Only You (GirlxGirl)

Chapter 8

(Warning: mature content ahead.)

Within the next month, Miss Smith's dad died. The teacher who filled in for her while she was gone told us.
"Oh god," I said to Angela and Kyle.
"That's terrible," Kyle replied.
"I hope she's okay," Angie's eyebrows came together and I felt an overwhelming sense of dread within me.
"Shit, shit shit!" I said, running my hand through my hair. She wasn't okay, no way. She couldn't be, she had to be devastated. I felt terrible, and even more so because I'd been trying to avoid her outside of class and lunch since Homecoming, I hadn't even known anything was wrong with him still.
"We should send her a card or something," I mumbled to myself. "She probably needs all the support she can get right now." Angela looked at me with sympathy all over her face. I couldn't be there for Miss Smith and it broke my heart. I put my head in my hands and sighed.
"We can send some flowers to the funeral too," Angie suggested softly. So we did. I emailed her right after school, in the most professional student-to-teacher way I could. I told her we were all so sorry, that we'd miss her but we hoped everything was okay and I asked when/where the funeral was. A little while later she responded, saying she appreciated us keeping her in our thoughts and she let me know the place and time of the funeral. Angie came with me to pick out some flowers to send. We chose light blue flowers with huge petals and sent a card signed from me, Angela, Kyle, and unfortunately, Katie.
"I wish I could be there for her," I said to Angela as we left the florist.
"I know," she sighed.
"I don't know if I can do this thing with Katie anymore. It's not helping. I love Miss Smith."
"I know you do. It's your choice, Kam." She put her arm on my shoulder and I smiled sadly at her. I couldn't pretend to not be in love with her while she was going through such pain, I couldn't. But I could put it off until she came back at least.

The day we left for Thanksgiving break, she still wasn't back. Which was expected since her best friend and father had just passed away, she needed time and even though all the freshmen insensitively complained about it, we didn't mind. I missed her but I didn't mind. But, I had been unusually grumpy and sad without her around, which was pissing Katie off. As far as I knew she didn't know why I had been in such a bad mood, which made her even more mad. We hadn't been fighting or anything, I just hadn't been very talkative and I never wanted to do anything, so tensions were high between us, putting me in an even worse mood. But I did make plans with her the night of break, which I dreaded all day. So in art class, I was in an awful mood when a text from a random number popped up on my phone.
Hey, Kam. It's Miss Smith, I know this is rude of me to ask but, I've been out of school for a few weeks and I should probably do some grading before I come back after Thanksgiving. But I left all my papers and projects on my desk before I left. If you could, can you run them out to my house? If not it's okay, I'm sorry for asking.
My heart almost leapt out of my chest and an immediate smile spread across my face. I forgot she had my number, I had to give it to her once for float building. She still had it? Angie saw me smiling at my phone and raised an eyebrow.
"What are you so happy about?" she asked. I stopped smiling and shook my head. It probably wasn't a good idea to tell her I was going to Miss Smith's house.
"Nothing," I said to her calmly. When she stopped paying attention to me, I quickly responded to Miss Smith.
Hey, Miss Smith! No problem, just send me your address and I can be there at around 5 if that's okay.
My heart was thumping and I could feel it all over my body.
Yeah, that's great. Thanks a lot! Here's my address:
I smiled again to myself and started counting down the seconds until 5 o'clock. It would mean canceling my plans with Katie again, but it was worth it.
Once 5 o'clock rolled around I was already halfway to her house. My hands were sweaty and my heart was practically leaping out of my chest. I took a deep breath as I approached her road and smiled involuntarily. I was going to Miss Smith's house, I couldn't believe it. Get it together, I thought to myself, she's still your teacher and you're still her student. You're handing her her papers through the door and then you're leaving. When I was in her driveway, I wiped my sweaty palms on my tight-fitting jeans and opened the driver's mirror and fixed my out-of-place hair. I looked up at her house and smiled again. It was small but it was cute, it fit Miss Smith. In front of the beige house there was a small garden, although it was now dying since it was getting colder, I could imagine Miss Smith planting it and taking care of it and it warmed my chest. Finally, I turned my car off, grabbed the stack of papers from the passenger seat, left my phone there, not wanting anyone to interrupt. Angela and I had made plans to hang out so I just told my mom I was going there. I got out of the car and stretched. There was a sidewalk from the driveway that led right next to the garden and up to the small front porch. I followed it slowly, trying to calm myself, and then stepped up to her front door. After I rang the door bell once, I stood there waiting, my heart beating quickly.
"Come in!" I heard Miss Smith call from inside. Without thinking, I turned the door knob and stepped inside.
Her house was warm and smelled so sweet, like cinnamon almost. It was so open. The living room consisted of a long, light brown couch, a big, white chair, another loveseat, a see-through coffee table, and a small flat screen TV. The living room opened up into a small office corner with a desk, her computer, and a bookshelf, and the kitchen. To the side of the kitchen was a small hallway, one open door was a small bathroom. Next to it was a closed closet, and the rest of the hall was hidden by a wall.
