The Teacher's Pet

Chapter 1

"Do you know what material this is?" I ask gripping Erica's shirt and bringing it to my nose. The scent of her cheap Ed Hardy imitation perfume was strangely comforting.

"This is boyfriend material," I say in a pathetic attempt to flirt as I bury my face in her chest and giggle like a little girl.

Somewhere in the distance I hear someone say I've had enough to drink. They are wrong though. I'm not drunk. I can still go on. I can still keep drinking. I ain't no wuss. I--

"Girl, you're slurring. I can't understand a thing you are saying."

"I said that Danny always said that to meee! He lied! They both lied. All men are mentirosos! Plaid is not even boyfriend material!"

*A/N: mentirosos --》 liars *

"Okay, now you aren't even making sense." Delilah, Dee for short, leans towards me. I think she wants to give me a hug. How nice of her. I could use a hug right now. No wait, she's looking at my bottle.

" No, Dee! Give me one more." My arms reach to take the bottle that she is taking from me but a strong grip stops me. Its Erica.

" Mercy, you said one more 4 shots ago. That's it for-- OH HELL NO! If you are going to throw up my f*cking spaghetti, do it in the restroom not on my shirt!"

Uh-oh. Too late.

"You damn drunkard!" Was the last thing I heard before I blacked out on my childhood friend Erica's gray rug.

***

It's not surprising to wake up to a throbbing headache the day after drinking so heavily. It is surprising to wake up to sexy, half naked strippers...oh wait that's just Magic Mike and the crew.

"Ow," I mutter as I sit up from where I passed out last night. I feel like I slept on rocks. Meanwhile, Erica is sprawled on her couch with a bin of popcorn between her legs. She points at a tall glass of water on her black coffee table.

"Drink that sh*t," she says without taking her eyes off the tv.

Crap, she's pissed. Of course she would be. I come to her place without notice, luggage in hand, already half drunk, and keep drinking til I throw up and pass out. And that's not all. At the beginning I was yelling at the tv demanding it let go of the tiny people it had captured. It didn't help that I was shaking the tv until I unplugged it from the back and then began to cry hysterically because I thought I had killed the tiny people.

Yeah, talk about ridiculous.

I do as she says and drink the water and two pills beside it. I open my mouth to apologize.

"Don't even try. Go take a damn shower. You reek. Then you can start apologizing by buying me a big mac, a bag of fried churros and and dark mocha frap from Starbucks."

Yes ma'am.

"Anything else?"

"And a new shirt," she grumbles as I stand up and wrap the cheetah print blanket that she and Dee threw over me last night.

"K'ay." I say as I waddle away in search of her bathroom. I open the door on my right. There is a queen bed taking most of the space, a messy dresser, mismatched nightstands and clothing strewn all over. In the corner I can see the luggage I brought with me last night. I really do have good friends.

I close the door and open the one on the left. Oh god, Erica should not be allowed to decorate anything in her life. Her love for dogs had made its way into her bathroom. The shower curtain was white with colorful cartoons of every kind of dog, while the sink was decorated with cermaic St Bernards. She had a paw shaped rug next to the tub and the toilet seat was covered with a brown, shaggy toilet seat cover. Of course the bathroom wouldn't be complete without a picture of her pet labrador, Bean, hung over her toilet. To be fair though, Bean is way better than most humans.

I take a look at the reflection in the mirror and study the sickly reflection starring back at me. "Yuck." I was by no means ugly, but today? Yikes. My normally tanned complexion was now pale and my curly hair looked like a birds nest. I think it even had bits of spaghetti on the ends. My bloodshot, brown eyes were puffy and had dark circles underneath. Not only do I feel like sh*t but now I look the part.

Speaking of which, this headache is killing me. I will never drink again!...For the same reason of course.

Why was I drinking, you ask? Well it turns out my boyfriend of almost a year is actually gay. Thats right, he was using me as a cover to hide the fact that he was gay from his family. At least I assume he was. I wasn't really in a talkative mood when I found him passionately making out with the pizza delivery guy.

Don't get me wrong. I've nothing against gay people or the lgbtq community. It's just I never imagined I'd be dating a gay guy, you get me? I invested my time and effort, not to mention it was one of my longest relationships. Little did I know we were headed straight toward a pile of dung.

Exactly forty-seven minutes later I am showered, dressed in boyfriend jeans, a red Coca-Cola shirt, white vans and ready to go. Erica is in the kitchen dressed in a black tee shirt and shorts, cooking her specialty: eggs and ham. She has two plates ready on the table.

"I would so turn for you," I say jokingly as I grab a chair to sit down.

"Of course you would. I'm hot and I cook. I'm the total package."

"Its a mystery how you're still single," I tease.

"Guys can't handle all this sexiness," she says flipping a couple tortillas on the stove and bringing them to the table.

"Are we going to talk about yesterday?" Erica looks at me inquisitivly. "No, scratch that," she says shaking her head. "When are we going to talk about yesterday. It's the least I deserve after having my spaghetti regurgitated back to me."

Well when she puts it like that...

"How about when Dee gets back from her job?" I assume that's where she was since she is nowhere to be found. It's easier to explain it once rather than twice.

"Fine, what are you going to do in the meantime. I have a business to run. You can stay here if you like."

Erica owns a tattoo shop that opens at 12 somewhere in the heart of downtown LA. It fits her image perfectly. She has a black pixie cut with striking blue highlights that contrast nicely with her pale skin. She has an eyebrow and nose piercing and about three different piercings on her ears. And we can't forget her signature black nail polish and tats artfully scattered throughout her body and snaking up her arms.

"Thanks babe, but I need to get going," I say getting up and popping the last piece of tortilla in my mouth.

"Where to?"

"To start apologizing," I smirk and turn to leave.

"Don't forget my mocha!" I hear her yell behind me as I close the door.

Stupid me left my wallet on the passenger seat of my car, in my drunken stupor. I sigh in relief when I see that my car wasn't broken into last night. It was probably thanks to Bean who was chained outside and barks at the slightest movement of any leaf.

I sigh again but this time it's not in relief. My phone was next to my wallet with only eighteen percent. However, that's not the reason I sighed. It's because I had thirty-two messages and five missed calls and worst of all, I knew who they were from. I sigh once again and toss my phone inside the glove compartment. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

"Alright Mercy, let's do this." I was now prepared for all things to come my way. I just wasn't ready for the hurricane that was Liam Walker.

***

Yay, the first chapter is finally published! Thank you to those who made it to the bottom. I hope I didn't bore you too much. I'll work on it. If by some strange force in the air you did enjoy it, please let me know by voting on the chapter. If you didn't enjoy it, let me know in the comments. Whether you do or you don't I still thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Hope to see you next time! :)