(Idk why I get butterflies whenever I look at that picture above, his eyes are just so pretty <3 )
--- --- ---
As the natural daylight crept through the slivers of the blinds, I shielded my eyes and groaned painfully. Through squinted eyes, I peered round the room and forgot where I was for a few seconds.
As I tilted my head to the left and acknowledged Alison's empty bed, a hazy image of Mr Bateman's eery grin, leaning over me, came and went in my mind like a snapshot.
Shuffling around uncomfortably, I forced myself upright into a sitting position and rested my pounding head in my hands. And then, gradually, the details revealed themselves in my foggy mind as if I was hungover and recalling events from the night before.
I could remember small details but, no matter how many times I tried to reorder them in my head, nothing would create a coherent scene in my spiralling thought process.
Most prominently, I could remember the immense gut feeling I held in the pit of my stomach and the ineffable notion that something very precious to me was slipping out of my grasp. Mr Bateman, behind me, his voice so stiff and stern. The memories kept flooding back, and it strained me to think about it.
My eyes automatically widened when my vision landed on the alarm clock. It was 9:37 and my first lesson started at 9 o clock.
Forcing my body to wake up, I swung my legs over the bed and heaved myself up, taking a couple of seconds to rebalance myself as everything began spinning.
Not even choosing my outfit properly, I threw on some basic clothes, vigorously tugged at my hair with a brush, quickly brushed my teeth and left.
Speed walking and still feeling quite weary, I charged all the way down to my German lesson that I knew was happening. Once I was in view of the classroom, I caught glance of Mr Bateman through the door window teaching, with that charming grin on his face, and immediately felt like I was going to be sick. Nevertheless, I stumbled to the door and shakily pushed it open. All eyes in the room landed on me and I swallowed hard in attempt to scare off that lump in my throat which felt the size of a pomegranate.
Mr Bateman glanced at me casually and took in my rough state, looking unsurprised in contrast to just about anyone else in the room. He cocked an eyebrow, his half upturned smile never fading.
"Chelsea", he announced with light sarcasm, just as any normal teacher would when one of his student's was late, "Nice of you to join us".
I furrowed my eyebrows at him, feeling confused and slightly offended that he would make such a whimsical comment about my lateness after he must have had some idea of what happened to me last night and didn't seem, in the slightest, remorseful.
My eyes wandered over to Alison who was staring at me with concern. I took the seat next to her and, just like that, Mr Bateman continued to talk about some basic German starter words on the slide show at the front.
"What the hell happened to you last night?" Alison hissed, "I fell asleep at midnight and you still weren't home, so I assumed you'd be there when I woke up. But nothing. Just an empty bed".
Her words sank through my body like ice that was on fire. If I wasn't back until after she had left, then where the hell was I all night? Sickness rushed over me but I gulped it down again, ignoring the flood of warm saliva that crept up my throat every time I swallowed.
"Chelsea?" Alison nudged me gently, "Are you okay? You're sweating".
All I could do was give her back a slight nod. I had a bad feeling that, if I tried to say anything, I would inevitably gag and probably throw up.
My breathing was hitched and I could feel that awful collision of feelings in my stomach rising to my chest, and then my throat, and then-
"You're ghost white", Alison remarked worriedly, "Do you want me to-"
I suddenly pushed my chair out as I abruptly stood and sprinted to the door, thrusting it open and rushing to the bathroom as quickly as I could. I was holding it all in my mouth and it tasted disgusting.
When I made it to the toilet, I didn't even shut the door behind me before unleashing the vomit into the bowl. Thankfully no one was in here.
I groaned, leaning against the toilet for a couple of minutes in heaps of sweat, and when I was finally ready flushed it. I caught glimpse of myself in the mirror and grimaced at the state. I looked as if I was having the worst hangover in the world, or on a comedown from drugs.
