with the principal and you have to have a bunch of meetings. But Mr. Styles would be cool about it and I think he would take care of you," she says. This is one of the many reasons Gwen Anderson is my best friend.  

"Okay, I think you're right. Thanks Gwen, I love you," I say, giving her a slight squeeze. She smiles.  

"Love you too, Gabby," Gwen squeezes back and as we approach Mr. Brady's room, I feel my heart beating faster and my legs turning to jell-o. Being in his class gave me a lot of anxiety.  

I slowly walk in through the door way and he's in his usual spot. Mr. Brady is slouched down lazily in his huge chair. I swear he got there earlier then most students just so he could talk to me and check out what I was wearing that day. I purposely chose looser fitting clothes today, just so that he wouldn't be eyeing all my goods.  

I walk in and immediately, his eyes are on me. They trail from my feet to my head, lingering on my butt and boobs on their way up. I try to hide behind Gwen but it doesn't work too well.  

Once, I'm in my seat, right away, the creepiness starts. 

"Hey, Gabriella, will you come here please?" His deep voice says. It wasn't a nice deep voice, though. Not like Mr. Styles', oh God no. It was a creepy deep voice. And gross. 

I sigh and walk up to his desk. He gives me an ugly smirk and winks. 

"Hey, you're looking pretty gorgeous, like usual," Mr. Brady says. I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure of what to say. I give a weak smile, wanting nothing more than to leave this stupid classroom.  

"That's a compliment, you should say thank you," he says, smirking. That's fucking creepy, you should get fired, I want to say. 

"Thanks," I say, a little coldly and walk away. I know that if I'm snotty with him, he'll automatically give me a detention. Mr. Brady doesn't deal with attitude and God only knows what would happen if he was alone with me in detention.  

"Hey! Come back here, Gabriella! I'm not done with you yet!" He says, loudly, and a few kids turn to look at me. I feel myself blush with anger. It wasn't fair how he could say all this crap to me and I couldn't say anything back in return without getting myself into trouble! I reluctantly walk back and he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me down to him. 

"You didn't think you would get away that easy, did you?" he whispers in my ear and I shiver with disgust. His breath smelled like smoke and coffee.  

Out of nowhere, his hand finds my inner thigh. An alert goes off in my head, and it starts pounding. His rough fingers are slapped away by my soft ones. He looks up at me with a sorrowful face. 

"I-I'm sorry, Gabriella. That was a little uncalled for," he apologizes. Psh, right. I don't say anything and walk away.  

The bell rings and I take my seat. Class begins and Mr. Pervert walks up to the front of the class. He constantly looks at me and calls on me to read four times throughout the class. This is the worse it has ever been. I have to tell someone... 

***************************************** 

"Mr. Styles?" I gently tug on the end of the sleeve of his blazer. My fingers brush against his wrist and he leans in, offering his ear to me. He was being really nice today, the total opposite of yesterday when he moved my seat and yelled in my face. I think he felt kind of bad about it because I was still being nice to him. I waved to him in the hallway and everything.  

"Uh... Can I talk to you in the hallway about something?" I whisper quietly in his ear. He nods and I follow him out the door. Gwen gives me a questioning look and I mouth, "Mr. Brady," and she nods her head.  

Mr. Styles closes the door behind us, once we're out in the hall.  

"Is everything alright, Gabriella?" He asks, folding his arms, a concerned look crossing his face.  

"Not exactly," I sigh. I tell him everything about Mr. Brady. How he makes me feel creeped out, calling me pretty, touching me, staring at me, always calling on me. When I tell Mr. Styles about him touching my thigh, his eyebrows go up and he looks angry. Finally, I finish. 

"I just don't know what I should do, Mr. Styles," I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He looks worried and angry at the same time. 

"First of all, he absolutely has no right touching you in any of those places and calling you pretty. Thats why, when I um... called you beautiful in class, I told you not to take it the wrong way because I didn't want you to be freaked out by it. Second of all, it's completely inappropriate for him to be touching the inside of your thigh. That might even be filed under some sort of sexual harassment," Mr. Styles says, biting his bottom lip. His face flushes red with anger. He looks so sexy right now. 

"Are you going to tell the principal?" I ask. I really hope he doesn't. I don't want drama with the authority, like Gwen said.  

"I have to report it, if I don't I could lose my job. But don't worry, Gabriella, I'll keep a close eye on him for you, okay?" He answers, lightly touching my shoulder. I sigh, thinking over his answer. I guess that makes sense that he could get fired if he doesn't report it.  

"Alright," I say, slowly nodding my head. "And thanks for looking out for me," I add quietly, looking down at my feet. Mr. Styles smiles gently. 

"No problem," he says kindly. "But I'm not sure if authority will do anything about it, because technically he didn't actually molest you or something like that. He'll most likely get a warning." Mr. Styles runs his fingers through his hair. Hopefully I wasn't stressing him out. 

"Okay," I say, and he opens the door for me to go back into the classroom.