Mr. Heywood handed me a cup of tea. “Here. I guess I ran out of coffee.”
“I want sugar,” I demanded, looking at the cup of tea.
Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “You know where it is, go get it yourself.”
I pursed my lips at him. “But—”
“While you’re at it, get me a spoon.”
Pushing myself off the couch, I trudged to the kitchen without protesting. Mr. Heywood was obviously stalling. He’s the one who wanted to talk to me. Why was he making me suffer by avoiding the talk? I felt sick because of how much I wanted to know what the “bad” was. The sugar was right above the silverware drawer so I quickly grabbed it and the spoon before returning to the living room.
“Here,” I told Mr. Heywood, standing above him, holding out the spoon.
He reached up to grab the spoon, but instead of grabbing it he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down next to him.
“You can sit closer, I won’t bite,” he told me, amusement in his voice.
I blushed, causing him to chuckle. “Mr. Heywood—”
“Chris.”
“Chris,” I corrected myself. “What do you want to talk about?”
Mr. Heywood lost his grin. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“I feel like are roles are switched,” I commented, smiling slightly. “Usually I’m the one skirting around the bush.”
“It’s about what happens if Shawn actually did get away,” Mr. Heywood admitted.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t we talking about this in front of everyone else? Shouldn’t they know?”
“Because this is about something they don’t know about,” Mr. Heywood told me. “Well, Jeremy might know, but I wanted Jeremy out of my house.”
“Something they don’t know?”
Mr. Heywood nodded. “Yep.”
I frowned at him, thinking deeply. What was something Jeremy might know, I knew, and Lance and Casey didn’t know? Nothing came to mind right away. “I don’t know,” I finally said.
“If Shawn did escape,” Mr. Heywood started slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “We’re going to go to the police and tell them everything.”
It took a second for his words to register in my mind. When they did, I gasped, my eyes growing wide. I started to shake my head. “No, Mr. Heywood. No.”
“Holly—”
“If we tell them won’t you go back to jail?”
Mr. Heywood stayed silent for a moment. “There’s a chance,” he admitted quietly.
“Then don’t—”
“Holly, if we tell them what’s going on, then Shawn will go to jail as well,” Mr. Heywood interrupted, giving me a stern look. “If Shawn goes to jail, this is all over.”
“But at the expense of you going to jail as well!” I protested. “That’s not fair!”
“It is fair, Holly,” Mr. Heywood responded with a wry smile. “I was told if I got involved with the gang again, I was going back to jail. I did get involved, and what’s worse, I got three teenagers involved as well.”
“I’m an adult,” I stated stubbornly.
“Technically you’re still a teenager,” Mr. Heywood said softly. “And I’m responsible for getting you involved.”
I shook my head. “We aren’t telling the police.”
“Holly.”
“We can’t!”
“Holly, you promised me you’d at least consider it,” Mr. Heywood reminded me.
“There’s nothing to consider!”
Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “Yes, there is. Your safety. Jeremy’s safety. Casey’s safety. Lance’s safety.”
“Your safety,” I commented quietly, lowering my gaze.
Mr. Heywood nodded. “I’m not as worried about that, but yes.”
“I still don’t want you going to jail,” I stated stubbornly.
“You’re being selfish.”
“Can’t I be selfish?” I cried, turning to look at him. “Can’t I be at least a little selfish? After all I’ve been through, I can’t be selfish?”
“Yes, you could, if it wasn’t you being selfish for me,” Mr. Heywood answered, his eyes piercing into mine. “Think about everyone, not just me.”
I bit my tongue. What was I doing? Putting my friends safety over Mr. Heywood going to jail? I didn’t want anyone to get hurt anymore, but I didn’t want Mr. Heywood going to jail either. How could I choose? There was no way I could!
“It’s not fair,” I finally said, clenching my fists.
“Holly—”
I cut him off. “How can I choose between you going to jail or everyone’s safety?”
“Holly, obviously you should choose everyone’s safety,” Mr. Heywood replied, giving me a hard look. “Don’t be stupid.”
Tears sprung to my eyes. Mr. Heywood was right. I knew he was right. If it really came down to it, I’d know what I’d choose. “Do you hate me?”
Mr. Heywood’s expression became bewildered. “What?”
“You can hate me,” I told him, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I would choose everyone’s safety over you going to jail, Mr. Heywood. I’d send you to jail if that meant everyone would be safe.”
“I don’t hate you, Holly.”
“It’d be easier if you did,” I snapped. “I don’t want you to go to jail!”
Mr. Heywood sighed, taking my hand into his. “I know you don’t. I know it’s a hard decision for you to make too.”
I sniffed, grasping his hand tightly. “How can I send the man I love to jail?”
“Holly…”
I lifted my head up to see Mr. Heywood giving me a soft look. More tears filled my vision and without any hesitation I shifted so I could hug him. He sighed quietly again as I squeezed him hard, doing my best not to cry.
