Love Me Anyway (A student-teacher relationship)

Chapter Eleven

Picture of Cynthia's dad, William Michaels. Ha, Steve Carell. I can't help but find that hilarious.

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The dismissal bell rang, and I snuck from my classroom, walking through the crowd on my tiptoes. It was stupid, really, but I felt an undeniable need to act stealthy. I was afraid that Josh (was he Josh now?) would somehow be on my path to my locker, and I would have to face him. After my revelation, and after skipping his class, that was not an appealing idea. I also didn’t think that if I saw him again, I would be able to resist checking him out, very obviously.

I made it to my locker, and sighed in ridiculous relief. I unlocked it, shoving in a ton of random stuff that I didn’t think I would need. I had no clue if I had homework for first to fourth period because of the whole sleeping thing, but Nicole would probably let me copy in the morning.

“Cynthia!” I jolted, banging my forehead against the door to my locker, and groaning in pain. Nicole laughed, but hastily covered it up, asking if I was okay.

“What do you want?” I moaned at her, rubbing the red mark that had burst to life on my forehead, right above my eyes brow.

“I was wondering if I could come over to yours,” she said. “You see… I forgot my key, and my parents won’t be home until late, so I’m locked out.” She smiled sheepishly.

“My dad is still home, Nicole…”

“I know! That’s a good thing!” She thought about what she had said, and then fumbled to correct herself. “Well it’s not good. But if I’m there, it’s less likely that… something… will happen, right? And it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.” She smiled hopefully, and I had to say yes, though the doubt was still heavy in my voice. My home wasn’t a place that frequently entertained guesses, and I preferred to keep my friends (okay, honestly, friend) away.

I followed Nicole to her locker, waiting for her to get her stuff. Maybe this was to my advantage… I could copy off her homework without the  “it’s due in five minutes” rush.

The crowd was thinning considerably, as people hurried to catch buses that they knew wouldn’t wait for them, and I saw clearly as he walked down the hallway. And yes, I was right. I was obviously checking him out…

It was hard not to really, how did I ever restrain myself? He was just so amazingly… Perfect was the only way I could think to describe it. Maybe it was just because he was my type (or something stupid like that) but I couldn’t notice a single thing wrong with him. His hair stuck out at some pretty comical angles sometimes, but I thought it was cute how he never bothered to style it, and the fact that he was always running his hands through it was endearing. His eyes were a silvery shade of green that was honestly pretty unnerving, but they were so expressive and deep that you could get lost in them anyway. He had this twitch sometimes, I would notice it occasionally. His right eye would just squint up in the slightest and it always made me want to laugh, because he go the goofiest smile on his face afterwards. He was completely unprofessional, like he was a child himself. He had gotten in a mini-debate with one of the students during our class, and had ended up winning by “your mom”ing the girl. That was a shock to everyone there. And I swear that he didn’t know how to tie a tie, ‘cause he was always wearing his funny. It was always really loose, which I could understand, but always crooked, too, to the point that it was pretty ridiculous. And he wore the typical, formal outfit that all teachers did, but instead of anything even faintly resembling dress shoes, he wore the most beat up pair of converse I had ever seen. They seriously had the sole duct taped on and were scribbled on all over with sharpies.