My Hot English Teacher Loves Me...He Loves Me Not [7]

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"Hayden," I gasped.

Mr. Miller shot up as if he had just been bitten by a rattlesnake. I stared up at him as he watched the doorway.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked, my voice trembling. The doorbell rang. Oh my God. I had just freaking made out with my English teacher and now we were both hiding from my older brother?

"What do you mean? I'M going to answer the door and YOU'RE going to get your bag from my bedroom," he said, in a stern tone, not making eye contact with me.

"But I-." I was at a loss for words.

"But nothing," he said firmly. "Nothing happened here."

"Huh?!" Nothing happened? NOTHING HAPPENED?! Yeah, nothing happened since he was trying to take my shirt off...OK, fine.

"My room's upstairs, first room on your left," he said, still not looking at me and making his way to the door.

I stood there for a while, rooted to the spot, still wondering what was going on. OK, what the f-. You know what, forget him, I thought, fighting back tears. "First on my left. OK," I said, standing and making my way towards the stairs.

"Yeah," Mr. Miller muttered. He had a disgusted look on his face. Now he finds me disgusting?

I sped up the stairs and made my way to the first door on my left, as I was told. I didn't turn on the light, thinking that I would adjust to the dim room, but unfortunately was wrong. I didn't see the small bedside table and stumbled, knocking down several things with me. I got up, rubbing my knee and making sure not apply pressure on my burnt hand as I stood up.

I picked up the alarm clock, small watch and picture frame I had-. What was that? A picture? I looked around the room to make sure no one was looking and gently closed the door behind me. I flipped on the light switch and the room was illuminated with a warm yellow glow. I looked into the picture and saw Mr. Miller, wearing a red V-neck sweater vest with a white dress-shirt sticking out at the collar, black slacks, and shiny black dress shoes. He was wearing a huge grin, and had his arm wrapped around a -. Blonde? She was wearing an extremely skanky black strapless dress and was smiling as well.

As I stared at the picture, my eyes became flooded with tears. Why the hell was I crying? Of course he had a girlfriend, maybe even a wife. Why had I expected any less? He was an hot older guy, and I was his young student. He probably just wanted a fun night and -That's it!

Asta-Lavista BIATCH!

That's what I was to him. A one-night stand. Whatever, I thought, grabbing my bag from the corner and replacing the picture where it had fallen from. Fuck it. I turned off the light switch and made my way out of the room. Downstairs, Mr. Miller was talking to Hayden, and they seemed to be getting along. Lying bastard, I thought, as I saw Mr. Miller's face light up with laughter at one of my brother's all-too-lame jokes.

I came down, head held high, and said, "Let's go, Hayden."

"Alright," he said, standing up and patting Mr. Miller on the back.

"Thank-you for the dinner, Amethyst. It was delicious," Mr. Miller said, smiling at me.

Mother-. "Yeah, she's a fatso, LOVES to EAT more than anything," Hayden jokingly interrupted.

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