“Holly,” Mr. Heywood repeated, putting his arms around me. “This is only if Shawn doesn’t get caught. It’s only a slight possibility.”
“I know that,” I told him, burying my face in his shoulder. “But I love you, Mr. Hey— Chris. I don’t want you in jail. I hate myself for choosing my friends over you.”
Mr. Heywood gently pushed me away from him. I pulled back, staring at him in confusion. His face was only a few inches away from mine. “I love you too,” he told me, brushing a stray piece of my hair out of my face. “So please, don’t cry over me, and don’t hate yourself. Hopefully it won’t come down to this.”
Mr. Heywood moved his head closer to me, sending my heart racing. Within seconds our lips met. I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft touch of his lips, and the taste of the tea he had been drinking earlier. Once again, his lips were slightly chapped. After a moment, he suddenly froze. Confused, I pulled away from him. He was staring at the T.V screen, looking astonished.
My heart jumped into my chest as I quickly turned around to look at the T.V. The news was on.
“No way,” Mr. Heywood stated, pushing away from the couch to walk over to the television. He dropped to his knees in front of it, putting a hand on the side. “Holy shit.”
There was Shawn.
Handcuffed.
With the police.
Running across the bottom of the screen were words I couldn’t focus enough to be able to read. My heart was pounding in my chest, watching as the police led Shawn towards the local jail.
“Suspected for attempted murder?” Mr. Heywood muttered. “They must have found the same finger prints on Shawn’s gun as the one that shot Lance. Unless they were the same gun.”
I staggered forwards and sagged next to the T.V with Mr. Heywood, unable to tear my gaze away from the scene. A quiet laugh escaped my lips, and then a louder one. Mr. Heywood finally took his eyes of the television, glancing at me quickly. I began to laugh harder, crossing my arms over my stomach. Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow.
“You good?”
I shook my head, feeling my eyes water again.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. Heywood asked, now sounding concerned. “Tell me.”
I forced myself to stop laughing. Running the back of my hand over my eyes, I cleared my throat, giving Mr. Heywood a crooked grin. “After all that… I really thought for a moment Shawn would of somehow escaped the police. I thought you were going to go back to jail. I thought that you’d have to go back for no reason. I thought we wouldn’t be able to see each other. I thought—”
“Holly, shut up and kiss me.”
Before I could protest, or comply, Mr. Heywood grabbed my head, bringing it closer to his. For the second time, my senses were over run by the smell of his cologne, the gentle caress of his breath, and the proximity of his face. Our lips met, a little roughly, and our teeth knocked together. I immediately pulled away, blushing.
“Sorry,” I stuttered.
Mr. Heywood chuckled quietly. “That was probably my fault. Let’s try again.” He leaned towards me again and I stayed stock still as he kissed me, much more gently this time. After a second he pulled away.
I pouted slightly. He never let a kiss last longer than five seconds. He smirked at my look, and then kissed me again, pulling away before I could react.
“Stop that,” I demanded.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
I glared at him. “Pulling away before I can kiss you back.”
“Like this?” he asked, quickly pecking me on the lips.
“Just like that!”
Mr. Heywood cocked his head to the side, smirking again. “Well, if you don’t want me to kiss you like that, why don’t you kiss me?”
I stared at him in surprise. Me kiss him? My face grew hot and I looked away. Mr. Heywood chuckled, putting his hands on my waist, making me jump.
“Can you do it?” he asked in a teasing tone. “I don’t think you can.”
I turned to glare at him again. “I— I can!”
“Prove it.”
Blushing furiously I leaned forward. Once again the scent of his alluring cologne filled my nose, and I hesitated only a second before pressing my lips to his. To make sure he wouldn’t pull away, I moved my hands to the back of his head, tangling them in his hair. He responded to the kiss, moving his hands from my waist up to my back. There was a slight pain on my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth in protest. Mr. Heywood wasted no time from turning the kiss into a French one. Soon enough, I was breathing heavily, trying to take in air while attached at the lips to Mr. Heywood. We had definitely passed the five-second mark this time.
Suddenly Mr. Heywood pushed me away, his chest raising and falling quickly. Confused, I stared at him while trying to catch my own breath. He shook his head, leaning back onto the couch.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he commented, still slightly breathless. “I thought I was your first kiss?”
“You were,” I told him.
“Then where’d you learn to kiss like that?” he demanded. “I’ve only kissed you twice before this.”
I blushed. “I didn’t learn anywhere…”
Mr. Heywood groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to be hard.”
“What is?”
“Keeping my self control,” Mr. Heywood informed me. “If you can kiss like that…”
I blushed deeper, ducking my head. “Why do you need to?” I almost gasped as soon as the question left my lips. Pressing my lips together as tightly as I could, I avoided Mr. Heywood’s gaze. What had I just asked? Why had I just asked that?
A sigh left Mr. Heywood’s lips. “Well, that brings us to the second thing I want to talk about…”
I looked back up at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Holly, I’m your teacher.”
