Nothing To Lose [A Teacher/Student Love Story]

Nothing To Lose [A Teacher/Student Love Story] 4

"Amanda! Answer the door!"

Grudgingly, I stood up from my cushioned swivel chair and ran downstairs to follow my mother's orders. It was amazing, actually, how my mother, who was on the phone with me, but not currently in the house, could hear the doorbell ring even though she was miles away, somewhere in Colorado. Let me tell you, her demands are worse over the phone.

I swung open the door and stopped, noticing the familiar twinkle of sapphire eyes and the spiky, dirty blond hair. Embarrassed, I was about the slam the door shut and run back upstairs to change out of my oversized yellow camisole and too-small black lounge pants I bought in 9th grade, but, judging that it was my Calculus teacher who stood in the doorway, simply snapped my open mouth shut and opened the door widely. I felt the urge to pull the elastic hair band out of my hair and shake my hair, making it more presentable, but figured that would be awkward.

"Hello, Ms. Montgomery," Mr. Stone greeted, the same, serene smile on his face he pasted on every morning for class.

"Hi," I responded awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably in my tiger paw slippers. I wanted to run upstairs and cover myself with a sweatshirt since the open door was bringing in the mid-September breeze, but also figured that would be rude.

I cleared my throat, then added politely, "Um, you can--you can come in, Mr. Stone."

He took that opportunity and marched straight into the living room and took a seat on the green-almost brown sofa as if invited.

"So, did you need anyth--" I began, but he cut me off, not to mention a little rudely.

"I'd need some tea, please," he replied, folding his hands over his lap. "Two teaspoons of sugar."

Before entering the kitchen, I jogged upstairs to my bedroom and held the phone to my ear. Mom must've been waiting for me to get back to the phone.

"Hey, Mom, I'm back," I muttered into the phone.

"Did you answer the door?" she inquired a little sternly.

"Yeah." I said. "I did."

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Um," I said, chewing on my lip. "It was the FedEx guy.."

"Did he bring a package?"

"It--it was the wrong number." then, realizing I said number, quickly corrected myself, "I mean--I mean it was the wrong house."

"Which house was he looking for?" Mom asked, kind of suspiciously. But, believe it or not, this was her normal self. Her normal, interrogating self.

"He was looking for," I paused, racking my brain for a last name. "for the Schlavics."

I could see her frowning on the other end.

"Are the Schlavics German or something, honey?"

"I--I think?" I said, not even knowing if Schlavic was a real last name.

"Alright then, well. What--"

"Mom, I gotta go," I finished quickly, hanging up before she could say something more. I definitely did not want to keep Mr. Stone waiting.

Once I was back downstairs, I found Mr. Stone sitting patiently, although bouncing his knee up and down in an impatient way.

"Is the kitchen upstairs, Amanda?" he questioned, lifting an eyebrow in curiousity.

"Um, no," I responded.

"Then why did you go?"

"Because I felt like it?" I said a little harshly. I mean, who was this guy, to march straight into my house, demand tea, then ask why I was in my room? This was my house, in case I forgot, and if I wanted to delay making his stupid tea, I can. I could even kick him out, if I wanted, but me, being my polited, positioned self, knew to be kind to my teacher, who should do the same to me.