Illegal Love

~ Chapter 8 ~

*a week later* 

"I don't wanna go in there," I sulk. Gwen and I were standing outside of room 134. Also known as Mr. Brady's room.  

I was so afraid to see him. Mr. Styles told me that he reported everything to the principal. Authority could only tell him to knock it off, because, like Mr. Styles said, he didn't actually rape me. They said if it continues, he will be fired though. 

What I'm afraid of is that he's going to be mean to me. He's probably angry about me telling on him! I think he's going to give me a hard time in school and yell at me all the time. He's one of those teachers. 

"C'mon, Gabby! He won't do anything!" She says, pulling my arm. I sigh and allow her to drag me into the classroom. 

I don't make eye contact with Mr. Brady and quickly slide into my seat. Hopefully he hasn't noticed me in his class yet.  

Tough luck. 

"Uh, Gabriella, come to my desk." 

I wince and make my way over to him. He's sipping on a diet coke and when I approach him, he looks at me with beady eyes. 

"You have a quiz to make up for me?" He asks, rather coldly. I have no idea what he's talking about. 

"What quiz?" I ask. He makes a face making me feel stupid. 

"We had a quiz on Monday. It's now Friday. When are you going to make it up?" Mr. Brady says, setting down his can and folding his arms. I was 99.9% sure we never had a quiz on Monday. I was here on Monday so how could I have ever missed it?  

I was going to tell him I still didn't know what he was talking about and that we never had a quiz on Monday, but when I open my mouth, he shoots me the dirtiest look ever.  

"You'll make it up today. Right after school. Meet me in my room," he says, turning away. 

"But I have tutoring with Mr. Styles," I say feeling small. He slowly turns his head and I can tell he's angry by the way his eyebrows are knit together. 

"Mr. Styles," he says, mocking my tone, "can wait," he finishes. I don't say anything and walk back to my desk.  

I was so angry. How unprofessional and immature could he be? Mimicking a student? And we didn't even have a test!  

Suddenly, I feel really scared. Mr. Brady and I were going to be in a room alone. Alone. And he was mad at me. What was he planning...? 

I take my seat. Gwen gives me a concerned look and I bite my lip. I mouth to her, "Tell you later." She nods.  

The bell rings and Mr. Brady gets his lazy butt up from his chair. He walks to the front of the class and starts his lesson. I don't even listen. How was I supposed to focus with the thought of Mr. Brady alone with me? What was I going to do?  

All through his lesson, Mr. Brady doesn't even look at me. I was actually more than fine with that.  

Suddenly I hear a knock on the door. In walk Mrs. Gommer, Mr. Hamilton, Ms. Hilton, and no other than Mr. Styles. Mr. Styles looks like a spring chicken compared to the others. They were all old grumps.  

"We need to use your room, John," Ms. Hilton says, matter-of-factly. Mr. Brady looks confused. 

"Er, why?" He asks, slowly coming closer to them. Mr. Styles scans the room and when our eyes meet, he gives me one of his warm smiles. I feel comfort from his presence and grin back, but when Mr. Brady sees us he throws Mr. Styles a dagger.  

"The faculty room had a sign on it that nobody could use it. We asked the office about it and they said to just use your room since you have empty seating because they have to check out the teachers lounge," Mr. Hamilton says in his grandpa voice. Mr. Brady sighs.