“Obviously.”
Mr. Heywood cracked a small grin. “You know a relationship between a teacher is forbidden, right?”
“Right…”
“If we want to be together, it has to stay a secret. Only you, Jeremy, Lance, Casey, and myself can know. If anyone finds out, I’ll be fired, and you could be expelled.”
“I already know that,” I responded, frowning slightly. “But what’s that got to do with…”
Mr. Heywood held up his finger. “Let me finish. I don’t plan on getting caught, but if we did and you and I had a more… intimate relationship, I’d probably go to jail.”
“Intimate like…?”
“Physical,” Mr. Heywood responded awkwardly.
Immediately my face felt like it was one fire. I opened my mouth to say something, but my mind had gone completely blank. I should have known what Mr. Heywood meant! Now it was awkward. I struggled to think of something to say. “I— Uh, I… Right. I gotcha,” I muttered, ducking my head. “I don’t… I don’t need…” I wanted to shoot myself. It wasn’t that embarrassing!
“We’ll be careful. At least until you graduate,” Mr. Heywood continued, smirking at my awkwardness. “Then we can openly be a couple… If you want to.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Of course I want to! Why if?”
Mr. Heywood hesitated for a moment, suddenly looking unsure. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Holly…”
A frown slowly appeared on my face. Mr. Heywood was using his “I-have-something-to-say-and-you-might-not-like-it” voice. I hated that voice. I glanced up at him warily. “Yeah?”
Mr. Heywood abruptly looked away from me, mumbling something so fast I couldn’t catch it. I squinted at him, cocking my head to the side. “What?”
“Are you sure that you want to be with me?” he repeated, more clearly, sounding embarrassed.
“Huh?”
“I’m not repeating it again,” he snapped, hunching his shoulders.
I shook my head vehemently. “No! I heard you. Why would you ask that? Of course I want to…” I trailed off.
“Even though I’m four years older than you?”
“For years is nothing,” I assured him, surprised to see such an insecure air about him.
“And you don’t care about my past?”
“Not at all.”
“And you don’t care that I used you as a replace meant for Holly in the beginning?”
I cocked my head to the side. “No… Why are you asking all these questions?”
Mr. Heywood kept his head away from me. “I have my doubts too, you know.”
Jeremy’s words suddenly whizzed through my head. While you doubt yourself, Chris probably doubts himself as well. I bit my lip hard to keep myself from smiling. Jeremy was right. I wasn’t the only one who had doubts. Mr. Heywood had just seemed so sure of himself, it didn’t seem like he had any doubts. While I was doubting myself, Mr. Heywood was probably thinking the same things.
“Jeremy told me I should tell you them,” Mr. Heywood muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It really doesn’t suit me…”
I shook my head. “You’re right, it doesn’t.”
Mr. Heywood looked at me again, frowning slightly. I smiled at him. “Jeremy said the same thing to me before. That’s why I blurted out all those bad things about me—”
“Good things,” Mr. Heywood corrected.
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, but my point is that if you hadn’t said you had doubts, I wouldn’t know.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I want you to tell me any time you have doubts,” I insisted. “It’s not fair for you to have to put up with me all the time.”
Mr. Heywood smiled slightly. “I don’t put up with you. But, since I’m tossing away my… machismo right now, I have one more doubt I’d like to ask you about…”
“What?”
“You don’t care that I’m a lying, devil of a teacher?” Mr. Heywood asked, a smirk playing across his features. So much for the insecure air.
My cheeks blazzed, remembering my old nickname for him. How had he known? “I don’t… I don’t mind.”
“Good,” Mr. Heywood responded. “I wouldn’t let you go, anyway. I’m a shameless man, Holly.”
“Which is fine, Mr. Heywood,” I responded with a grin.
He smiled smugly at me. “So, do you want to be my girlfriend?”
I stared at him in surprise, taken aback by his forwardness. Another blush spread across my face and I looked away from him. “Yes,” I finally murmured.
“On one condition then.”
My head snapped up so fast there was a tiny snap as it cricked. I winced, rubbing it with my hand. “Condition?” I repeated incredulously.
“It’s nothing much,” Mr. Heywood assured me with a shrug.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“From now on, you have to call me Chris.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he responded with a nod. “Easy, right?”
“That’s too easy, Mr. Heywood!” I responded with a laugh. Then I realized what I said and pressed my lips together tightly.
Mr. Heywood snickered, smirking again. “Too easy, huh, Holly?”
I scowled. “Just you wait.”
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Happy Thanksgiving! I have to go back to the 3024234 people here now, before i get yelled at so I can't write much. Everyone harasses me about what college I'm going to go to. It's irritating -_-
This isn't the end. I don't know why people thought last chapter was the end... There's still one thing left.
Contest results next time, because I don't have time to write everything.
Facebook page in link :D I think you should vote for this chapter ;D