My Hot English Teacher Loves Me...He Loves Me Not [1]

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~I know, I know, this is like my third story. No, I'm not changing my writing style, just trying something different out. This part will most likely be short and kinda lame so bear with me. Other than that, read it up, comment it, vote if you feel inclined, and ENJOY!!~

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"And that concludes class for today," Mr.Miller said, as I glared at him from the back of the room. Students lazily shuffled out of the classroom, so I grabbed my tote bag off of the floor and made my way around the rows of desks in the vacant room.

I was just on my way to the door, to freedom, from this absolutely horrible dictatorship that they call "English Class," when I heard a call from the front of the room. "Ms. Campbell? Would you care to explain this?" Mr. Miller asked, holding up my latest book review.

"Care to explain what?" I asked sweetly, all the while thinking 'What does this asshole want?'

"Hmm.." he said, putting on an amused face. He was sitting on the tip of the desk, hands clasped over one knee, hunched, thinking he was so cool. *Give me a break,* I thought. *You're nearly thirty.*

At that moment, he cleared his throat and said, "'Dracula, a cunning and gripping novel by the late author, Bram Stoker is-'". He began to laugh, putting an end to the cruel mockery he was making of my paper, the paper I had spent a whole night correcting. Sure, it wasn't the best, but I thought I had done pretty damn good.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, gritting my teeth and making sure to put an irritated edge to my voice.

His laughing stopped and he gave me a wide grin. "Well nothing," he said shrugging and getting off of the desk. "But this isn't supposed to sound like a dedicated die-hard Dracula fan. This is a high school-college level analysis," he said, taking a step toward me.

"Well," I said, pulling out my cell phone. "Would you care to tell me where the specific error was made? Because I'm pretty sure I followed every detail on the outline and-."

"Amy, Amy, Amy. Come on. The outline?" He ran his hand through his hair and said, ever so dramatically, "Do you have no creativity? No imagination? The outline is a starting point - An arrow, leading you in the right direction, not a life support," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders.

I tensed. *What the hell does this dumbass think he's doing?* I slowly shrugged them off and said, wondering why the hell he was making such a big deal out of it, "Excuse me, sir, but I have a Physics class in two minutes, so I have to get going."

He awkwardly placed his hands in his pockets and said, "Fine. Fair enough." He went back to his desk, and then turned suddenly, probably finding another way to waste my time. "But I'm not going to accept this, Amy," he said, carelessly flinging the second paper I had worked on this month to the floor.

I clenched my purse angrily and mocked, "Fine. Fair enough. And my name is Amethyst. Just Amethyst, " I said, whirling around and heading out the door. I heard a snicker as I left. Bitch.

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Later that day, I came out of P.E. class. Yeah, I know, lucky to have P.E. at the end of the day, right? I pulled down the small burgindy shirt that had 'Roosevelt Ravens' written in big white letters across the chest. I had on matching white shorts with the same thing written in burgundy letters on the right leg. Tacky school uniform.

I let my hair out of the tight ponytail it was in and let it fall in loose black curls onto my shoulders. I sighed. Man it was really hot. The sun scorched down on me and spread it golden rays over Roosevelt High School. I dug into my backpack for a water bottle I had packed earlier this morning. I found it and made my way over to the biggest tree on the west field. I always rested at 'The Big Tree', what I had grown to nickname it.

Today was no different. I flopped down on the grass and made myself comfortable, occasionally taking a sip of water. I looked across the field and saw I had a pretty good view of the school soccer team. *Oh God, they have their shirts off,* I thought. Most were kind of thin and lean, but others were all muscle. What a sight.

I couldn't really see anything, so I dug into my backpack for my glassed. I know, I'm such a pervert. But being a nerd is a benefit sometimes. You can do basically anything you want, still being completely unnoticed. My invisibility is a blessing, not a curse. I slowly put on my glasses and my blurry vision became clear.

Yup, nice, ripped abs and sun touched skin. Wow. I sat up a little by the tree as I saw them all waiting around the grass for the coach to come. I hoped he never did.

But wishing gets you no where. I heard footsteps behind me and jumped as a pair of shiny red and white Nike T-90 cleats approached. I looked up slowly as a pair of very built calves and tanned legs appeared. I looked even higher and saw a pair of burgundy shorts with the words 'Raven's Staff' in white and a white shirt with the same thing printed in burgundy. Oh crap. I saw that even with a huge pair of sunglasses with a gold snake on each side. He had a black whistle neatly around his neck, and his hands on his sides. He removed the sun glasses and revealed a pair of glassy hazel eyes and slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"Ms. Campbell, why are you spying on my soccer team?" Mr. Miller asked.

Oh shit.

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