By the time I got home, it wasn't actually that late. To be exact, it was 8:47 when he pulled up a few houses down from mine. I could have stayed out later, but my Mom was gunning for me as it was, and I sort of wanted her to drop our conversation from this morning. He leaned forward and kissed me, smiling against my mouth.
"I don't want you to go." He breathed. He'd wiped off the majority of his make up, but the mascara still clung to his eyes, and his lips were still slightly stained red (though, that could just be where they were bruised. Oops.) I stroked his cheek.
"I don't want to go, either. I'll see you tomorrow, though." I said softly. He groaned and laughed.
"I forgot about that." He chuckled.
"It'll be fine. I mean...I won't say anything if you don't." I said. He looked at the deep purple and red bruises that stretched up both sides of his neck and sighed.
"No, but everyone else will." He murmured. I put my hand over his.
"It's fine. Nobody will guess anything."
"It's a bit of a coincidence though, right?" he said, concern filling his voice. I shook my head.
"Just make a joke out of it, and they won't suspect a thing. Y'know, hiding in plain sight and all that?" I said. He smiled and kissed me again, his lips lingering on mine.
"Go." He breathed. I squeezed his hand again and slid out of the car. He waved as he drove off and I walked home.
"Hey Mom." I greeted her warmly when I walked in the door. She hugged me and smiled.
"How was your day?" she asked brightly, and I was happy to hear that this morning seemed to be forgotten.
"It was fine, thanks." I said, leaning against the doorframe.
"You're home a bit late." She said, furrowing her eyebrows.
"It's only like, 9." I laughed. She sighed.
"I guess so. I don't know. Frank, can I say something without sounding like a horrible, domineering bitch of a Mother?" she asked. I nodded, worried about where this was going.
"I don't want you staying out late anymore. Just...come home from school okay?"
"What? Why?!" I said, outraged. She sighed, like she saw this coming.
"Because I don't know who you're with. If you bring your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend." I snapped. She rolled her eyes.
"Well, whatever. If you bring him here, and I meet him, then you can do whatever the hell you want. Until then, you're only allowed to school and back. If you want to see anyone on the weekend, you can, but you have to be back by 6." She said, her voice firm. I groaned and smacked the doorframe.
"Why can't you just trust me!?" I cried.
Granted, I knew that she had every right to not trust me – but she didn't know that.
"Because you're so different now! You're secluded and emotional, and you come home late with lovebites all over you, and you're refusing to talk to me. It's enough to make any parent worry." She snapped. I groaned.
"Mom, I'm sorry. I'll be less secretive."
"Good. And once you bring your friend over, you can do whatever you want." She said. I grunted unhappily and stormed out of the room, tears of rage in my eyes. I knew she had every right to be worried, but it didn't make it any less annoying. If anything, actually, her being right made me even angrier.
I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep until I woke up. I was still clothed and, if the time on my clock was right, running late. I groaned and rolled out of bed. Clearly, my Mom was still angry about the night before, because she didn't even bother waking me up. Nice one.
I slid off my jeans, and almost considered keeping the same boxers on, when I remembered what had happened last night, and quickly changed them – there were some things that you didn't want to go to school smelling of, and sex with your teacher was definitely one of them. I dragged on new clothes and stumbled downstairs, not saying a word to my Mother who, not surprisingly, didn't say a word to me, either. Not, at least, until I reached the front door.
