blood (scomiche)

Chapter Nine

A.K.

What I was doing was serious. This isn't something that I can apologize for and simply move on. No, this would have so many consequences, too many for a man like me to handle. I had willingly seen her outside of school three times, and each time I could honestly say was a blast. She's a fun girl to be around. She always laughing and smiling. Every time she laughs, her blonde curls bounce next to her.

But it was different during school, of course it was. She never raised her hand, never made an effort to participate in class. She was playing it off well, her drama class really came in handy. No one would've expected that we were seeing each other.

I had started noticing things about her, like how she started showing up to school with her hair in a pony tail. She wore little to no makeup, and her outfits no longer looked like they were professionally designed. Her work was sloppier, that was if she even did it. I wanted to speak with her, but I needed to talk to her as her teacher and nothing else.

It was Thursday in class, a little under a minute before the bell rang that would send my students rushing out of my class. The all silently read from their textbooks.

"Ms. Maldonado," I say softly. She slowly looked up from her textbook to me. I had noticed the bags under her eyes, like she wasn't getting any sleep. "Can you please stay after the bell?" I ask. She looked at me for a moment, not saying anything. She sighed once.

"Sure," she mumbles, closing her textbook as the bell rang. Students flooded out of the classroom, leaving only Kirstie and I. She didn't move from her desk, looking down to her hands as she fidgeting a little. I pulled a chair up next to my desk.

"Come take a seat here, please," I say. She didn't move. It was like she didn't even hear me. "Kirstin-"

"I'm fine here, thanks," she says firmly, her thumbs playing with each other. I sighed.

"What's been up with you?" I ask her, connecting my hands over my desk. "A teacher can notice when their students start to under-dress and not try as hard-"

"Does it embarrass you?" She asks. "What, are you realizing how disgusting I am without makeup?" She continues.

"No, Kirstin-" I say, taking a deep breathe. "I think you are beautiful either way, I truly do, but from a teacher's point of view-

"Can you stop with this fucking 'teacher' speak please!" She snaps. "We are equal, okay?" I thought carefully about what I said next, but my temper flew through anyway.

"Fine," I say. "You don't want advice or help form your teacher? Then, what the hell is going on with you?" I ask her firmly. She shakes her head. "You're obviously not putting effort into how you look, you look tired as hell, your grades are slipping, I'm a teacher, I have the right to look, so what is the matter with you?" I ask her. "You have a C in Drama?" I question. "That is your favorite fucking class, Kirstie-"

"Shut up," she spits. I raised an eyebrow. "Just, stop speaking," she say, holding up a hand. Her head fell into her hands as her body started shaking a little. I heard the sound of sniffles, which is what caused me to rush to her side by desk.

"Kirstin," I say, kneeling down next to her. I couldn't touch her, someone could easily look in the window and see. "I'm-I'm sorry," I mutter. "Talk to me, please," I encourage as her crying increased. She wiped her eyes and looks up at me.