Behind Classroom Doors

VII- Detention Again

Jenny shakes her head at me in disbelief, "He gave you detention again?"

I nod with a very big bite of salad in my mouth. I caught Jenny up on the situation with Dean and me in our last class. I did skip the part where Dean grabbed my wrist so tight Mr. Morgan mistook it for abuse.

"Liv," Dean says from behind me. I drop my fork and turn to face him. "Can I please talk to you alone?" He glances up at Jenny then back to me.

Despite my anger, I know we need to talk about this so I follow him out of the cafeteria. When the hallway is practically deserted Dean grabs my arm and examines my wrist just like Mr. Morgan had done. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize how hard I was grabbing you." His eyes are clouded with regret.

"It doesn't hurt." I lie, moving my arm back to my side. "Besides, that's not what I'm mad about."

Dean rubs the back of his neck nervously, "I know. I want you to know that I do trust you. It's just that I have a hard time sharing you. Even thinking about another guy with you alone makes me crazy." I know first-hand how crazy it makes him.

"You say you trust me, but you're acting like I can't be trusted around other people. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that Hunter coming over was just to work on a project. We've been together for three years Dean, you should trust me by now." It feels good to get all of this off my chest, I just hope he understands.

Dean places his hands on my shoulders and lowers his gaze to meet mine, "You're right, I'm sorry." His forehead rests on mine in a meaningful gesture.

"Promise me you'll stop with the overly jealous crap."

"I promise." Dean agrees and then pulls me at arm's length, "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

I feel resolved, "I'm not mad anymore."

After school, Dean walks me to Mr. Morgan's and I feel like we're getting back to normal. "I can't believe he gave you detention."

"Well, at least you have it tomorrow." I remind him.

"That seems reasonable I guess. At least he's not just taking out whatever his problems are on just you." We stop at my locker so I can put my books away.

"Like I said, he's just new. It'll pass." Dean clicks his tongue and nods.

I realize that if Mr. Morgan wanted to make my life even more complicated, he could. Especially after I snapped at him yesterday, I would've deserved it.

"I'll pick you up in an hour."

I shut my locker door and kiss Dean quickly before making my way into Mr. Morgan's room.

His room is quiet again but not because Mr. Morgan isn't in here. I look down and see his head on his desk with his eyes closed. I almost laugh, I've never seen a younger teacher sleeping on the job before. "Mr. Morgan," I whisper yell, making my way over to his side of the desk. He looks so relaxed that I almost feel bad for waking him up...almost. "Mr. Morgan," I say a little louder while tapping him on the shoulder.

This time he jolts awake with a piece of paper stuck to his face. I burst out in laughter. Mr. Morgan's confusion becomes clear when he quickly removes the paper from his face. "I was grading some assignments." He tries.

"Yeah, those boring boring assignments." I'm still giggling when I see a small smile form on his lips. "Oh my god!" I say in utter amazement.

"What?"

I stop laughing almost completely, "You smiled." I beam, ignoring how his smile compliments his features even more. His eyes become brighter for a split second before he shakes his head, losing any trace of a smile. "I didn't think you were capable of that," I add in a much softer voice.

Mr. Morgan looks at me for a minute, I try to figure out what he's thinking, or why he's studying my face by meeting his gaze. He seems to notice he's staring and then clears his throat. "Have a seat Ms. Gardner." He instructs and I oblige, taking the seat closer to his desk.

I look at him, "You know you can call me Livia. I don't care for 'Ms. Gardner,' It's too formal."

Mr. Morgan sits back in his seat, "Well formality is my specialty." There's a hint of amusement in his voice, I smile. "Livia...I like that name." He says seemingly to himself.

"Why?" I question. "It's just a normal name."

"Yes but it's not at the same time." Mr. Morgan keeps complete eye contact as he explains, "Your full name isn't Olivia or most people would call you Liv. Then again I know some people still do. I've heard Dean call you Liv but, you don't like it do you?" I'm shocked at how right he is. I never liked Liv compared to Livia. It doesn't sit well with me.

"How did you-?"

Mr. Morgan shrugs, "Just a wild guess. I just know what it's like to not want to go by something everyone calls you." A small smirk falls on his lips as he drinks in my expression. "Anyway, I have some papers for you to staple over here."

I stand up and pull my chair over to his desk. He continues grading his assignments while I staple. It's not as big of a stack as yesterday so I'm done in less than twenty minutes.

Once he finishes with his grading he puts his pen down and looks over to me. "Can I ask what this morning was about?" His face doesn't show any emotion, just genuine curiosity. I had almost forgotten he witnessed part of it. Then he looks at my wrist, "You're hiding it. Does that mean it's bruised?" I had put an oversized hoodie on to cover my wrist completely earlier.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, "It was nothing." I finally responded. He's right though, the bruises are a deep purple.

"That wasn't nothing. He hurt you and you're protecting him." His voice is still soft, not angry at all. When I don't answer he asks, "Has he hurt you before?"

I shake my head quickly, Dean has never left bruises on me before. He's only grabbed me too hard a few times but he doesn't know his strength. "Dean's a good guy." I defend. When Mr. Morgan scoffs I can tell he doesn't believe me. "Why do you care?" I ask.

"Because you're my student and I witnessed someone hurting you. It's my obligation to worry."

Now it's my turn to scoff, "It's none of your business."

"Livia, he left bruises, that's my business."

I don't respond and try to stack the papers to keep myself from getting worked up. I can't help but ask, "If you really cared then why didn't you call the principle?"

"Because you asked me not to. But you're right, maybe I should." Mr. Morgan tries to grab the phone but I place my hand over his to stop his movements.

"No, please don't." I plead softly, his eyes boring into mine. After what feels like an eternity, he makes up his mind. I move my hand away from his, ignoring the heat I feel from him.

I put the papers in a box on a lower shelf and move my chair back to my desk, doing homework in silence for the rest of the hour. When the clock hits four O'clock, I stand up and make my way to the door. Right before I leave I turn to him and say, "Goodbye Mr. Morgan."

He doesn't look back up at me when he says, "Goodbye Livia."