I splashed tremendous amounts of cold water over my face and rinsed out my mouth multiple times until the vile taste was rid of. I gave myself one last scorn in the mirror before bracing myself and walking out of the bathroom, weakly pushing the door open.
When I walked past the door and it began to close, I physically gasped when a pair of familiar brown eyes were right next to me, only centrimetres away from my own.
"I would've come in but a male teacher going into the female bathroom would have looked a little strange".
He was standing and leaning against the wall on his shoulder, his arms folded and ankles crossed over each other.
"Are you okay?" he asked me in a way that sounded close to patronising.
My surroundings were still spinning. I began to wonder if I was seriously unwell. Before I knew it, my body felt as light as a feather and lost balance. Mr Bateman, not missing a fraction of a second, caught me in his arms. Holding my waist firmly, he kept me steadily upright.
"I think you need to go back to bed", he now moved his arm higher, offering for me to sling my right arm around his neck as he walked me.
"I can walk fine on my own", I found myself snapping and tugging harshly away from him.
The excessive force of my movement caused me to lose my balance clumsily again an I had no choice but to grab onto his arms. He gave me a look that screamed "told you so".
Begrudgingly, I gave in and allowed him to help me to my room. His arms were surprisingly strong and felt like they could snap me in half if they really wanted to.
When we arrived, I fumbled with my keys and unlocked the door, throwing them down on the counter before I let myself collapse on my bed.
I curled my legs inwards and felt a new weight on the mattress. Squinting through the light, I saw Mr Bateman perched down on the end of my bed, staring down at me and I felt a strange sense of de ja vu.
"You shouldn't have tried to come to class today", he shook his head at me, "You're too sick. You need to-"
"What happened last night?" I interrupted him.
He simply blinked at me, his eyes bright and soft.
"Well, you came to my office for the piano lesson", he started, "Then, before you could even sit down, you fainted".
"How did I end up back here?" I quizzed him suspiciously.
"I had to carry you and put you to bed", he replied straightforwardly.
"But Alison said I didn't come back last night", I argued, "And when she woke up, I still wasn't here".
"That's right", he nodded expectantly, "The door was locked and I tried knocking but there was no answer. She must have been asleep. I had to sleep too, so I brought you back to mine and slept on the couch while you had my bed".
"Back to yours?" I questioned, completely unconvinced, "You drove me all the way to your place instead of- I don't know, maybe calling an ambulance or getting help?"
"Watch your tone", he said through gritted teeth, that seemingly false kindness slipping for a moment, "I did get help. I phoned the school nurse who, after hearing your name, said she knows that on your file it notes you have low blood pressure, and that fainting attacks can occur occasionally. She informed me to position you on your back and check that you're breathing".
I looked into the distance, vaguely considering all of this. He was right.
"When you didn't wake up, she said to leave you to sleep", he continued, "And I live just next to the campus. My place was only a five minute walk from here so it seemed like the best option. I apologise. Next time I'll just leave you on the floor where no one can find you".
He said these last two sentences with half humour and half irritance. It was hard to tell which one he was displaying more.
"You're lying", I spat out of nowhere, feeling feverish and worked up, "I remember last night. I didn't faint before I could even sit down. I played the piano and you told me not to turn around. You were..."
My voice trailed off, unsure how my words seemed to catch on quicker than my thoughts.
"You were trying to kill me", I quickly shuffled up my bed away from him in fear as the realisation dawned on me.
"You poor thing", he extended his bottom lip slightly in empathy as he watched me, "You're still not well. You need to rest".
He placed the back of his hand against my forehead gently and I winced.
"You're burning", he said pitifully, "Look at you. You're shaking. You had a feverish nightmare, that's all. Either that or you hallucinated in the night. Look me in the eyes, Chelsea, and ask yourself if I'd ever try to hurt you".
