strange love (halsey)

6

Sitting at the table in the far corner of the faculty lunch room, I picked and prodded at the limp pieces of lettuce in my bowl as the teachers chatted among each other.

The science teachers had their own table, similar to the math department with their own and so on for every subject. The art teachers usually remained in their classrooms during lunch hours, making me the only one at the table.

"Ashley, don't look so down. Come to the English department," My colleague laughed with a mouth full of spaghetti, waving me over. I smiled uncomfortably and trudged over to their table.

This was like a repeat of me sitting alone every day in high school.

"You art teachers really like your space, huh? Does it give you more time to be creative?" Mrs. Rickerman, an elderly English Literature teacher, chortled. Faking a laugh, I shrugged my shoulders and pushed my bowl of salad further away. It was becoming unappealing for me.

"I suppose so," I wiped my hands down on my pants and felt many pairs of eyes on me. My cheeks grew red and I ran my fingers through my freshly dyed black hair, trying to ease the tension for myself.

The sound of the lunch bell ringing cued many of the teachers to return to their classrooms, leaving me sitting beside Ms. Madeiras, a temporary substitute for the English teacher that was on maternity leave. Both of us had free periods since some of the seniors had gone on a week-long retreat, so we decided to stay in the lunch room.

She was a kind individual with bright eyes, tanned skin, and a curvy structure. Her thick, Brazilian accent peeked through each word she muttered, making it somewhat difficult to understand her. Nonetheless, her vocabulary is extensive and she has a way with words even though English isn't her first language.

"Ms. Frangipane, how are you today?" She smiled, pushing her thick hair behind her shoulder.

"Fine, thank you, Ms. Madeiras. What's it like being a substitute for so long?" I laughed, taking a sip of my water.

She smirked and fumbled with the stubborn packaging of her chocolate bar, struggling to open it. My fingers brushed against hers as I leaned over to help her, making me bite my lip in embarrassment.

"Nothing short of fun," She expressed with fake enthusiasm. "Oh, and you may call me Carla, but only if you'd like."

"Carla," I repeated after her, smiling shyly. "My name is Ashley."

She thanked me as I retracted my hand and she brought the chocolate up to her lips, taking a small bite. Humming as she tasted it, she offered me a piece which I declined gratefully.

"I don't think we've had one conversation together, Ashley. What a shame," She joked, licking her fingertips. I chuckled and watched her run her tongue along the chocolate-coated digits, pushing my thighs together in response. The result of not seeing Bella for a week included immense sexual tension and frustration, some of which I was feeling at that very moment.

"It is, huh? I've been missing out on the chance to get to know a very beautiful woman," I spat out nonsensically, mentally face palming myself afterward. Her eyes widened as she process my words, then she smiled bashfully.

"Beauty is objective," She smirked, "I see it in you, however, Ashley. Much of it, too."

Instinctively scooting my chair closer to her, I felt her gaze harden on me and her breathing grew irregular. I trailed my fingers along her thigh, seeing her shudder under my touch.

What was I doing?

"Ashley," She whispered hotly in my ear with her thick accent, making goosebumps prick upon my skin.