Teaching the Teacher

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hello again,

I suppose you would like to know what his paper said, but unfortunately I cannot tell you. That is between he and I. I can give you a brief summary of his work, but in an attempt to keep some things special, I will not give you full details.

Yes, the paper was about me. In his paper he talked about the one that made him consider being 'real' again. Yes, his paper made me cry. (Not actually cry, but I did get teary-eyed.) He wrote beautifully. And I'm not talking about his handwriting, though that was quite nice as well, but his style was-and still is-fantastic. Though I may be slightly biased, because I pretty much felt the same way about him as he described his feelings for me, he wrote in a way that I hung on his every word. I loved his paper so much, I read it again before I left school and then again when I got home.

Of course he called me as soon as he was done with practice, immediately asking if I had read his paper yet. Of course I lied, not wanting to talk about it in fear that I might embarrass myself or him.

"No, I haven't gotten to your's yet. Why? What did you write about?" I questioned, playing dumb.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see. By the way, you cracked me up when you put Ashley in her place today." He barely managed to finish for laughing so hard.

"Well I assure you that was not my intent, but damn, I can tell she is going to be on my nerves all year." I complained, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yeah. She has always been like that. I'm sorry for laughing out loud, too. I really didn't mean to." He apologized, laughing again.

"It's quite alright, it didn't seem to phase her at all." We both laughed at that, me thinking she would probably do the same thing the next day. "How was practice?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen to start my dinner.

"Eh. It sucked." Was his only reply. He truly sounded exhausted. I couldn't help but laugh before replying.

"It couldn't have been that bad.." I suggested.

"It was. Coach is pushing us super hard. He wants to win every game this season." He sounded tired and annoyed when he said this.

"And you don't want to win?" I asked trying to get a reaction from him.

"Yeah, but not that bad. I literally hurt everywhere." I could hear him wince, and I pictured him getting out of his car, trying not to strain any muscles. That train of thought of course took my mind to a horrible place and before I could stop myself, I blurted my thoughts out loud.

"Literally hurt EVERYWHERE, huh?" I asked in a low tone, making him chuckle.

"No, not everywhere, at least not the important places." As he talked I could almost see him roll his eyes and I could here the smile in his voice.

"Glad I got you to smile though. You were starting to depress me." I said pouting, even though he couldn't see me.

"How'd you know I smiled?" He asked truly surprised.

"I could hear it in your voice." I informed him matter of factly.

A small silence fell over us, while he made his way into his house and up to his room I suppose, before he spoke again. "I miss you." He said, sounding sad and tired. But before I could say anything in reply he spoke again. "What are you doing?" He asked.

I looked up at the clock on the wall seeing it was nearly 7:00pm. "Just finished making dinner. What are you doing?"

"What are you having?" He asked, not bothering to answer my question.