[Warning Labels] - {A Student/Teacher Romance}

(Gwen) - The Unfortunate Back Story

   (Gwen)

   The Unfortunate Back Story

    As Gwen Carrington; a straight A student, model citizen, bookworm, violinist, drummer, and an average part of the Morris High social circle – I have to admit that certain things are expected of me from all sides.

   My mother, much like my teachers, expects excellent grades and a long list of extra credit assignments to be completed. She also expects me to be a well-rounded person. This includes, but is not limited to; playing an instrument (she prefers the violin), reading books well above my grade level, doing volunteer work, having a part-time job, social activities with friends, completing a weekly chores list, and spending time with her once a week.

   My teachers expect the usual, and then some. Beyond outstanding grades, taking up every bit of extra credit they dish out and always showing up for class three minutes early; they also expect me to offer assistance whenever they need it, run errands, and preform my student librarian duties with perfection and excellence.

   My friends are a whole other story entirely. They expect me to be my usual, utterly predictable yet still fun loving self; somehow managing to help them whenever they need it most, and tell a funny joke to make Jenna (one of my closest friends) shoot milk out of her nose during lunch.

   I am by no means an ‘over achiever’. What I will say about myself is that I am a ‘people pleaser’.

   When I do something, whatever it may be, it creates expectations. My problem lies in continually, yet unintentionally, striving to live up to those expectations. This in turn causes them to expect more out of me, and I continue to strive for their approval. It’s a never ending cycle that, no matter how hard I try to, I can’t escape from.

   The only thing I have in my life that doesn’t lead to some sort of expectation is Cormac Taylor. When I was fourteen he moved in across the street, just months after my father had left us for a woman named Rosa who worked in a Mexican bar down town. We rode the bus together for the remainder of Jr. High, chatting a little here and there while we waited patiently at seven fifteen for it to arrive.

   When High School started we found out we had the same home room; he sat behind me and the rest is history. He became my best friend faster than any human being on the planet ever had. He was lazy, only ever doing the bare minimum, right down to combing his hair (once a week, tops). But it wasn’t just that. He was smart, and that’s saying something coming from me. I always thought my knack for learning was strange, but Cormac was just as capable as I was. He was also supportive and laid back, never getting upset about anything.

   But the best part about him, the part that made me fall in love with him, was the fact he never expects anything out of me. From the moment I met him he’s constantly told me to “please myself before others” and “don’t do things because I think I have to”. The first time I got him a birthday present he seemed so shocked, which I figured would happen. But I thought the next year he would be expecting one, so I got him another (concert tickets, he took his girlfriend at the time). What I didn’t think would happen; he acted just as surprised as the first time. He’s continued to be surprised by every nice thing I do for him; always and without fail.

   I became addicted to the expression he’d give me – eyebrows raised, green hazel eyes wide, the left side of his mouth tweaked up in a half grin. I found myself constantly searching for ways to see it again. I’d started buying him Christmas presents, making homemade candy for him on Easter and Valentine’s Day, offering to watch his little sister for him on the weekend even when I knew he was going out to see another girl.

   Any possible way I could help him, do something nice for him, I would take it. Sometimes I even created a situation to do so. Like when I hooked him up with Emily Paxton knowing he had a crush on her, but also knowing she never stayed with any one guy longer than a month. I felt absolutely horrible and insane for doing something like that, but forgot to even care when he knocked on my door a month later and I gladly cheered him up with jokes, funny movies, and plenty of popcorn fights. Every little thing I did that made him smile or laugh caused that wonderful expression to cross his soft and boy-ish features.

   Now, by senior year, I knew full-well I was in over my head. I’d slipped, tripped, fallen for him and had no intention of ever getting back up. Our last year of High School would be dedicated to making him fall for me. I’d already laid so much ground work I thought it was going to be a snap.

   Yet I had been horribly, horribly wrong.

   The weekend before the school year started I’d come home late from work at the coffee house on Delta Street. I’d been on my feet for ten hours straight and was so tired I actually stumble through the front door of my house. Kicking my shoes off as I headed to the kitchen for some dinner, I passed the living room and saw Cormac sitting on the couch.

   Most of the lights were off, only a lamp in the corner was illuminating his features. He was grimly staring off into space, looking torn by something and shattered by something else. I don’t know why it felt like the two were unrelated, they just did. I knew Cormac well enough by now to be able to feel that much. I hated myself for it, but the first thing that came to my mind was how perfect the timing was. That shattered vibe rolling off of him could only mean one thing; his most recent girlfriend, Jessica, had broken up with him (probably because he wouldn’t get a job and buy her nice things, she complained about that a lot).

   I made a move to step forward, but stopped when my mom entered through the dining room carrying two steaming cups of coco. She smiled softly – comfortingly – and my heart froze at the way this made Cormac tense up. His hands shook as he took the offered coco, a look in his eyes I knew all too well as his gaze took in my mother’s small form. Being that it was ten thirty at night, she was already in her usual blue silk robe that hugged and exposed every perfect curve of her body. I realized what Cormac saw when he looked at her, and the fact that it was her waxing day didn’t help. Her long, tan, glowing legs looked flawless in the dim light of the reading lamp.

   I swallowed a lump in my throat, my chest constricting painfully.

   “Oh, hi honey!” My mother greeted me brightly when she glanced over the back of the couch and saw me.

   “H-Hi,” My voice shook. It was all I could do to stand there rigidly, awkwardly staring at them like I had just seen a ghost.

   “I’ll leave you two to talk. Why don’t you finish up this hot chocolate for me sweetie? I really shouldn’t be drinking it anyway; it’s not in my diet plan.” My mother smiled kindly, setting her steaming hot cup on the coffee table as she got up to leave.

   “Lynnie, a woman like you couldn’t ruin her figure if she tried.” Cormac grinned wickedly, blowing on his coco while he gave her a devilish stare. God, when his eyes were like that it felt as if he should just go ahead and do her right in front of me! It would have been just as awkward.

   My mother laughed lightly, moving around the couch to pass me as she headed for the stairs. “It only seems that way because I watch my figure. But thank you for the compliment. You two don’t stay up too late, alright? And be sure to call your mother if you decide to stay the night Cormac!” Her voice got louder as she made her way up stairs, and we both listened until we heard her door close.

   “Is that an offer?” Cormac mumbled under his breath, probably thinking I couldn’t hear him. Even then the smirk on his face said it all.

   This was the start of my worst nightmare. Instead of falling for me, like I had been planning on, Cormac had fallen for my own mother. And because he couldn’t have her he would want her that much more. I didn’t believe in a million years my mother would do something like that, but I knew for a fact that wouldn’t stop Cormac from trying.

   Welcome to my not so normal, sadly strange, profusely pathetic life. If only I had known then that things could actually get much, much worse…