Miss. Parsons is a fresh-out-of-college high school English Literature teacher who has a passion for love, Shakespeare and apparently, hunky southern cowboys. She pays close attention to detail, including the flirty smiles exchanged by students and...
Dustin's knuckles were tainted white from his firm grip on the steering wheel, his eyes hard and staring straight as if he were trying to study the road that was set out in front of us. My hands sat folded in my lap, I picked at the burgundy nail polish that Harper had coated on my nails last night.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words denting the silence that had bubbled around us for the past ten minutes, "I'm so sorry." I continued, more to myself than anything. Dustin pulled over to the side of the road; it was then that I noticed his grip had loosened and his eyes were now set on me.
"Don't you ever apologize for that, ever again." His voice came softly, his hands fumbled with his seatbelt and then mine, he pulled me closer to his body as tears streamed down my face meeting at my chin. "It's out of your control, I want you to sue that piece of sh,"
"I plan too." I had cut him off, his arms were wrapping themselves around me tighter as each word spilled from his lips, just as a boa constrictor would with its prey. It didn't hurt in the slightest, instead it sent a swarm of butterflies tickling the lining of my stomach. The surged their way up to my heart and hammered it against my chest. "Can we," I swallowed a big gulp of air in my best effort to stop the tears in their tracks. "Can we stop talking about this, please." The pleading in my voice was more evident than I would have liked it to be.
"Anything for you, babydoll," Dustin's sweet accent spilling over each word that slipped from between his plump, pink lips.
"Thank you." Pressing my forehead against his I allowed a choking laugh to jump out from my throat and into the air; something had come over me and I quickly pecked his lips, not giving him enough time to react. My body was pulled back by an unknown force as a small smile played on my mouth, "Sorry,"
"Don't." He was shaking his head and his eyes held a smile that his lips did not, because they were against mine once again, his calloused hands coming up to cup my cheeks while my body instinctively flocks towards his not leaving any nook or cranny untouched. "Mmmm, baby," the moan had rumbled it's way through his chest where my fingertips had laid.
A smirk had settled on my lips as his stubbly neck and cheeks flushed with a brilliant red color. "You like that baby?" I made a point to emphasize the word baby.
Dustin's head fell against the headrest while his eyes made their way around his sockets. "You gonna do it again if I say yes?" The red was fading and now barely noticeable, I simply shrugged my shoulders before making my way off of his lap, which I hadn't even realized I was straddling. Ignoring him, I turned to yank my seatbelt from its place while the smile never slipped off of my face.
"Let's ride," slipped from my tongue as my arm reached for the radio dial, turning it well past ten. His chuckle tickled my stomach before he pulled back onto the road. Meanwhile, I had no clue how I was going to get through this day with Dustin no more than 2 feet out of my reach.
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Dustin readied his handgun as he selected a spot on the target before pulling the trigger, once, and then twice then running out of ammo the machine brought the target forward and Dustin had managed a blow to the head and the chest.
I take one ear plug out of my ear, "Take that, Señor Santos." He murmured, I bit the inside of my cheek in an attempt to conceal a laugh. "Your turn, little girly." Dustin hands over the gun and I tentatively take it form him. The gun range clerk described it as a Desert Eagle .50 caliber, and while I may not know what that means, I know it's powerful.
"Now what you're gonna wanna do is have your dominant hand around the grip and place your other hand underneath it, like you're cupping it." He helps move my hands into the correct positioning and I feel the heat from his body radiating onto mine in waves. "Index finger on the trigger," As he says this, my finger slips and a bullet goes flying out then lamely misses the target by what seems to be a quarter of a mile. The kickback of the gun pushes my elbow into my chest.
Dustin howls out a bellyaching laugh and I feel his chest move up and down against my back- I can't help but fall into it. Other people around us look, not because they can hear him, because my bullet fell into the next guy's area. I offer a small, guilty smile to which the stranger returns a scowl. Once he turns back to his target, I stick my tongue out in his direction like a little kid whose friends just fought off a bully for him but he wanted to get his two cents in.
"Now, in order to hit the target, you're gonna wanna aim," I place the ear plug back into my left ear, which is ringing due to my rookie mistake of taking it out to begin with. With my hands back into placement, this time Dustin position my arm in a way that I won't feel a blow to my internal organs.
Dustin's hands shadow over mine and when I pull the trigger it hits the chest and before I know it, I'm pulling the trigger like crazy, Dustin has pulled away from me and when I'm finished he's beaming like a schoolgirl asked to prom by her crush. Once the machine brings the target forward I notice hits in the abdominal and chest area. "Take that, Mister Santos." I whispered.
