Young Blood

Chapter Thirteen

The knock on the door set us both off by quite a bit. I was right in the middle of, well, pleasuring Ritchie, and somebody wanted to get in the room. Thank god whoever was knocking couldn’t see us from the doorway. “Just a second!” Ritchie cried.

  I quickly stopped doing what I was doing and grabbed my clothes off the floor, helping Ritchie put his pants back on in the process. Once we were completely dressed I ran into the small and narrow storage closet in the corner of the room, closing the door behind me and preparing for the worst.

  I heard footsteps as the door creaked open, a booming and familiar voice echoing throughout the room. “Hello Mr. Starkey, how are you today?”

  It was Principal Wilson, the man I had just seen this morning. I wondered if he had come here for a reason; he obviously had. No principal would just waltz into a random teacher’s classroom for no reason. 

  “Just fine, Mr. Wilson.”

  “I came here to talk to you about one of your students.”

  “Ah?” There was the sound of something being picked up- probably Ritchie’s coffee. 

  “Yes, Mr. Harrison to be exact. George, is it?”

  “Mhmm, George it is.”

  “I got a recent report from a student that he was being picked on during class and out in the hallways.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm, and I’ve been reported that you’ve been there to help him.”

  I could just tell Ritchie was blushing. “Well, it wasn’t exactly what I’d consider helping-”

He was damn right at that. Fucking is helping. Well, it was, but not in a way the headmaster would approve of.

  “You don’t have to try and polite about it. I know you’ve been supportive of him, and I appreciate it.”

  “Well, thanks, Mr. Wilson.”

  “Anytime, Ritch.”

  I giggled. Ritch. Who the hell calls him Ritch? I accidentally giggled so hard that I slammed hard into the side of the storage closet, making an audible bang.

  “What was that?” Mr. Wilson’s voice echoed through the air.

  “What was what?” I could tell Ritchie was trying hard not to look over at the closet in which I was encased in. I had messed up and laughed, big deal. The matter of the fact was that it was funny, and I couldn’t help but laugh. If I was caught hiding in the closet, it would be entirely Mr. Wilson’s fault for making me giggle.

  “Anyways, I’ll be on my way.” I was relieved that this was Mr. Wilson’s voice, signaling that he was on his way. I was still nearly shaking with laughter from before, and it was quite a difficult task to hide how hilarious this whole scenario was. In a few seconds I heard Ritchie and Mr. Wilson exchange goodbyes, and then the door behind Mr. Wilson was closed. I nearly fell out of the closet giggling.

  “What the hell?!” Ritchie cried. “He could have found you!”

  I smirked. “I know.”

  “You know?” 

I nodded, biting my lip to hold back laughter. “Chea.”

  “I could have gotten fired, and you expelled! You wouldn’t have a job. There would be newspaper articles written about us, scandalous reports, and people would criticize the hell out of us! Hell, I might go to jail! It’s not funny, George.”