My head feeling like a cotton wool ball at this point, I gazed at the sight of him. His hair was perfectly groomed this morning, slicked back and making an "m" shape just about his forehead. His skin was smoother and clearer than I could ever dream mine to be, and three petite crinkles formed underneath his eyes either side of his razor sharp cheekbones whenever he smiled at me. He was wearing a black bow tie today, a small but significant feature that didn't fail to highlight those chocolate eyes which often made my heart skip a beat in both terrifying and mesmerisingly enamoured ways.
When I followed his instruction and looked into his eyes, I bizarrely saw someone who cared for me. Someone who worried for me. Most importantly, someone who understood me. The strange thing was, I never saw any of these emotions in his eyes before today. He looked at me like I was a different person to who I was yesterday; he was suddenly fixated on me.
Maybe I was hallucinating now. Nevertheless, the man who I saw before me, even if it was in an imaginative state, was definitely not capable of hurting me. I instantly calmed down, an ugly feeling of remorse digging into my heart.
"Sorry", I mumbled guiltily, "I just feel scared and I don't know why".
"It's okay, silly", he smiled fondly at me, those three crinkles appearing again, "You have nothing to be afraid of".
His hand was advancing towards my face and he let it trail down my cheek, wiping away a tear that I hadn't even realised was there.
"You should get back to teaching", I sniffed, "They'll be wondering where you are".
"I told them they could leave early", he shrugged apathetically.
"You did that just so you could come and find me?" I asked, stunned.
He looked at me as if I had just given birth to a guinea pig.
"Of course", he simply replied in a serious tone.
His hand, resting next to my head on the pillow, placed itself firmly on my shoulder and his thumb began stroking the side of my neck tenderly. My eyes glanced down at his hand in confusion, but returned to his stare when he began talking.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward", he started, "But I've never really viewed you as just a student".
His hand trailed down to my arm and caressed my inner elbow with his index finger somewhat suggestively, his eyes watching me carefully the entire time.
All of this felt like a fever dream. Perhaps it was. I didn't want it to stop. Every word that escaped his pursed lips and the way he touched me excited me deeply, and it was a feeling I had been repressing since meeting him as I had dismissed it as obscene. Maybe it was a feeling of danger. Or maybe I was confusing terror with affection. Either way, I felt myself falling deeply into something significant and I couldn't control it. Now, right before my very eyes, on this very day, I began perceiving Patrick Bateman as a real man rather than my teacher.
Our relationship was confused. One day I was scared of him and the next I felt intrigued and almost infatuated. There was something about him that I couldn't work out.
But in a romantic sense? I didn't know. Sure, thoughts had arisen since meeting him on my very first day here. Thoughts that had sometimes kept me up at night. Occasionally, I had even wondered how his lips would feel on mine but, every time, quickly blocked those thoughts out. That particular thought briefly ran through my imagination right now.
The strained dizziness in my head from this morning was replaced with a new drunken, giddy sense of dizziness and there was no pain anymore. His hand was clasped over my knee now and it felt warm and comforting.
I decided to find my voice.
"Patrick", I naturally used his forename without it feeling forced for the very first time, and his eyes widened for barely a millisecond, "I'm still feeling quite disorientated and confused. Maybe we could talk when I can think properly".
"Of course", he nodded understandingly.
Hesitating for a moment, I placed my hand delicately over his and gave him a warm smile. He looked surprised, but returned the smile and stood up, adjusting his suit jacket accordingly.
"I'm trusting you'll stay in bed for the rest of the day and use the weekend to get yourself better", Patrick said, momentarily glancing at himself in the mirror and sorting his hair, "Oh and-"
His eyes shot to mine in the mirror, his back turned to me.
"-maybe arrange a doctor's appointment to see about your low blood pressure", he added, fixing his bow tie.
I looked away from him and simply muttered in vague agreement. I wanted him to go now.
"You know where I'll be if you need anything", he turned around to face me again, "If I don't see you, I hope you have a nice weekend".
The thought of not seeing him for the rest of the week made me feel slightly melancholy. I gave him a weak smile and told him to have a nice weekend too.
