the substitute | l.r.h.

t w o

The end of class couldn't come fast enough. When the bell rang, I jumped a little, I was on edge. As I worked on Algebra, Mr. Hemmings was introducing the class to The Salem Witch Trials. But, every now and then, I would sneak a glance at him. And I swear, he was looking at me, too.
  I quickly gathered my things, shoving them into my book bag. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Everyone had already plowed out of the room, leaving me and Mr. Hemmings alone. I made a bee line for the door, until I heard his voice.
  "Miss Dean, hang back a minute." I mentally swore and slowly turned around. Mr. Hemmings was sitting at his desk, looking over papers. He grabbed a pair of glasses and put them on, pushing them up the bridge of his nose.
  I walked over to his desk cautiously, keeping my distance. He looked up at me and folded his hands.
  "I'm impressed. You're the first student I've had that already knows the material." I blinked, taken aback. I was expecting to be scolded. Mrs. Pennington usual was annoyed when she found out I already knew everything she was teaching.
  "When did you read The Crucible?" He had a curious look on his face. His brows were furrowed slightly, and he almost seemed to be smiling. Almost.
  "Uhm, I read it a couple of years ago with my dad. He insisted, saying I would enjoy it. And I did. I've read it three or four times." He raised his eyebrows. I felt my cheeks heat up again, and I cleared my throat.
  "I should get to class," I whispered, making my way back to the door. But, Mr. Hemmings somehow beat me to it. He stood in front of me, and I realized just how small I was compared to him.
  I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. He held out his hand. In it was a spiral bound yellow notebook. My notebook.
  "You left this on your desk," he said. I gently plucked it from his hands, mumbling an almost inaudible 'thank you'. He moved aside, letting me through the door. I quickly sped to my locker, which was down the hall. My fingers fumbled as I turned the combination lock.
  I opened the locker and put my things away, then grabbed the necessary notebooks for next class. As I pushed the locker to close, I dared to peek into Mrs. Pennington's -now Mr. Hemmings - classroom.
  He was still in the doorway, looking right at me. Even as my classmates clamored and moved around, blocking my view, we didn't break eye contact. Just then, he turned away and slammed his door.
  And again, I swear, I think I saw a smile.

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I sat down at the lunch table farthest away from everyone. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and checked my messages. One new text from Mickey. I tapped on it quickly.
  Hey beautiful, it read. Sorry I didn't text today. Had a dentist appointment. But I'll be there in a few. Save me a seat at our table?
  I smiled. Michael Clifford was my boyfriend of almost four years. He was the sweetest, and dorkiest, boy I had ever known. I eagerly typed my response.
  Hey babe. It's alright. You didn't miss much, except the intense new teacher we have. I'll explain when you get here. I miss you bunches.
  I sat my phone down and grabbed a sandwich from my lunch box. I took a bite, then heard my phone buzz.
  Miss you too, baby girl. I'll be there in a sec.
  I didn't reply, and put my phone back in my pocket. I continued to eat my sandwich. And then, I felt two arms wrap around my chest, and a pair of lips kiss my neck. I giggled.
  "Hey," I said. Michael sat next to me and kissed my cheek.
  "Hey, love. Oh, can I have the other half of your sandwich? I'm starved, and I forgot my wallet." I nodded and handed him the other half. He ate it quickly and smiled at me, bits of sandwich visible.
  "Thank you," is what I assume he said. I giggled and punched his arm.
  "Chew with your mouth closed, you doofus!" Michael swallowed and laughed out loud. He wiped his mouth off and then kissed me quickly. I smiled.
  "Sorry, babe. I was really hungry. Anyway, tell me about this new English teacher."
  I then proceeded to tell him about Mr. Hemmings, the young and mysterious new English teacher with a lip ring. I told him about how he embarrassed Ashton, Calum and Kimberly, and how he let me work on other things. However, I omitted the little glances and the exchange we had before I left his room.
  And I obviously didn't mention how intimidating and handsome he was.
  "Wow, sounds like a real hard ass."
  "You have no idea," I mumbled, hoping he didn't hear. Based on the look on his face, he didn't. He was just playing on his phone.
  "Well, guess I'll meet him tomorrow. Come on, we should get ready for class."

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I swung open my bedroom door and threw my book bag across the room. With an exasperated sigh, I flung myself onto my bed.
  I rolled over so that I was staring at the ceiling. After a few seconds, I sat up and looked around. My bedroom was quite slovenly; clothes were strewn about, my vanity was littered with makeup brushes, and my bed was unmade.
  I should make an effort to clean it. You never know when your super hot boyfriend might sneak through the window to have a late night booty call.
  Eh, I'll do it tomorrow.
  Just then, someone knocked on my door.
  "Come in," I croaked out. My door slowly opened, and my father poked his head in. He laughed at my messy room. Everyone told me I got my looks from my father. We both had the same dark hair and wicked sense of humor. Mom used to say we had the same smile, too. But he insists I have her laugh.
  "You know, you're just like your mother. She hated cleaning." I managed a small smile. I remembered my mom and dads old deal; dad cleans while mom cooks.
  "I don't hate cleaning, I just strongly dislike it."
  "Well, do what you want. But get dolled up. We're having guests for dinner." My interest peaks, my curiosity getting to me.
  "Guests? They must be pretty important. We never have guests. Especially not dinner guests." Since it was just the two of us, dad didn't really bother with making plans unless it was absolutely necessary.
  "Well, they are important. A young couple finally moved in next door." The house next door had been empty for as long as I could remember. It was almost identical to this one, but older. Old Victorian mansions were quite expensive, so whomever moved in next door must've been as wealthy as us.
  "That's great. Maybe now we can use that grille out back that's been rusting for over two years." He chuckled and started to close the door, then opened it again.
  "I was wondering if-"
  "Yes, dad, I'll make dinner," I laughed.
  "That's my girl."

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Hope you liked it! I worked really hard on this. Tell me what you think down below. :)

Lord, how I wish Luke would look at me like that. Hot dayum!

evangeline