Mr. Gilinsky // book i

part viii

part viii

Tears On The Runway- Issues

I woke up to the sound of Alaska crying, her chest heaving as she breathed quickly.

“Baby, Why are you crying?” I asked her, my hand running down hers, her body thrashing away from mine on the hotel mattress. 

“Don’t touch me!” She yelped, crawling backwards until she hit the end of the mattress.

“Wha-What did I do?” I questioned, rubbing the sleep out of my eye. 

“You-You tricked me! You deceived me!” She cried harder, her tears soaking her face and her shirt.

“What? No I didn’t, Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said slowly and calmly. Deceived her? Tricked her? 

“Really? Tell me what these texts are about!” She tossed me my phone, before running into the bathroom and locking the door. I sighed, and grabbed my phone to see what she was talking about. I unlocked it, it immediately opening to my texts with Sam. 

Sam Wilkinson: Dude… Hot tub sex is so hot. She was good right? Shit. I forgot Sam had texted me earlier and asked me about what we did today, and fell asleep before he could respond.

Sam Wilkinson: Dude you there?

Sam Wilkinson: Oh i get it, you’re doing the do. Tell me about it later man

Shit. I looked up at our texts earlier than that, suddenly knowing why she’s upset.

Sam Wilkinson: So bro, is she just a side hoe or

Me: Yeah man, She’s just a good fuck. She’ll be out when I’m done with her.

Lie. Biggest lie I’ve ever told. If I told Sam the truth, I would never hear the end of it, That I’m ‘whipped’. I locked my phone, and gently knocked on the bathroom door, the sound of water splashing around was the only response.

“What more do you want from me?” She asked tiredly, her voice croaky, and broken sounding.

“Can we please just talk?” I whispered, resting my forehead against the door. The sound of water splashing was apparent as she got out of the tub and unlocked the door, before slipping back into the tub.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked her, her lips on the gold rimmed fluke. She sipped at the vodka in her glass, the bottle of Skyy sitting at the edge of the tub, where we left it, last night. 

“No. Now talk.” Her face screwed up in disgust at the vodka, before downing the rest.

“It—That was not what it looked like.” I clarified.

“Yeah, sure. Thats what they all say.”

“I’m serious. I couldn’t tell him that–“

“Tell him what?” She sneered, drawing the tub, her naked body covered in suds and water distracting me. She dried off and slipped her shorts on and a sweatshirt on, leaving her hair in a bun.

“Tell me, or I’m gone.” She said, her feet slipping into her shoes, her bag slung over her shoulders. 

“I—“

“Go on. Spit it out.” She said bluntly, her hand on the door. 

“I’m sorry I– I can’t.” I sighed sadly. She shook her head in disbelief, or disappointment. Probably both.

I sat on the edge of the bed in just my pajama pants, I have to tell her. I ran out of the room, leaving the door open, skipping the elevator and heading straight for the stairs. I ran down the several flights, my adrenaline bursting once I hit hit the ground floor, bursting out from the heavy metal door causing people to look at me.

“Alaska!” I shouted, her body heading for the door, before turning to me.

“Baby.” I called, breathless, my chest heaving her eyes wide at the fact that I came down. 

“Please come talk to me,” I tried to hold in the tears, I bit my lip to stop the trembling.

“Okay.” She glanced around the room to see people staring at us, before taking my hand, and following me to the elevator.

We stood in there, in complete silence the elevator beginning to shake before completely stopping. 

“Great.” She muttered, pressing the service button. The call started, the service guys telling us it’d be about an hour.

We stood there for a moment, before she turned to me and hugged me. Not just a small short hug, a long, tight, warm one. Her head rested on my chest, tears rolling down my bare chest, mine hitting her head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.” She laughed facetiously, her eyelashes fluttering on my skin.

“Alaska,” I whispered, her head leaning up towards me, making eye contact.

“I’m feeling things fro you.. that a teacher should not feel for his student.”

this is incredibly short im so sorry