Hooked ~A Student/Teacher Love Story~

Chapter 2

So here's Chapter 2.  Sorry it's so short; I just wanted to cut it off for some suspense, so.... yeah.

By the way, Chace Crawford is playing Mr. Donnals.  I <3 him.  ^ ^  So that's the pic to the right. 

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“So? How was he?” asked Bethany first thing after school.

“Hello to you, too. I’m fine, Beth, thanks for asking,” I replied, stuffing my notebook and planner into my messenger bag.  My best friend shut my locker before I could grab my book.  I gave her a flat, sour glare, and started re-entering my combination.

“Come on, Stella. He’s hot, right?” Would she never give up?

“I guess,” I admitted.

“I told you so! You like him, don’t you? You’ve already fallen fast and hard for his dashing good looks and wonderful sense of humor!”

“Talking about me again, Bethany?” came Evan’s voice from behind me. “Really, you’ve got to get over me. We’re just not meant to be.”

“That’s why I love you, Evan. You’re so humble despite your overpowering awesomeness,” said Bethany, sarcasm dripping from her words. Beth and Evan were friends through me, but they butted heads a lot.  I always saw it as a dominance struggle --- they each wanted to be the better friend to me.  It was aggravating most of the time --- I wished they would just kiss and get along already --- but still managed to be flattering, and, dare I say it, downright adorable.

“Did your mom drop you off or did you drive yourself, Stell?” asked Evan, disregarding Bethany’s comment about his non-existent modesty.  Modesty may not be his forte, but you can't say he's not forgiving.

“I got a ride from Mom,” I responded, shifting the strap on my shoulder and standing. “Are you offering?”

“No, I’ll make you walk ten miles.” The senior rolled his eyes.  “Honestly, Stella, I don’t see how a genius like you can ask the dumbest questions.”

“Shut your face, Nave. You’re just as bad and you know it,” I retorted.  “Need I bring up the ketchup incident?”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied quickly, his eyes flickering nervously between my menacing smirk and Bethany’s legendary big mouth.  My friend, recognizing the potential for gossip and/or blackmail, grinned slyly and asked in her most innocent voice, “What ketchup incident?”

“Oh, look at the time! We really should be going!” proclaimed Evan loudly, leading me toward the door.  I waved to Beth and followed Evan to his car, pleased with myself.

We crossed the teacher parking lot on the way to Evan’s turd-brown clunker, aptly dubbed “Reefer Brownie” by all his friends.  To my dismay, Mr. Donnals spotted us while getting into his impressive black Porsche.  He waved at us, calling  “Bye, Stella!” Embarrassed, I returned the wave.  Evan rolled his eyes and made a gagging noise.

“Tch. What a douche. He totally ignored me,” Nave complained.

“He probably doesn’t remember your name and doesn’t want to look like an idiot,” I told him, almost protectively.  Good grief.  What was I getting myself into?

“Looking like an idiot’s better than looking like a dick,” Evan replied. “And why does he remember your name and not mine? It’s not like you drew a lot of attention to yourself or anything.”

“Maybe it’s because I have two classes with him,” I snapped, shooting Evan a vengeful glare.  He always goaded me about my shyness, and it was grating on my nerves. 

Evan caught the harshness in my voice and bit his lip, falling into silence.  Internally, I smirked.  Who’s the douche now? I thought, and then regretted it.  He was just being himself, urging me to get out there and make friends.  Though I never complained or even mentioned it to him, he knew that I was secretly jealous of his charisma, his ability to just attract and entice crowds of people.  That’s why he tried to get me to hang out with he and his friends and bugged me to be bolder.  He just didn’t want me to be lonely. 

I slipped into the passenger seat of the Reefer Brownie, mentally hating myself for being so insensitive toward my best friend, and then closed my eyes.  Mayday Parade blared over the speakers, and I listened to it quietly all the way home. 

A couple songs later, we pulled into the driveway.  Evan broke the awkward silence by inviting me to stay until my parents got home, but I declined.  I needed to relax and get lost in a book for a while.

“Okay,” said Evan, uneasily. He obviously thought I was mad at him. “See ya tomorrow, I guess.” I bid him farewell and headed across the street to my huge, empty house.  Hours later (though it felt like minutes to me, with my reading), a knock came on my door.  My mother poked her head into my room and smiled at me. “Dinner’s ready, hun.”

“Coming,” I replied, sliding the bookmark in my place and pursued her downstairs.  I glanced out the window on my way and noted a moving truck outside the house next door.  A car pulled into the garage, but I couldn’t tell in the dark what color or make it was.  Or any of the occupants, for that matter. 

“We have new neighbors?” I asked Mom.

“Looks that way,” she said from the kitchen.  I took a seat at the dining room table as she emerged from behind the bar with a Wal-Mart-bought roast chicken and a bowl of steaming green beans.  I shoveled small portions onto my plate and started to chow down.  Skipping lunch had taken its toll.  Thanks a ton, Bethany.

“I haven’t met them yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mom continued, taking the other drumstick for herself.

“Dad coming home late again?” I asked, noting the vacant seat across from me.  Mom hadn’t even bothered to make it up, so he wasn’t just going to be a few minutes.

My mother nodded, sadness filling her green eyes.  Dad worked as a high-ranking executive for his company, so he toiled whenever necessary and went wherever his superiors told him to.  This being the case, we didn’t see him very often.  If he came home at all, it was rarely before ten or eleven o’clock, and he used most of his vacation days in the summer.  During the school year, Mom and I felt pretty alone.

Out of nowhere came a knock on the door.  I finished my last bite of green beans and went to answer it.

Is it rude to gape at someone who comes to your door when you least expect it?  If so, I probably should’ve apologized to Mr. Donnals.

My English teacher smiled at me, surprise registering on his face.

“Hi, Stella. Long time no see.”