It's ridiculous.
He seduces me, takes my virginity and avoids me the next day.
Why is he like this? Why are boys like this?! I might as well just become gay!
English, which we have daily, is a nightmare. He skips my name in the register, avoids looking at my work, and refuses to pick on me during questioning, even during the rare times I actually know the answer!
Straight after third period, I walk to his office as confidently as possible, but really I'm an insecure asshole and I can't be confident if I tried.
I stand outside his door for a moment before shyly knocking on it. "Sir?"
He looks up from his paper, muttering something under his breathe before saying "Close the door, please."
I close the door and walk towards his desk, standing at the side of him.
"What is going on between us? If you regret what you did can you at least treat me the same-"
"I don't regret it."
"Really? Because I feel like you do."
"I don't, Emma. There is something that if anyone found out about I would get into trouble for."
"You mean the kinky sex we had?"
"Emma. I am still your teacher. And as a teacher it is my job to make sure you're safe, therefore I can't do that anymore. Where did you want this relationship to go?"
"I don't know. Just, not where it is now. You've barely noticed my existence today."
"Well... I'm sorry for what happened. And I'm sorry for my behaviour today. I'll treat you the same way I did before, pretending that never happened. Alright?"
I sigh, "But what if that's not what I want to happen?"
He tightens his grip on his ballpoint pen, clearly uneasy. He finally stands up, shuffling some test papers before leaning down towards me.
"Because you're fucking irrestistable. And I don't want to get fired."
"Fine. I'll see you later, sir." I roll my eyes before walking out of the classroom. I can hear his mumble something under his breath, but I chose to ignore it.
Luckily, none of my friends of classmates seemed to notice anything. Which was great, as I could tell me and Brendon were only now seeing the consequences of our actions.
I loved it. I fucking did, there's no lie in that. I still have a burning desire to do it all again, but I know it's best for me not to. After all, bad never does good, right?
Later that night, I sit by my window, and think of him. The way his fingers gently trailed down my neck and pulled my bra straps down. The way his lips planted kisses on my neck so tenderly. I thought of how perfect his lips would feel on mine.
I knew this was wrong, yet I still decided to ignore that. It might be selfish of me. But I knew this story was far from over.