Skylar • Ethan Dolan

3

                  

Lmao I guys, this story will have a bunch of sexual scenes in it so you've been warned but hahah I've already written the whole fanfic ages ago and only now have I decided to publish it. So let me know if how regularly you want chapters to be posted xxx

Phone calls. We were allowed two, one at 8am and the second at 8pm, to call our parents, friends or other family. Everyday since I'd been here I'd tried calling my parents, but they didn't answer once. They were probably busy with some work stuff, as usual. So each time, I found myself dialling my best friend, Oliver's, number.

"I hate it." I complained. "Come get me and bring me home."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. You know I can't do that, though, your mom would slaughter me." He explained dramatically. I could mentally see him with his hands in the air.

"No, my mom would pay someone to slaughter you." I corrected him, and heard his laughter on the other end of the line, along with my other friend, Jenna.

"Please, Oli. I miss you." I whined after a moment of silence.

"I miss you too, Dee bu-" Then suddenly the line was cut. I hated it when that happened. Nobody would give us any warning, the line would just die off.

I sighed and walked out of the telephone room, walking toward a bench in the middle of the school grounds.

Hundreds of people were around as usual, getting on with their lives. It'd been three days and I was already feeling extremely homesick. I don't know why. I mean, I didn't miss my parents and I'm sure they didn't miss me. I had nothing back there. Except Oli and Jenna, of course.

The bell rang across the grounds, indicating the beginning of first hour. I picked up my bag and took out my schedule, smiling to myself when I realised I had art. I enjoyed art. It was the only lesson I'd actually attend back at my old school. And I was pretty good at it too, I guess.

I'd found out that there wasn't just one building that made up the school, but several. Each one was for different subjects, some hosting more than one. I saw a girl I recognised vaguely from one of my classes the day before, so I followed her in hope that she would be heading to the same lesson I was. I was right. She had art too.

The building was much more colourful than the rest and the walls on the inside were decorated with art work by students. I was in room 72 for this class, and it was on the ground floor.

I walked inside to see a completely different room set up. The tables weren't in rows but were pushed together so a total of eight people could sit at a desk. The chairs were high, and were bright luminous orange. It was really nice. This was possibly my favourite room and, to top all things off. Mr Dolan waltzed inside.

He smiled at everyone and stood at the front of the room. I'd taken a seat closest to the front, but I wasn't expecting him. Was he a substitute or something?

"Well, I teach this class English. So you already know my name." He announced, placing his hand on a pile of black hard back sketch books that were piled up on his desk. "I want each of you to collect one of these, then we'll begin the lesson."

And so everyone, except myself, got up and took a book from the pile. That's when he noticed me. There was only one book left on the desk, the one I hadn't retrieved.

"Come and get your book, Skylar," He held it up with a sigh. "Don't make this hard."

"I'll make you hard." I giggled suggestively, adding a wink to my comment. Most of the class snickered. He shot me a glare.

"I have my own, Mr Dolan." I told him, taking the book out of my bag.

"I want you to use this for the work you'll do in here." He replied, then walked toward the desk I was sat at with a couple of other people. I felt his chest touch my back as he leant over, placing it onto the table in front of me. My breathing hitched and I bit my lip.

"Okay, now I want to see what you all can do." I hadn't even realised he'd migrated back to the front of the room, the burning sensation on my back still lingered. "I want you to create a front page for your sketch book with your name included on it and, maybe the subject name. Make it yours. Art is about expression." He explained, opening the front of another sketch book. Except this one had a crimson red hard cover.

"This is mine. For example, I like Nirvana. Therefore I drew on the logo." I opened up the cover on my own sketch book. "What defines you as a person? Think about that." Then he closed his book and put it down. "Oh and, feel free to use whatever materials you find in this room. This is just as much your classroom as it is mine."

I wanted to use paint, so I got up and wandered around in search for some. When I did, I sat down and got started on the task Mr Dolan had set.

The paint was really hard, but it was the only one of the certain colour I could find. I began to get frustrated, as it was making a mess of my sketch. "Skylar, is everything alright?"

"No." I huffed, slumping down in my chair.

He chuckled, "Stop sulking. What's the matter?"

"The paint is like...Stuck." I pointed to the pot, and he picked it up to look inside.

"It's okay. It just needs to be a little wetter." He nodded, sticking his finger into it.

"I'm wet enough." I stated bluntly, raising my eyebrows.

He leant to my ear, placing one of his hands on my shoulder. "Stay behind after class." He whispered, making me shudder.

I smirked, "Yes, Sir." And then he walked away to fill the paint with some water.

Class couldn't finish soon enough. I packed my things away with everyone else but stayed seated as they all filed out in a less than orderly fashion. "Close the door behind you please, Martha." He called out to the last student to leave. And she did as he said, closing the door behind her.

"So, you teach art too, huh?" I nodded in approval. Favourite lesson, favourite teacher.

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes. Bastard.

"What did you want, Sir?" I leant my chin onto my hand, still resting on the table.

"We need to talk." He paced towards me, his hands behind his back.

"Oh, really?" I pushed myself backwards against the back rest, folding my arms smugly. "About what?"

"I don't want you to speak to me like that again in front of the class, is that understood?" His face was serious. Too serious. I laughed.

"What do you mean?" I knew exactly what he meant.

"The sexual remarks have to stop. It's inappropriate. I'm a teacher, which means I'm an authoritative figure and I don't appreciate it when you speak to me like that." He placed both hands onto the desk, leaning forward on them.

"I don't want to hear it again, are we clear?"

"Crystal." I smiled, shrugging. "Can I leave now? I'm missing out on some really important Religious studies."

"Yes, you're free to go. I think you need a bit of Jesus in your life."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen anything yet."

"I'll see you last thing, Skylar." He nodded, dismissing my comment.

"I'm sure you'll miss me while I'm gone." I winked at him, walking backwards toward the door. "Thinking about me, touchi-"

"Skylar, what did I say?

I thought of a smart-ass response and then coughed a little, putting on my best Jersey accent. "I don't want you to speak to me like that again in front of the class, is that understood?"

"Get out of here, trouble." He said with a sigh. I had him there.

And boy, did he know it.