Mr. B. Urie

4

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Well, no I know what I was thinking, but you're my teacher and-" I try to explain, but Brendon's lips are back on mine. When he pulls away, he's grinning like a kid in a candy store.

"Arie, I've wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you." He says, brushing a stray hair out of my face. I need time to process this. He likes me too?

"I . . . I have to go. Can we talk about this tomorrow?" I open the car door but wait for his response before I get out.

"Tomorrow is Saturday." He smirks.

"Right. Come here around noon and we'll talk. Have a good night, Brendon." I can't very well keep calling him Mr. Urie after all of that. He nods and I get out of his car, running up my driveway. I can't believe all of that just happened! What's going to come out of this? He's my teacher. It's not like we can openly see each other, not to mention the fact that I'm still only 17. I still don't know how old Brendon is, but it's definitely older than 17.

I change into a pair of pyjamas and climb into bed, thinking up a list of questions to ask him.

1. How old are you?
2. Doesn't this jeopardize your job?
3. Do you really like me?
4. What do you want to do about this?

****

There's a knock on my front door at 11:30, and I'm not even dressed yet. He's early, what the hell? I guess I did say around noon . . .

I sheepishly open the door to Brendon, who is sporting a cute blue button-down and black skinny jeans. He's wearing a snapback over his untamed hair. "Oh, sorry I'm early. I can, like, drive around the block a few times and come back, if you want." I roll my eyes and pull him into my house. "Or not." I gesture at the couch in the living room absently.

"Make yourself at home. I'm just going to get dressed and then we'll talk." I run up to my room and change into a Metalica t-shirt and denim shorts, throwing my messy hair into a bun.

"So," Brendon says when I walk into the room again. "About last night . . ." Great, he's going to say it was all a mistake and things should just go back to normal.

"I agree," I sit beside him on the couch, facing forward, and hug a pillow to my stomach.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," he laughs, sliding slightly closer. "Let me finish my sentence. About last night, I can't stop thinking about you. I know I'm your teacher, and I'm five years older than you and I could lose my job, but I really don't care because, god, you're amazing." So he's 22 . . .

I turn to him, dumbfounded, for a few seconds and then smile broadly. "I agree," I say again, this time more sure of myself. "So where do we go from here?"

"I was thinking lunch; I'm kind of hungry." I push his shoulder lightly and stand up.

"There's never food in my house. We could go out, or order in. What do you feel like?" He gets up too and rubs his stubble covered chin.

"I don't know if we should risk going out so close to the school. Let's order some pizza, I'll pay." He pulls me into a hug and kisses my temple. "I'm so happy that I'm not alone in this."

****

Brendon and I are curled up on my couch watching Edward Scissor Hands when there's a knock on the door. I sit up straight and press pause on the movie. "Hide," I whisper. He raises a brow but scurries towards the front hall closet.

I approach the door and try to lower my heart rate. When I open it, Taya is standing there. "Hey, I texted you, but you didn't answer so I came over. I was worried about you last night."

"You did? Sorry, my phone's upstairs. I was worried about you! I went looking for you and you were nowhere to be found, so I left because it was so loud. Funny enough, I ran into that teacher we were talking about the other day and he gave me a ride home."

"The hot one?" Of course she mentions that! But I guess she thinks we're alone, so it's not unreasonable. "Is that who's car is parked in your driveway?" She waggles her eyebrows at me. Shit! Shit shit shit. What do I tell her? Before I can come up with an excuse, Brendon lets out a sigh and pokes his head out of the closet.

I drag Taya into my house and glare a little at Brendon. "I was just leaving," he mumbles, sliding on his shoes. I grab his arm in my free hand (the other still grasping Taya) and pull them both away from the front door.

"No, you weren't. If you're going to pop out of the closet, Taya deserves an explanation. So go ahead, tell her what you're doing here." I sit them down at my kitchen table and fold my arms.

"I, uh," he clears his throat and looks at me pleadingly. "I'm actually a close family friend, Arie's dad asked me to check on her." He lies.

"Yeah, it was his stupid idea to hide in the closet. He thought you'd find it weird that he was my teacher and a family friend." I sigh. I hate to keep secrets from my best friend, but it's the only thing to do in this circumstance.

"You're a little young to be Mr. Alvos's friend, don't you think?" Taya tilts her head to the side in curiosity.

"No, yeah-my dad used to travel with him. Arie and I hung out way more before I went to college, her dad thought that it would be good for us to see each other. Guess he doesn't know I'm your English teacher, huh?" Brendon laughs. I admire the way he can come up with all this on the spot.

"He's not home enough to know . . ." Taya and Brendon both frown and reach to comfort me, then pull back and stare at each other for a moment. "Hey, Tay, is it okay if I catch you up more tomorrow? There's some things I need to talk to Brendon about." She nods and stands up.

"Check my texts, okay?" She teases, walking out the door. As soon as I hear it close I start laughing.

"Way to go, B, you got us out of the awkwardest situation I've ever been in." I take his hat off and ruffle his hair.

"Most awkward," he corrects.

"I'm not an English teacher, Mr. Urie," I say innocently. He cringes but leans towards me.

"Touché."