My Teacher, Louis Tomlinson

Chapter 19- (Re)building bridges

Skye's POV:

I crawled out of bed one morning at the ass crack of dawn groaning. Gary tried to rape me in my sleep last night, but I woke up as he started to... you know.

I'm a pretty heavy sleeper, but not THAT heavy.

This was at around 10:30 pm as well, and I was too terrified to shut my eyes after that so I basically pulled an all-nighter.

I fell asleep in Math about ten minutes into the school day. So that went well. I also ended up sleeping in English while the rest of the class read Romeo and Juliet aloud.

Luckily (or maybe not), the pimp posse decided to wake me up before the bell rang by smacking me with their pencils. That wasn't bad. When I finally sat up, Anika had grabbed one of the other girls' long, bendy eraser stick thing and proceeded to whip my face with it, the blow going straight across my eye.

That thing fucking hurt.

And that's why I skipped Spanish and went straight to the bathroom, trying to make the swelling go down so it wasn't noticeable. I skipped lunch as well.

Ten minutes before Music, I got a text from Mr. Tomlinson.

Tea after class today?

Uh, no. Why the fuck is he even texting me? I just decided not to reply. A couple minutes later he sent me this:

I need to speak with you either way.

Well fuck.

Mr. Tomlinson didn't really talk to me in Music or anything, but I stayed at my seat after class, being sure to keep my hand over my eye so he didn't see anything.

"Still not sleeping, eh?" He begins to pull out everything needed to make tea.

I looked up at him, surprised he asked, and was about to lie but right as I was going to, he cut me off.

"Don't lie. I have my sources."

I gave him a questioning look and he proceeded to tell me that my math teacher complained about me falling asleep in class just this morning, so there was that. All of a sudden, I felt the urge to cry.

"Uh, can I use the loo really fast?" I ask quietly.

He nods, and I leave my backpack there to show him I will be coming back.

By the time I get to the bathrooms, I have lost the urge. My injured eye waters anyways.

As I am walking back to class, I hear noise coming from around the bend in the hall.

"...She was out cold!"

Laughter.

It sounded like my English teacher.

"But really, have you ever met a more disrespectful student in your LIFE? It's like she doesn't even try!" His voice booms.

I frown. I do try.

"With all due respect, sir, she's great in my cl—"

"Of course she is, mhmm... so why did she do the same in math?"

"That's her business, not yours. She could be dealing with something that you have no idea—"

"I'm sorry to cut you off, but I really must be going. Good afternoon... Louis." He spat Mr. Tomlinson's name as if it were a sin.

Hm.

I decided to duck back into the bathroom until my English teacher passed so that he wouldn't see me and be all awkward.