My Valentine

Fifteen

Nightengale Phillips

I blinked up at him. He swore under his breath, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

I wondered if mine mirrored his. I probably should have been freaked that I'd just kissed my teacher, but oddly enough, it felt...right.

"Maybe you should go before your parents..."

He trailed off, looking for his next excuse to avoid me.

I shook my head at him, refusing to leave. I deserved to know where we stood and if there was even a 'we'.

"What was that about Mr. Valentine?" I sat in his toy filled sofa and watched him sit across from me.
He laughed almost bitterly, "Nightengale please, the last thing I want you to do right now is call me, Mr. Valentine."

We sat there in silence, both avoiding each other's gazes, not really knowing what to say.

I sighed in defeat,"See you at school Mr. Valentine." There was no point in sitting there, waiting for him to come clean about how he felt even when we both knew that even if we did reciprocate feelings, society would never accept us.

Half way to the door I heard him softly ask, "Do you feel it too?"
I turned around sharply, almost knocking over a ceramic vase.

"If, by 'it', you mean everytime I see you, my heart gets the strangest urge to jump out of my chest, then yes, I do feel it."

He bit his lower lip and nodded understandingly, "I feel it too... as messed up as it is."
I ran my hands along my jeans, trying to wipe the sweat off.

"...but you're married"
He nodded, "And I'm twelve years your senior."
"And you're my teacher," I sighed.

"Nightengale, my marriage is over, it has been for a while...it just hasn't been legalized," he said, trying to find an open window for us.

"My parents would freak, Marshall. They'd probably call the cops on you and you're a father. I can't do that to Brooklyn."

We stood there, staring at each other in consideration.

"No one has to know," I innocently said.

He looked like he was in deep thought then laughed harshly, "This is crazy! I'm a grown ass man asking a seventeen year old to be his..."

"Girlfriend?" I finished.

"We don't stand a chance together...not until you're eighteen."

"But I do wanna be with you, Marshall. In spite of everything, I want you."

I folded my arms and he mirrored my actions. We distanced ourselves away from each other.

"You're so beautiful..." he murmured and I was tempted to reach up and pull him into a kiss again.

Just then, my phone vibrated. It was my mother.

Mom: Where are you?!

I rolled my eyes.

"My mom's probably worried," I told him,"can we finish this tomorrow? Like, can we go somewhere?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "Under no circumstances can we be seen together... especially not now..."
"No one would assume..."

"Nightingale, I may foolishly reach out to tug one of your flaming red locks... or to run my fingers across your soft lips," all the while, we were unknowingly being pushed physically together by an undeniable force because before I knew it, we were inches apart again, "- and I know I'd probably scare you away in the sight of some old lady who has issues with men...so I think it's safer if we just stay in the comfort of my home."