Hooked ~A Student/Teacher Love Story~

Chapter 6

So I guess nobody likes my story. -_-''  Oh well.  At least I still have my Quizilla fans. TT~TT  

Anyway, if you are reading, thanks for the support. :)

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The next day, I felt so much better.  The weight on my chest that usually lingered had disappeared entirely overnight.  Talking to Mr. Donnals had done wonders.  I really wished there was some way I could repay him, but I couldn’t think of anything I could do.  Having a debt that big made me feel a bit guilty, but he didn’t mention it, so I tried not to worry too much.

But trying wasn’t enough. 

 Several days after Gerard had helped me out of my pit of despair, I asked Evan what he’d do for someone who helped him out big time, how he’d repay a not-so simple favor like the one my neighbor had done for me.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I guess I’d just offer to help in little ways as much as I could. The small things pile up quickly. That should be enough for them.”

“Him,” I corrected Evan instinctively.  The grin on his face made me regret it.

“Oh, it’s a boy? That makes it simpler.”  Evan leaned back in his chair and rested his arms behind his head.  “Make out with him,” he said. “Debt repaid.”

I blushed horribly.  “Evan Lee Pearce, if we weren’t in class right now, I would slap you.”

My best friend’s smirk grew.  “That would be why I said it while I still have the protection of good old Mr. Donnals.”

You know the saying, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear?”

Well, the devil appeared.

“How’s it going, kid? Getting your work done?” our teacher asked, glancing at our papers.

“Yessir. I’m on the sixth chapter at home,” bragged Evan.  I could swear that boy would be the next Stephen King.  He could crank out books as fast as he could breathe.

“Working ahead? I like it.” Mr. Donnals turned to me, expectantly. “And you, Stella? I hear you’re an excellent writer. How’s your story coming along?”

I squirmed in my seat.  “Actually, I… I’m still stuck on the third page.”

Evan and Gerard gaped at me.

“The third page? Are you sure you don’t mean third chapter?” asked Nave in disbelief.  He looked as if he’d just been informed that pigs could indeed fly.

“I know it’s bad. I’ll get it done. It's just... I have writer’s block! I can’t think of anything.”  A blush dusted across my cheeks.  I hated admitting this type of thing, especially to a teacher.

“Thirty pages are due by next week,” the attractive English teacher reminded me.