1; How it All Began

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A relationship doomed from the start by cliché’s and taboos cannot be expected to have any potential to end well.

Every freshman that attended Anderson High thought he was a student when they first saw him. Every female freshman dreamt of him taking her to prom. Some female freshmen were even bold enough to ask him what grade he was in; others simple resorted to the gossip mill. However every single freshman found out sooner or later that the boy with the sexy hair-do and the tendency to dress semi-formal everyday was in fact a teacher named Mr. Sawyer. And I wouldn’t doubt that every female freshman died a little when they found out.

But of course Mr. Sawyer gradually fades into the background as just another teacher. He wasn’t anything exciting. He never sponsored any extracurricular activities; he never showed interest in chaperoning prom or homecoming; he never even came to pep rallies. His only positive attributes was the fact that his looks could kill and he was basically a shell for girls to dream about a tainted student-teacher relationship. However, in my three years at Anderson High, I’ve never heard about any type of scandal between him and a student. Not horribly shocking since most of the girls that go here are too smart for regular public school (therefore not dumb enough to get involved with a teacher), but still shocking for a male teacher of his appearance.

 [~]

It was the first week back from thanksgiving break and so far it had done nothing but rain. The first three days weren’t so bad, but today the rain was pouring down in gallons. From the beginning of school to the end the sky was a broken sprinkler system hell-bent on drowning the creatures on land. One of these creatures was called Allison Grant. Me.

I stood on the corner just outside my school starring in vain at the street. My cell phone had moot point in this weather so I had no way of knowing if my mother got my voicemail or not. My last class of the day was held outside in the covered courtyard, so I had no idea that they canceled afterschool activities until I showed up for basketball practice and realized I was the only one in the whole school. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I was the only student in the whole school.

I should have known something was up by the way the administration gave me funny looks as I walked around the heated building in shorts and a tank top with a pair of dirty Nike’s squeaking along the floor. But I’ve never been known to have much common sense, so I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late and the buses were long gone.

Without bothering to change back into street clothes I called my mom. She naturally didn’t answer so I just left a message saying that I’d be waiting on our corner and to please hurry.

My phone started vibrating in my pocket after ten minutes of waiting in the down-pour. I risked getting it wet out and checked the caller id.

“Mommy calling” it read.

With speed I didn’t know to be possible I swiped the phone under my hood and pressed the green call button.

“Hey, mom?”

“Hi Ally, I’m so sorry you missed your bus but I’m in a meeting right now, could a friend drop you off?”

I looked back at my desolate school parking lot. Only the teacher spots had cars in them.

“There’s no one here, mom. Everything was cancelled due to the possible hurricane.”

I heard her sigh and put her hand on the mouth piece. She said something, and a male voice replied, but it was all muffled. “I’m sorry baby,” she spoke into the phone, “This is a very important meeting. Why don’t you just stay and catch the activity bus?”

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