Wild Life

Ten

"Uh, M- Mr. McCartney? Can I speak with you?" My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to fly out of my chest. Mr. McCartney was erasing the chalkboard, his back facing me.

"Yeah, yeah what's up?" He was still turned around, so he didn't realise it was me talking to him. I quickly start panicking. My thoughts begin running wild in my mind. I suddenly remember that I need to pick up my painting and some art supplies before my art teacher locks the door.

"You know what, I'll be right back. I just need to pick something up." He turned around before I could finish my sentence with a surprised but confused look on his face. I dash through the door and run down to the art room.

"Hey Val, I was about to close up." Ms. Smith says. I flash a quick smile her way as I hurriedly gather all my brushes which still had wet paint on them. Then I swiftly place my painting in it's safe holder, which keeps it from smudging.

"Bye Ms. Smith!" I yell as I run out the door. I slow down a bit when I turn the corner near Mr. McCartney's classroom. I take a couple deep breaths as I approach the room slowly. The whole school seemed to fall completely silent. All I could hear were hushed whispers from the other side of the hallway.

"Are you excited for the masquerade ball?" I hear a woman's voice say softly.

"Yeah, I've got some students in a band that are going to perform. It's going to be a knock-out of an event!" I could tell by the way he says "perform" that it's Mr. McCartney. I proceed toward the open door to his classroom, just barely able to see what was going on in the room.

"Well, I can't wait to chaperone with you. And if you're up for it, I'd love to have a dance with you as well." And that's when I see it. Ms. Asher was sitting on the edge of Mr. McCartney's desk, and he was leaning back in his chair. The corner of his eyes were wrinkly and his smile was like it was when him and I first met at the bar, seductive and flirty.

My blood felt like it was boiling, I felt embarrassed and furious. But why? I wouldn't be able to say why I feel this way, I just do. I then let my body take over my brain and I stood at the doorway, holding back any emotions that might peak through my eyes.

Ms. Asher's burning red hair flips over her shoulder as she stares right into my eyes. Then I look slightly down to Mr. McCartney. He seems shocked to see me back after the way I ran off.

"Well Paul, I'd be thrilled if you'd save me a dance at the ball this weekend, yes?" Ms. Asher gets up from her relaxed yet sensual stance that seemed to have enchanted Mr. McCartney to no end.

"I'll be happy to do so, Jane." He gives her a lustful wink. Ms. Asher begins to walk toward the door where I am, a touch of natural blush fills her cheeks and she giggles a little too much as she passes by me.

"Good to see you, Ms. Hollaway." She snickers past me.

"Yeah, you too." I give her a respectful grin. Forgetting the way she sneered at me, I turn my head towards Mr. McCartney, and the curl of his lips unravel. With heavy steps, I move towards him, nervous as hell.

"So, what can I do for you, Ms. Hollaway?" He says skeptically, focusing his attention on the mess he has on his desk.

"Sorry, I had to leave for a moment to get some of my art supplies. But, uh- umm- right, I was wondering if I can take some lessons with you on guitar. It's just something I've promised to do for myself and my mum." I can sense myself starting to ramble, which I do when I'm anxious. "So, uh, can you teach- "

"Listen, Valerie. I really don't think that's such a grand idea. There's just too much baggage and it could put my job on the line. Can't one of your mates do it? I know that both George and John know how to play, and I'm sure as their friend, they'll teach it to you."

"I've already asked. They both have band practice almost everyday. And if you ask if I have any other friends to teach me, I don't. Please Mr. McCartney, I'd only be asking you if it was my last resort." Never would I have thought to admit to a teacher, let alone someone I've once had romantic feelings for that I have no friends. He probably thinks I'm a bitch since I don't have friends except for John, who's also a bitch.

Mr. McCartney finally looked up from his desk, and for some reason he began to smile and give a short chuckle.

"What. What's so funny? You think it's funny that I don't have any friends?! Well it's not!" I swear I could sucker punch him right now, he's such a fucking dick.

"No, no please, that's not why I'm laughing. You just- um, you have paint all on your lip and chin. I swear." Mr. McCartney continued to chuckle.

"Oh, oh shit. Sorry about that outburst then. Shit. Shit. Fuck." Blood rushed to my face as I filled with embarrassment. I whipped out my bag to get my pocket mirror. Oh god, now he thinks I'm a bitch and a klutz. Now I get why Ms. Asher was acting like that. She could've at least given me a heads up instead of letting me humiliate myself.

"No, no don't worry about it." He rubbed the back of his sheepishly. "Valerie, I don't think I can do it alright. It's inappropriate and we could get into a lot of trouble."

"Why would we get into any trouble. I haven't told anyone about us, and I don't plan on telling anyone about us. Not even John, okay? Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No, it would put me in jeopardy. Ok, I'd lose my job, maybe even go to jail. I don't plan to tell anyone, ever."

"Okay, so I don't see a problem then. I'm not doing this as a ploy to get you to sleep with me or do anything like that. I'm serious about learning. I'll even pay you." I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, his droopy, doe eyes. And it seemed to have worked.

"Alright. I'll teach you the guitar. You don't have to pay me, just show up on time. I can meet every day after the last period, unless I tell you otherwise. Do you have a guitar?"

"I do. It was my father's. I just don't know if it's in good shape, it's about 25 years old."

"Well, bring it and I'll fix whatever is wrong with it. Now, I can't do any lessons this week, as I'm decorating the gym and recruiting bands for the masquerade ball this weekend."

"Right. Well, I guess I'll see you in class then." I bend down to gather my art materials.

"Will you be attending the ball?" Okay, this is an interesting question to ask as someone who doesn't want to get involved. Makes me think he wants me to go.

"Yeah, I was thinking about it. I'm not sure if I want to, or if I can." A slight grin creeps onto my face.

"I think if you go to it, it can help out with the whole "no friends" situation you have." His cheeks move up his face into his face, forming a smile much like the one he smiled at Ms. Asher with. You know, his flirty one.

"You think that'll help me? I would assume that it would make me not want to have any friends y'know, with all the drinking and dancing and such." I say with some sarcasm back at him.

"Well, it'd be nice to see you having a good time again." He tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers. I feel a warmth in my cheeks, a soft blush appears on them.

I shine a small grin in response, saying nothing more. I walk out the room with a sense of relief and a sort of freedom as well. I wouldn't think that I could talk to him ever but now I don't feel so guilty. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

As I left the building, the last thing Paul said to me continues to ring in my ears. "It'd be nice to see you having a good time again." Again? Again? The last time he saw me having a good time was when we were making out in a bar bathroom. Again? What could he mean by again?