Her First Bite

Twenty Eight | Gum

I could not stay here.

I wanted to leave.

Escape. Maybe travel back in time? To a time where everything was fine. To a time where we had never even been caught. To a time when everything, where all things, where we were together.

I wanted to travel back in fucking time, to a time when Vance would open my text messages.

Yep, that was right. The man hadn't been answering my text or calls for the past couple of days. After I had gotten out of that meeting with Dean Dickhead, I had sent him a simple text. A can we talk later? text. He hadn't answered me for six hours. Yup, six motherfucking hours. But at the time, I just thought oh maybe he was doing something or his phone was dead or something. Vance wasn't the type to be on his phone all the time - even though when we used to text daily, I never had to wait more than thirty minutes for him to answer back -, but I brushed it off and thought no biggie. I waited another hour, then double texted.

No text back.

Me still being a dumbass, texted him the next day and called once, then the next day after that I texted. Guess what? No fucking text back. It was now Thursday. When Wednesday hit, I was no longer in the oh he's just busy mindset. He was purposely ignoring me. Yeah sure fine, I ruined his life or something but if there was one thing I hated more than being called a slut, was being fucking ignored.

Tell me to fuck off or curse me the hell out or whatever.

I just couldn't stand being ignored. I knew I was part to blame for what was going to happen to him but he also needed to take into account that it was it requires two people to perform the act. Two people.

The main thing I was asking for was, communication. I wanted to talk to him. And with him ignoring me, that was not going to happen. Sue me, but I wanted to know how he was feeling. I wanted to ask him if he was okay. I wanted to ask him if things between us were going to change. I wanted to us to talk.

Thursday at school, I got lucky. I felt like I had one more life left. I was supposed to get my schedule changed the day after I had that meeting with the Dean, but they had been backed up with other issues, other students. And every morning - Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday - I got the same sentence told to me from a lady in the front office: come back tomorrow morning. And each time, I heard that sentence, a smile would form because that meant I still had one more time in his class.

Yes, I know I said all that shit about me being mad and screw him and blah blah blah. But I really, really, really wanted to talk to him - If he was still working here. I wanted to see him. I just wanted to be near him.

Blame my heart.

My oh so fragile heart.

And as I stated before, Thursday at school, I got lucky. Vance was here. Vance was in the class. Standing behind his famous teacher stove. Writing our plan day schedule on the board, like normal. He was actually here.

And I got excited. Then thought, maybe everything was going to be okay. Maybe the Dean was just pulling me leg and trying to scare me? Maybe Vance had got a new number or dropped his phone down the toilet so that's why he hadn't been answering my text or calls. Basically thought, that things were going to be fine.

Mind you, all those positive thinking thoughts were from me only being in the class for ten minutes.

The next seventy minutes was when the fuckery started to happen. And by fuckery - I meant Vance showing me the length of how his ignoring could go. The first mistake I made was moving my seat. Yes everyone already knew that I was a dumb bitch, but I was excited, happy, jumping off the walls because I thought everything was going to be okay hence why I sat in the front. We didn't have officially assign seats so people could switch anytime they wanted. And I wanted to be front and center and wanted Vance to see me front and center. And whew didn't I feel something. Note the sarcasm. The whole class, for seventy minutes - I felt invisible. When I would raise my hand, and wave boldly too, he would see right past it - like I was invisible - and pick someone else. When I called his name once to ask him for help on the dish we were preparing today, he held up a finger - which meant one second, but still never came over.