Secret Torture (Student/Teacher) - COMPLETED

Chapter Twenty Four: First Sight

I stood before the mirror and looked at myself. I had let my mother do my hair and makeup, and I had to admit that she had done a pretty great job. It was a little more than I was comfortable wearing, but it looked okay. I felt okay.

I smoothed out the delicate lilac lace of my dress and slipped on my shoes. Yet another stupid party - only this time, I was sort of excited. 

James was going to be there.

I hadn't spoken to Ryan. I just hoped he wasn't going to show up.

"Allison? Are you ready?" My mom asked, fixing an earring through her ear.

"Yeah," I said, as I reached for my bag.

The driver took us all the way out to a hotel by the sea. It was like a castle - huge and stone built, turreted, with willow trees lining the driveway. It was like something out of a fairytale. 

The wind was cold and sharp as we stepped out of the car, but we quickly escaped it once we were safe inside the castle doors. Walter took my mothers arm and walked alongside her. I followed behind them, keeping an eye out for James. He was here already. He had texted me when he arrived. All I had to do was find him. 

The second we entered the huge ballroom, a waiter approached, offering glasses of golden champagne in a perfect ring on a silver dish. 

I couldn't resist. I took one, and tasted it, feeling its warmth seep through my body. I looked around, and my eyes found him. James was standing by the window, talking to another man, laughing, champagne in hand. I hesitated, unsure of myself, and of the stranger talking to James. Yet as I pondered whether to approach him or not, feeling my gaze, he turned and saw me. His mouth eased into a welcoming smile, and he gestured for me to join him. 

I made my way through the crowd, and soon enough, reached him. James smiled at me - but noticeably, made no attempt to touch me or kiss me or show any signs of affection towards me. He was being careful. For once.

"Allison, this is my friend, Michael."

Michael stretched out an arm towards me. He was golden haired and quite handsome. I shook his open hand and smiled at him.

"It's nice to finally meet you," he said.

I glanced towards James. 

"Michael knows," he told me. "He's my oldest and most trusted friend. It's nothing to worry about."

Michael nodded his head, with a friendly smile. "James is sure you won't remember, but we've met already."

"We have?" I asked, confused.

"Yes. Very briefly. In August, the same night you two met."

James laughed under his breath. "Michael was there that night. I think I introduced you."

I suddenly felt extremely embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I really don't remember much of that night."

"I didn't think you would," Michael laughed. "It's okay. I won't take it personally."

"Michael is an artist," James told me. 

"Really?" I asked.

"That's how James and I met. Art college. More than a decade ago. God, time flies," Michael sighed, slinging his drink back. "It really has been a while."

I smiled. My conscience kindly reminded me than a decade ago, I had been eight years old. 

"Well, it's been lovely meeting you, Allison, but I seem to have drank all my champagne." Michael lifted an empty glass up. "I'll be on my way now, but I'm sure I'll run into you later. If not, have a lovely night - and don't let this idiot get you blackout drunk again."