Before leaving, he stood still for a moment as if contemplating something then returned back to my bed to cover the duvet over my body and straighten my pillow. He looked at me one last time, almost concerned, before finally leaving and shutting the door behind him. I was alone.
--- --- ---
During the next couple of hours, it mostly consisted of drifting in and out of sleep. Alison came in, not too long after Patrick left, to check on me. I ended up having to come up with some lie about how had fallen asleep in the study lounge after doing homework. She didn't seem too convinced but thankfully didn't press any further.
At around 1:15PM, I answered the door after hearing a knock and was greeted by a guest I didn't expect.
"You look awful", James commented.
Before I could even mutter a sarcastic "thanks", he strode past me into my room. I was feeling a lot better actually, but the oversleeping was definitely having an effect on my appearance.
I shut the door behind us and looked at him expectantly.
"I thought I'd just come and see how you're doing", he explained nonchalantly, "Alison said you're taking the day off".
"Yeah, I'm feeling better now but thanks for pointing out that I still look like a goddess", I responded sardonically, leaning back against a wall.
"You just look tired", he corrected himself apologetically then flashed me a bright smirk, "I'd still hook up with you though".
I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes. James sat on my bed, the exact same place Patrick was sitting, and I frowned at him.
"Is everything else okay?" James asked, his tone changing as he looked up at me questioningly.
I folded my arms and shrugged at him.
"Yes", I replied bluntly, "Well, feeling unwell puts me in a bad mood. But, other than that, I'm fine".
"Okay, I was just checking", he said, clearly taking the hint to back off.
He stood up again after his failed attempt at what seemed like a heart-to-heart, then turned to me tentatively.
"You know if anything is happening", he began, "you can always come and talk to me. I know I might not seem like the best listener, but I actually am pretty good at it. I grew up with two younger sisters and they would confide in me all the time".
My eyes softened slightly and I noticed him genuinely trying to be supportive.
"Thank you, James", I told him wholeheartedly, "But I really am okay. Promise".
He didn't look too certain but smiled in response. Making us both jump slightly, the door barged open and Alison came bouncing in.
"Chels, I brought you some chocola-"
She stopped speaking at the sight of James and a delighted smirk made its way onto her face.
"Why, hello James", she greeted him, looking between us both, "What are you doing here?"
"I was just checking on Chelsea", he responded, glaring at her.
"How sweet", she grinned at me, "I didn't know you two had gotten so close".
In an instant, her eyes grew wide and I could practically see an idea forming in her head.
"You two have to come bowling with me and Jason tomorrow!" Alison squealed ecstatically, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking at me intensley, "Please, Chelsea".
"Why am I not getting asked?" James intervened.
"Because I know you'll come", Alison responded, "But Chelsea won't want to".
"Charming", he rolled his eyes.
"You want me to come on your first date with Jason?" I asked her unsurely.
"Yes!" she agreed loudly, "I am so scared I'm taking nervous shits about three times a day. Is that normal?"
James grimaced at her and Alison gave him an apologetic look.
"But wouldn't that be a double date?" I asked.
Alison shot James a cautious look and he sighed frustratedly before turning to me.
"I told her that I think you're hot and now she has a theory that I'm in love with you", James revealed, glaring at Alison the whole time, "Which I'm not, by the way. But, I guess if you'd like to go on a double date, then I'd be up for it. As it's to help a friend".
He said the last worst begrudgingly and Alison gave him a sheepish grin.
Both pairs of eyes were glued on me and I felt under pressure. Alison's pleading eyes paired with her hands clasped into a prayer swayed me.
"Fine", I gave in, but shot James a stern look, "But just to help Alison, so don't go getting any ideas".
"I'll try my hardest", James gave me that typical playboy grin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you", Alison embraced me into a tight hug, "I've got my last lesson now. See you later!"
Alison charged out of the room hurriedly, never losing an ounce of her unique energy.
