The Love of Art and War {s/t - completed}

15: Holding Up The Fort

"So, what do you think of the new art teacher?" Nahla asked, turning in her office chair. "He's cute, right?"

"Totally." I replied, because it would have been unnatural for me to say no. He was a cute guy; I could admit that he was cute, couldn't I? It would be more suspicious if I didn't, right? "I do miss Mrs Winters, though."

"You just miss her regime. You like having Mr Tobias around."

Sometimes I forget Eric's last name. Sometimes I forget that he was a teacher, and I had to refer to him as Mr Tobias. I didn't like it. Mainly because Brogan called him Tobias, but also because it reminded me, plain and simply, that he was my teacher. I didn't have to say it in class, because I never asked him to come over, never asked for his advice. I tried to distance myself from him as much as I could. And because Nahla, Chloe or Troy didn't really care about art the same way I did, Eric didn't have many excuses to come over to our table, either. "I guess," I tried to shrug off. 

"I can't believe he's been here for a week already." 

A week! Only a week had gone by? I had slept with Eric in under a week. I had stayed at my teacher's house twice! How had only a week gone by, yet my life had spiralled out of my control and got so much more complicated? If only Eric hadn't bumped into me at the start of the week, I wouldn't be in this situation. Would I? Eric said so himself, he saw me, he noticed that Brogan was violent, and mean. Would he have intervened at school instead? Would we be where we were now? Part of me thought that just because he caught me from falling, we got so much closer. But, who knew? I didn't like to think of the what if's, but life would have been different if Eric hadn't bumped into me. But maybe it wouldn't have. He'd already noticed me. Maybe we'd still be in the same situation. We'll never know. If people found out, not only would they say that I was a slut for sleeping with my teacher, but I was easy. I wasn't easy. "Me neither," I muttered, feeling the skin on the back of my neck grow hot. I didn't want this one, selfish act defying who I was for the rest of my life. I didn't want this ruining my life. Eric was saving me from Brogan, but he wasn't saving me from myself. I cared about what people thought of me – that's why I didn't tell anyone about Brogan. I was too stubborn and proud to admit to help, because I didn't want people to pity me, I didn't want them to worry, or be sad, or try and help me to make themselves feel better. That wasn't who I was; not before my parents died, or after. 

"You already knew him, though, didn't you?" Nahla. Nahla Puth didn't like to beat around the bush. Nahla, who'd flashed me smiles and sent me knowing looks at the start of the week when I found out Eric was my teacher. Nahla, who had watched me go out to talk to Eric in the corridor had nodded her head, telling me I had to finish my conversation with my teacher when I'd looked back in through the glass in the door. Nahla, who knew very little about my life but who knew me. Nahla, my best friend.

I swallowed, trying to keep my tone even. "What makes you think that?"

"He had to stop himself from saying your name." Nahla answered. She must have seen my puzzled look, because she elaborated. "When we were late, because we stopped to talk to Jacen in the corridor." 

"He did the register. We were the only ones missing. He guessed that."

"He shouldn't have known which one was you. He said your name as he looked at you, Darcy."

"It was a coincidence."

Suddenly, Nahla looked hurt, as if she knew I was lying. I didn't want to lie to her, I just couldn't tell the truth. My life depended on it. My lies were always because my life depended on privacy. I couldn't keep the guilt at bay. She knew I was lying, and by the look on her face, for a moment, I thought she knew I'd lied to her often. "We both know that's not true," Nahla said after a moment. "I saw it on your face just as much. You know Mr Tobias from somewhere, don't you?"