Cruel Intentions Ch. 39

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The next few weeks were tense. What with Nate and I being on non speaking terms. The fact that I refused to talk to anyone but Jamie- not even my poor new friend, Chris- seemed to put everyone on edge. It’s as if they think I’ll show up to school one day and go all Virginia Tech Massacre if someone even looked at me in a wrong way.

Get a grip people.

The way Mr. O’Brady and I became more volatile towards each other since the bank robbery was unnecessary but normal for two people who just went through a traumatic experience such as the one we endured. Those things always go two ways; A. you grow attached to one another- unhealthy. B. You avoid each other like the plague and fight like cats and dogs when you unfortunately run into each other- normal.

Well... Normal for me at least.

Besides, there’s no going back when you find out your calculus teacher prefers David Beckham briefs over boxers. It also doesn’t help when wandering eyes venture south and see how well endowed his very prominent southern region looked when the briefs he wore molded to him like second skin...

Well it’s enough to make a normal girl blush- and well- fawn over like a school girl. Me, though? I was mortified by the fact that every time I looked at my teacher, I imagined his man junk for a split second before our usual vehement vulgarity outbursts took place for mere seconds, sometimes minutes, before we continued on with our lives.

“What’s wrong with your face.” Mr. O’Brady chided as he walked passed me.

“Go die.” without vigor, I responded lackadaisically.

“Oye.” O’Brady grabbed me by my upper arm and yanked me around to face him.

“That was rude.” I muttered, keeping my wandering eyes away from anywhere that featured his body in general.

“Ignoring my question is rude.” He quipped, yet to release my arm from his vice-like grip.

“You didn’t ask a question.”

“Yes-...”

“No,” I cut him off sounding more worn out then I should be “You made a comment about my face, I know it’s pretty, but please try to contain yourself. I am your student after all.” I mustered up the best grin I could.

I yanked my arm when he gave me a flat look, dropping my own fake grin.

“What I was trying to say... is... you look dead.” His pauses weren’t for dramatic effect... more like, trying to find the right word to describe... me? with.

He tanked.

“Nice.” I snapped and smacked his hand in my futile effort for him to let me go.

“No.” he made a frustrated growl in the back of his throat while his other hand reached up, grasping my chin, and forcing me to look over and up at him for the first time throughout our entire exchange. “It’s not coming out right.”

“That sounds so wrong on so many levels, it’s retarded.” I responded bluntly while closing my eyes.

“Completely obvious why English wasn’t your major... You suck with words.” I added as a last minute thought.

“Stop being utterly ridiculous! And why won’t you look at me?!” I swear O’Brady was moments away from stomping his feet in a tantrum.

At least that’s what I got from the tone of his voice.

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