"Me too actually", James headed to the door, then turned back to me, "I'll come and meet you tomorrow at 6 and I'll drive us there".
I nodded, wondering how I had gotten myself into this situation. He laughed moderately at my expression.
"I'm gonna show you how much of a catch I really am, Chelsea Lakes", he promised, his eyes shining, "See you tomorrow".
With boredom, I slumped back down on my bed. Realistically, I was well enough to go back to lessons now. But I felt awkward about what Patrick had said. Maybe awkward was the wrong term. More so nervous. I felt I needed some time away from him, even if it did make me feel lonely.
I pulled out my journal from its spot under my bed and clicked my pen.
Strange week. Patrick-that's right, I call him Patrick now-pretty much admitted there was a connection between us today and I still don't know how to feel about it. Surely it's wrong for a student feel that way about a teacher, and vice versa...
In other peculiar news, James and I are going on a double date with Alison and Jason tomorrow for bowling. Maybe that's what I need to take my mind off everything else going on. James is good looking, funny and actually my age. Who knows?
--- --- ---
WEEK 1, DAY 6: SATURDAY
At 6:15PM, I was anxiously pacing around my room. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I thought about applying some perfume and reminded myself that Alison had "borrowed" it. I would have to ask her about that at some point soon. I used her citrus perfume again for now.
Finally, there was a bold knock at the door. I opened it, mildly agitated, and stared at James in disbelief who was holding a bouquet of roses.
"For goodness sake", I couldn't help but laugh, "A bit much, don't you think? And you're late".
"I told you I'd show you that I'm worth your time", James grinned, handing me the flowers which I put in a vase.
We both admired each other for a moment. He was wearing a black open neck satin shirt and, for the first time, I noticed he had chest tattoos. To match, he had simple black jeans on and sneakers. The sneakers dampened the whole formality of the look but it certainly gave him character.
I, on the other hand, was wearing a light grey vest underneath an oversized black and white checkered plaid shirt, alongside some denim shorts and white trainers. My hair was curled and makeup kept to a minimum.
"I like your chest", I pointed to his tattoos.
"I like yours too", he replied, then stupidly realised what he had said.
We both stood there in silence for three seconds then cracked up into laughter.
"Come on", he beckoned me out the door, "Let's leave before I can let my perverted thoughts talk for me again".
We walked together to his car and I was taken aback to see that it was a black Porsche. I gave him a questioning look.
"Rich dad", he shrugged, and that was all that needed to be said.
He drove us to the bowling centre, albeit a little over the speed limit, but the journey was a pleasant five minute drive (it should have been eight minutes).
Jason and Alison were standing next to Jason's car, talking and gazing into one another's eyes, whilst we parked.
We all greeted each other and headed inside to purchase an alley. Alison was surprisingly a pretty good bowler. Jason was mediocre and James was awful. I was average at best, although I did manage to get a couple of strikes.
I noticed Jason playing with Alison's hands and I smiled at the sight of them two. They looked like a couple already, and he was visibly treating her with a lot of respect.
After bowling, we bought milkshakes in a cute little 80s themed diner just next door. Alison and Jason shared a salted caramel, while James got a sour patch milkshake and I went for a red velvet.
While the other two were chatting away, James who was sitting next to me in the booth, turned to face me.
"You look really good today, by the way", he complimented me genuinely.
"You don't look half bad yourself", I responded, sipping my milkshake through a straw, "I've had a really nice time tonight. Thanks for helping me help out Alison".
"Well I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to", James told me with a charming gaze in his eyes, "Actually I was gonna ask if you wanted to go and talk somewhere for a little while. You know, away from these two".
We both stared at the pair opposite us who were both in worlds of their own, interlocking hands on the table and deep in conversation. Alison never even needed us to accompany her in the first place.
"Sure", I turned back to James, "Why not?"
James immediately began getting up and, to my surprise, grabbed my hand before we said our goodbyes to Alison and Jason. Alison noticed the hand grab and gave me a suggestive wink. Still holding my hand, James walked me to the alley way in between the diner and bowling centre.
