I bought a sandwich for myself and Mr Cumberbatch and sat in the canteen, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Til there was only 7 minutes left until next period. It wasn't like him to stand me up. Perhaps, it's for the best. I was treading my steps carefully after my first infatuated encounter with him, it was best to keep my distance. Ha! Keep my distance! I'd offered to buy him food, what's wrong with me! I had to be more careful from now on with what I say and do. Still, there must be a reason he didn't turn up, and I had bought his sandwich. Always calling him, him felt more comfortable. Mr Cumberbatch seemed very formal for someone who looked almost the same age as me. Or maybe I didn't want to accept his position of authority over me as a teacher because I liked him. In these 5 days we'd talked quite a bit, about English, but also History, Science, world issues, feminism, atheism etc. The topics weren't always so heavy, we joked around too. We'd laughed together him and I. But that was as far as I was going to let it go. This was a one time thing.
That reminded me of the time; 6 and a half minutes til the bell went. I had to give the sandwich to him in his classroom.
I opened the 221B door, slowly. "Sir? I've got your sandwich?" I looked across the classroom. It was empty. In front of me, a few metres away, the closet door at the left of the classroom was open and the light was on, you could see stacks of red and blue files on shelves, but I couldn't see the whole room. I walked to the closet and went in,
"Sir-" There, lying on the floor with a metal shelf and tons of files on top of him was Mr Cumberbatch. He had a slight bruise on his head. Oh god no.
"Sir! SIR!" I leapt at him and put my hand over his bruised head, my arm behind his neck, cradling it. My other hand pushed the files and shelf off of him, and I held him by his hip and pulled him out from underneath, his head still nestling on my arm and shoulder. I moved myself away with my feet pushing the ground. I slid backwards, up against the wall. He wasn't opening his eyes. He looked like he was sleeping; his face calm and expressionless. The hand that was protecting his head was on his cheek now, it was quite cold, so I rubbed it. I then got his hand and rubbed it in between mine. I'm not sure if this helped with someone who was unconscious, but I'd seen it be done in movies. I carefully moved his head from my shoulder to the inner part of the side of my neck. I inhaled sharply. His nose and lips were gently placed upon my skin. No. I couldn't have him like this, but what else could I do? I couldn't place him on the cold, dirty, dusty floor could I? The sandwiches I had dropped on the floor while advancing at him had now caught my eye. They were safe in their plastic cases. l remembered his change in my pocket.
"Sir." I patted him on the cheek lightly with one hand.
"Sir." I whispered again in his ear. He didn't react. I was getting really worried now. Were these tears forming in my eyes? Oh no please, five days I'd known this man, it was from the dust in this stupid closet, it had got in my eye. I leaned closer to his face, my lips just above his ear,
"Benedict."
He shot up and gasped, his eyes open and darting around then looking at me, he scrunched his eyes close again, groaning at the slight pain in his head, where his hand now was, checking the damage.
"Sir you fell, you were unconscious, that shelf-" I looked at the fallen shelf surrounded by files and so did he. He looked back at me. He remembered something, and his eyes grew wider, in bewilderment.
"Alisha, you, saved me."
"No Sir I didn't I-" But before I could say anymore a body collided with mine and familiar arms draped around my back, sliding underneath mine. He embraced me. I was caught in a tight hug. His chin rested on my shoulder and his cheek pushed against mine. He exhaled and his breath tingled in my neck, I closed my eyes at the sensation, and put my arms around him as well. Then the bell rang.
We parted.
He broke away quicker than I did.
"I'm so sorry I um-" He couldn't face me, he was looking for words say, trying to find them at my feet. He was flustered.
"No it's fine, really." No it wasn't. How dare he touch me like that. But it was so nice. He was such a sweetheart. No. How dare he. It wasn't right. But we must've been roughly the same age anyway, I wasn't a child. Stop making excuses for him. Well he had just taken a blow to the head, so it wasn't entirely his fault. And he'd just apologised. I remembered the sandwiches.
"Sir, I bought you a sandwich." I nodded at the fallen plastic cases. "And oh hang on, I've got your change."
I reached into my pocket, still sitting down with my back against the closet wall, legs outstretched. I pulled out some coins, and handed them to him. His hand moved over to mine and scooped the change.
"I cannot thank you enough. I fear I owe you a lot in these five days than I do anyone in my life." He spoke with the utmost sincerity. His expression was grave. I couldn't stand it. I looked away and moved to get my sandwich. And handed him his, with a smile.
"I'm so, so sorry.", he said, reaching for the sandwich. "You didn't get to eat your lunch." He had more than just guilt in his voice.
"No it's fine." And then we heard chattering from outside the classroom. The kids.
"I should go." I said, standing up.
"Um yes, thank you so much for everything, tell your teacher it was my fault you're late." He started to stand too, but stumbled a bit, I grabbed his arm to steady him. Then I remembered.
"I have a free period now Sir, shall I get you first aid from the office?"
His face quickly shot up, his eyes flickered with hope, but it quickly turned into guilt again.
"No, no. You've done more than enough, and I've asked much of you, for which I apologise, I don't know why, but I feel more comfortable with-" He stopped. He realised what he was saying. I didn't want to know. But I did. I was curious, but I was a little scared. I composed myself.
"The class is waiting outside Sir and you cannot leave them, I will have to get you first aid." This truth was unavoidable. This we could not escape from. I had to do him a favour one more time. He realised this, and said,
"This is the last time you do anything for me, please." He looked at me with a worried expression. He didn't have to tell me twice.
"Of course. Ben- Sir." Shit. Before I could see his reaction I got out of the closet, grabbed my bag off the floor of the classroom with one hand, with my sandwich in the other, and got out. Here the waiting children chattered and chittered.
"You can go in." I told them. The queue rushed in. And I went for the office.
This was the last time I did anything for him, just like he'd said. Perhaps next time, he could pay me back, return my favours.
hello! i wanted to update it more because i felt like writing more, and i owe it to you guys anyway :) will update again soon!
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Mr. Cumberbatch (teacherxstudent)
Random"He looked at me, and I was afraid I would see an expression that said he had forgotten all about me." His name was Mr Cumberbatch, although I almost never called him that. ~ A story that contains twists and turns, conflicting emotions, and two peo...
