5:30 ; d.h

0.05

My car buzzed lightly as I drove away from the building. My mind wandered, thinking about school, my homework, Mr. Howell. Sooner rather than later my mind was solely on the subject of the dark haired man who played the piano with diligence.

I tried not to overanalyse the situation, I really did, but what has he really meant when he said he was looking forward to our session? Did he mean he was excited to see me, or just happy to be able to play in front of someone who respects his superior abilities?

I had to admit, Mr. Howell was plenty attractive in the facial region, but he had a great personality and a good sense of humor as well. He was easy to talk to, and every time I happened to talk to him, I got a feeling in my stomach I can't describe. His smile and laugh caused the feeling in the pit of my stomach to substantially expand into something more. It made me buzz with a mixture of happiness and excitement and I just wanted to make him laugh for the rest of time.

Mr. Howell gave me the same type of feeling I get when I'm in my room listening to music, safety and reliability. I felt like I could probably talk to him about anything and he wouldn't be the one to judge me for anything and would give me great advice.

My mind went off on its own, thinking about Mr. Howell and thinking about how great of a person he is. But there was a sliver of my thoughts that caused me to blush and shake my head. Don't think about that kind of thing, he is your teacher and mentor. Nothing more than that. Plus he's almost 5 years older than you! I silently told myself.

As much as I could try, the ride home was filled with this obnoxious image of Mr. Howell and I holding hands as we walk around town. I tried shaking it out of my head, but that sliver of thought created a gash in my brain that was specific to feeding my imagination with scenarios of Mr. Howell.

For fuck's sake. You don't even know his first name! I thought as I stopped my car in my driveway. I pulled the keys from the ignition and walked into my house.

"I'm home!" I called out to whoever could hear me. I put my car keys on the hook and shrugged my jacket off. It was strangely quiet, my mom usually would have greeted me by now. I walked down the hall and descended the stairs to the basement where my brother usually hung out. I opened the door and saw my brother and mom battling each other in a game of Super Smash Brothers.

"This is no fair! You've played longer than me and I don't know how to play!" My mother yelled at my brother, shoving his arms with her elbow to distract him.

"It's perfectly fair mom, and I'm going easy on you." Brent spoke with a chuckle.

"Mom, I'm home, just so you know." I popped my head in the room so she could see me.

"Hi sweetheart," She said distractedly, trying to keep her focus on the game at hand. I turned around and went back upstairs, knocking on the glass door that had its curtains pulled open so I could see in. I waved at my father when he looked up from the papers in front of him. He smiled and waved me inside.

"Hey," I said as I opened the door and walked to the brown bureau.

"How was piano practice?" He asked curiously, carefully penning a quick "97/100" on the paper in front of him. I assumed it was a test from one of his senior classes.

"It was good," I paused, thinking back about Mr. Howell's careful fingers again. "I learned a lot about fingers today." I said with a smile.

"Sounds like fun, is your teacher nice? I don't remember you telling me about it last time."

"Yeah, he's cool." He's so much better than just cool. "He's really good at playing, I think he told me last time that he has a lot of the Final Fantasy soundtracks memorized."

"I don't know what that is, Nova." He reminded me. Right, I forgot my dad is a forty-seven-year old man who teaches high school physics for a living. My dad was extremely smart, and had a particular interest in time-travel. When he wasn't grading papers and teaching the seniors at my high school, he was usually researching and developing theories on worm holes and space-time.

"Just a game. He told me he'll play one for me sometime."

"That's nice." He seemed slightly distracted by the marks on the test in front of him, so I turned around and started to leave.

"Talk more later." I said into the air, not knowing if he would hear it and reply.

"See ya," He mumbled. I walked out and down the hall to my room, switching the lamp on and opening my laptop. I pulled my phone out, starting a message to Juliana.

To Jules: Oh my God, help

From Jules: what do you need? What happened??

To Jules: I might be developing feelings for a man who's 5 years older than me. HELP.

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A/N: Remember to comment what you thought of this chapter and vote if you enjoyed it, friends!

xx. baehowell