Miss Smith appeared then, stepping out of the hidden part of the hallway.
"Sorry I was changing into some pants," she said bashfully. Her blonde hair was undone and slightly wavy, hanging over the light gray sweater she was wearing. The pants she had changed into were black joggers, and she was wearing white socks. I smiled because I never got to see her so dressed down. It was so cute. "I know I don't look very professional," she continued, looking down at herself after noticing me looking her over, "sorry." She had her hands in her pockets, and she looked so young.
"No it's okay, you look good," I smiled, my whole body warming with love for her. I shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly, not sure what to do.
"Oh, come in," she waved, walking into the living room and sitting on her couch. I slipped my black Vans off, revealing my black socks, and shrugged my dark gray windbreaker off, then followed her into the living room.
"You can set those on the coffee table if you want," she said gesturing towards the papers in my hand. So I did, and then sat down in the white chair, adjacent to where she was sitting.
"How are you?" I asked, taking a deep breath. Now that I was closer to her I could see the darkness of her eyes and almost unnoticeable traces of her smeared eyeliner. Now she sighed.
"I'm doing better than I was before. But it's still rough, especially with the holidays coming up." She was sitting cross legged, running her hands throughout her hair like she was nervous.
"I can imagine," I said softly, "I'm really sorry." She looked from her hands in her lap to my eyes, causing me to catch my breath.
"Thank you. I really appreciated the flowers and the card you guys sent me," she managed to smile slightly, but it didn't touch her eyes. "They're the only flowers I kept." Her eyes moved across the room and mine followed, there on a small table next to the TV were the blue flowers we had sent Miss Smith. I smiled.
"It was no problem, I felt bad that I couldn't help out more."
"You shouldn't. The card meant a lot."
"I wish I could've been there for you," I said, ripping my eyes away from the flowers and brining them back to hers.
"Me too," her voice cracked slightly. Her answer shocked me and on instinct, I stood up, and she did too.
"I should go," I whispered, looking at the door. But when I looked back at Miss Smith, there were tears falling from her eyes. I immediately closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her. She sobbed into the crook of my neck and wrapped her arms around me, grabbing the back of my black t-shirt. I'd never seen her cry before and I felt my own heart breaking as she breathed in sharply, and then continued to cry, quietly now, into my shirt.
"Let it out," I whispered into her hair, "it's okay, sweetie." I rubbed her back and let her cry for a minute before she pulled away. She wiped her eyes and sniffled.
"I'm sorry," she said, in the saddest voice I ever heard. She was still sort of crying and I was thinking about how beautiful she was and then, before I knew what was happening, I was kissing her. And then it was quiet. The sound of her sobs stopped, the rapid beating of my heart had slowed, and I stopped thinking. One of my hands was on the side of her face as I gently moved my lips against hers. I felt free, like the weight of everything that had been going on, the stress of loving her and being with Katie, the anger I had with everyone due to my own recent unhappiness, all of it, was gone. Kissing her came with a weightless feeling. Nothing was wrong. All that mattered was her. My stomach flipped, but it was light. I wasn't queasy, I was airy. Light. And she was kissing me back. Softly at first. I didn't want to rush into anything, I just wanted to take her pain away, if even for a second, and enjoy the feeling of being close to her. Her hands that had first been up and at her sides slowly wrapped around me, her hands found my shoulders and held on. I moved my hand from her face to her hair and let my other one rest on her waist.
She broke away momentarily, letting me go, to take a breath when I noticed I hadn't been breathing either. She closed her eyes, eyebrows coming together, and I let my hands fall. When we weren't kissing, my mind began racing again. What did I just do? Was that okay with her? It had to be, right? If she was kissing back it meant she was okay with it, it had to, right? Or had I imagined it? What was she thinking right now?
But then her eyes opened and she looked up into mine. I opened my mouth to apologize but she shook her head and brought her lips back to mine. I breathed in deep and began kissing her back, my hands running gently up and down her sides. Again, the kissing started off slow and gentle. But after a minute or so, she wanted more. Her tongue slipped over my lips and I felt my stomach knot and my knees get weaker. I returned the act, slowly putting tongue into our kisses, and she took a sharp breath again, slipping her hands under my shirt and grazing her nails over my back. I wanted her. But I didn't want this to be like every other time. She was important. And whether or not the feeling was mutual, I loved her. She deserved more of me than anyone else had ever gotten.
She pulled her head back to slow her breathing and I took the opportunity to kiss up and down her jawline, she let out a quick breath and tilted her head back slightly. I moved my lips right below her jaw to her neck as my hands wandered down her back, sliding over her behind. She dug her nails a little bit deeper into my back, so I continued on. I left kisses all across her neck before returning to the spot right below her jaw and using my tongue to suck softly. A small moan escaped her lips, her nails digging into me, and I smiled against her neck. It would be so good to please her. I kissed back up to her ear and she shivered.
"Is this what you want?" I asked quietly into her ear. She turned her head so that she could look me in the eye. Her brown eyes were hazy, lust-stricken, and I kissed her once, softly, and broke away again. She nodded her head.