It was around 8 o clock at this time, so the starry night sky was glaring over us and a quarter moon peering over the buildings in the distance.
Whilst my back rested against the wall, James placed his hand next to my head as he leant in close to me. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but he didn't.
"I don't really know how to say this", he began uncomfortably, "But I need to say it".
Oh God, I thought to myself with dread, I don't think I can handle two men in a 24 hour period displaying their interests in me.
"This is embarrassing", he started and I watched him with pity, "This morning, I skipped class and I was...well, I was coming to your room to slip something under your door. Two movie tickets for tonight, scheduled one hour ago. What I'm saying is that I was gonna ask you on a date, Chelsea, myself. It wasn't in the plan to have Alison invite us both on a new date. But it was too late at that point anyway".
"Why didn't you ask me?" I inquired and smiled, a little touched by the gesture.
"Well that's what I needed to talk to you about", James stated awkwardly, "At around 10:30, just before I could slide the tickets under your door, the handle started turning so I quickly ran and hid behind a wall because I just assumed it was you. But it was your teacher, Bateman".
My smile instantly dropped and I couldn't hide my expression as his face was so close to mine.
"It just looked weird", James spoke unsurely, "I mean, you know one of the school's policies prohibits teachers from going into any student rooms unless it's an emergency, right?"
"It was an emergency", I said in an almost-whisper.
"What?"
"I said it was an emergency", I spoke louder this time, "I nearly fainted outside the bathroom this morning so he helped me to my room".
"Right, it's just that I ran into Alison at around 10 o clock and she said you rushed out and he followed you straight after and ended the class early", James explained, watching me cautiously, "I saw him leave your room at 10:30. I don't want to cross-examine you. I trust you. I just don't trust him. He had a weird smile on his face when he was leaving your room and I didn't like it. That's why I just wanted to make sure you were okay".
Turning my head to the side and glancing at a group of friends smoking together, I gulped stiffly as so many different thoughts raced through my head.
"He was honestly just making sure I wasn't going to pass out again", I looked back at James and gave him a convincing grin, "I'm getting a bit tired. Would you mind dropping me back?"
"Course", he pushed himself off the wall and placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked to his car.
Juxtaposed to the journey here, the car drive back was filled with mostly silence. I twiddled with my fingers on my lap as he drove at a perfectly normal speed now, less energised than earlier.
When we returned back to campus, he opened the car door for me and we both stood opposite each other awkwardly as we knew we were headed in different directions.
"Fuck it", James said all of a sudden, clasping both my hands in his confidently, "I like you. I don't need you to tell me about all your baggage, just as I won't talk about mine easily either. I get it. Let's just get to know each other on a less serious level and have fun".
I looked down at our entwined hands and sighed deeply. I really liked James a lot. He was sweet, caring and he made me laugh. In a world where there was no Patrick Bateman, I could definitely see myself falling for him. But he just didn't give me the rush that Patrick did, the butterflies that fluttered around my stomach just at the very thought of him.
"I like you too James", I abandoned his hands and let mine fall to my sides, "I'm just very focused on studying. I don't think I could possibly have time for a relationship".
It technically wasn't a lie. I was focused on studying (even though that may have been because of my teacher).
"I understand", James replied, "I guess I can't get used to getting the girl all the time. Friends it is then. For now".
I smiled appreciatively up at him and he gave me a strained smile back, then leant in slowly, holding the back of my head in his hand, and planted the softest kiss on my cheek.
"See you later", he gave me one last genuine smile before turning around and heading inside.
As I watched him walk away, my heart aching slightly, my attention was soon directed towards a window right at the very top of the school. The light, which was switched on, quickly turned into pitch black promptly after I peered up at the room. For a split second, when I first caught glimpse of the isolated window, I could have sworn a figure was standing there staring down at me.