"Not here though," she said, closing her eyes and swallowing. When she opened her eyes again she took my hand and led me down the hallway, we passed a closed door and then walked through a different door. Her room. She had a huge bed covered with red sheets and a huge, fluffy white comforter. It was slightly messy, some of her clothes covered the floor but it was cute.
"Don't look at my messiness," she smiled, kissing me, running her hands over my arms.
"It's cute," I teased, tickling her sides. She let out a loud laugh and tried pushing my hands away. I grabbed her wrists and looked into her eyes, smirking. Suddenly her eyes filled with lust again and I put my hands on her waist, pushing her towards the bed as our lips moved against each other hungrily. When I had her against the bed I pulled away, evening my breath and slowly slipping her sweater off, revealing a black bra with a bow on it. I tried not to get distracted by her decently-sized chest but found myself kissing over it immediately, wanting to remove her bra, but waiting. Miss Smith moaned while I trailed my lips across her collar bone and pulled on my shirt. As much as I had taken my shirt off in front of girls, I never stopped being nervous about it. Especially with her. I wasn't totally confident with my body and I was worried she wouldn't like it. But I took a deep breath and let her slide it up over my head and throw it to the ground. She looked over me momentarily and then let her lips wander over my neck and chest. My breathing quickened and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. Her lips were so soft, everytime they touched my skin I felt shivers down my spine.
Now she was experimenting, kissing and biting down on different areas of my neck until she found my sweet spot. A moan ripped through my throat and I put my hands in her hair. I felt her mouth curl into a smile against my neck and before she could continue, I pulled away and jumped into the middle of the bed.
"Come on," I smiled at her, beckoning her with my finger. She didn't hesitate. Within a few seconds she was in my lap and we were kissing again. I slid my hands between the waistline of her pants and her hips and slowly pushed them down, causing her to fall back flat onto the bed. I removed the sweat pants completely and tossed them to the side. Now she was laying in front of me, black bra and matching undies and knee-high white socks. I looked her over before bringing my lips back to her neck, earning a series of moans and whimpers from Miss Smith. Then I kissed down her chest and lifted her up slightly so I could undo her bra. In a few seconds, my lips were at her navel and my hands were in between her thighs. Before I went any further, I asked again.
"This is what you want?"
"Please," she said, almost squirming. And that's all I needed.
Being with her was the best feeling in the world. There was nothing else in the world but her and I. Everything felt right, she felt right to me. Although I wanted to make her feel good, I also wanted her to feel loved. So accomplishing both meant soft murmurs into her neck as she gave in to me, and telling her how beautiful she was because god was she beautiful. When she quit digging her nails into my shoulders and her words of ecstasy stopped, so did I. As I made my way back up to her, she rolled over, covering her face as if I hadn't already seen the redness of her cheeks. I ran my fingers along her spine and smiled to myself.
"Brooke," I said out loud, wondering if it was an appropriate time to call her Miss Smith or not.
"Oh my god," she said into her pillow. We didn't say anything for a minute, both of us probably wondering what should happen next, but then I noticed the goosebumps on her skin and I laughed softly. I hopped out of bed and looked around for her sweater, then picking it up and bringing it over to her.
"Here, roll over," I said gently, nudging her. Surprisingly, she did. I slid the sweater over her head and let her adjust it herself. I was still in my underwear and my bra, which made me feel weird, so I scooped my shirt up too and put it on. When I looked back at Miss Smith her lower half was covered by her comforter and she was sitting up with her head in her hands. I sighed and sat down next to her.
"Fuck," she said angrily. Up until a few moments prior, I had never heard her swear before. I was still shocked by what had just happened and so was she.
"Are you okay?" I asked, not sure what I was supposed to say.
"No," she laughed ironically. "Do you know what we just did? How much trouble I could get in?"
"Yes," I said slowly, "and yes. But-"
"But nothing," she laughed again, lifting her head and looking at me, her eyes shining. "This was a bad, bad thing to do. I'm so sorry, I should have controlled myself, I should have never invited you here it was so inappropriate. I'm so so sorry, shit!" My genuine happiness and content faded as she spoke. She would regret it even if it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
"Um, uh," I cleared my throat blinking back tears, "you don't have to worry. No one knows I'm here and I won't tell anyone, promise." When I met her eyes they had softened, the anger swept off her face.
"Kameron-" she began.
"No, no, it's okay, don't worry," I got up and slid my jeans on. The idea that the only reason this had happened was because she was vulnerable and not because she loved me like I loved her overwhelmed me and I felt tears well up in my eyes. Being so close to her, only to have her feel remorse... no. I wouldn't deal with it.
"You don't have to... I didn't mean to-" she was shaking her head and reaching out her hand. I wanted to take it. I wanted to jump into bed with her and wrap myself around her and never have to deal with anyone else ever again. I wanted to make her understand how much I loved her. But I realized at that moment that what seemed like a meaningful experience for me was probably nothing more than a terrible mistake to her, and I couldn't handle it.
"Goodbye, Miss Smith," I tried not to cry as I ran out of her house.