Page 13 of Life Lessons

“I handle files as part of my job. Your date of birth is prominent on your school file. I was just doing my job,” she explains very casually but we all knew it was a lie. I was going to call her out on it, but I didn’t get the chance.

“Harriett, after this lesson we will both walk to Mr Thornton’s office and you will explain to him how you breached confidentiality. I’m sure he will be most interested to learn that you have had anything at all to do with student files when we both know that is not within your job description. Now sit your ass down and shut up, before I add more punishments on top of whatever the Head gives you,” Mr Caine says firmly, leaving no room for arguments. I even decided to take my seat, not wanting to drag any more unwanted attention. But sadly it was too late.

“Is that why you have a bandage on the back of your neck? Did you get ink for your birthday? I had no idea you had tats under those baggy clothes. How many do you have? What did you get?” rambles Harley, talking a mile a minute, trying to get as much information as he possibly can.

When I tied my hair up this morning I forgot all about the bandage on my neck. I took it off last night, put the usual healing cream on and then covered it over again. I was planning on having my hair down so people couldn’t see it, but then I forgot all about it when my mind was focused on operation seduce my fucking teacher. I feel like shaking my head at my own stupidity but I don’t bother. I know I’m too caught up in that kiss to want to give up on it, but at the same time I know I should. Not just because he is my teacher, who ditched me quite spectacularly, but also because I know he is broken in some way. His pain calls out to mine, but without knowing what he has gone through it would be impossible to help him. And let’s be honest, I can barely help myself to get through each day, so I don’t think I have it in me to take one someone else’s battle.

I’m brought back out of my thoughts by hearing a voice responding to the questions that were asked to me. I wonder how long I had been sitting there looking like a rabbit in headlights before he took pity on me.

“Harley, stop being a massive gossip and make yourself useful. Go and get me a coffee. The rest of you get on with the work on the board, and for those of you that finish it quickly, or actually did your homework then turn to chapter ten in your textbooks and start working through those equations. Shout me if you have a problem, but try not to have a problem. I think we have had enough drama for one lesson,” says Mr Caine sternly and before I know it Harley is racing out of the classroom to pick up the coffee, and everyone else is shuffling around with papers on their desk getting down to work.

I risk a glance in Mr Caine’s direction, wondering if he’as going to say any more about me moving to another Maths class, but it’s obvious he’s doing everything he can to avoid looking at me. I take that as a win, and take my textbook out, starting on the work like he said.

Class passes by quickly with no further drama, right until the bell goes signifying the end of class. I take my time packing away my stuff because I want to see if he really plans on following through with his threat to Harriett. But before the first person has even managed to get out of the door, my petite friend Trixie barrels her way through all the students until she gets to me.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is it true that it was your birthday yesterday and you didn’t let me celebrate with you?” asks Trixie, looking hurt whilst also trying to chastise me. At that moment I actually did feel bad that I hadn’t told her, but I couldn’t.

“Wow, gossip really does travel fast. Are you and Harley in some sort of gossip chat?” I ask, trying to change the subject slightly. I also discreetly cast my eyes towards Mr Caine who is faffing with papers on his desk and doing a very poor job of hiding the fact he is eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Do not change the subject, and yes there is a big chat group where a select few people from each class share information with other classes, but that’s another conversation. Was yesterday your birthday? Yes or no?” Trixie is relentless in her pursuit for the truth that she already knows, so there is no point in denying it.

“Yes, it was my birthday, but before you say anything, I don’t celebrate it. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?” I say, trying to keep the snarkiness out of my voice because I’m lucky to even have a friend like Trixie who cares so much.

“Fine. But you are making it up to me. I am going on a date on Saturday. It’s the first time I’m meeting him off campus, but he’s got his cousin visiting and he can’t ditch him. So I said I would bring along a friend, too. You are that friend. I will tell you more about it tonight, but he has told me a lot about his cousin, and I’ve seen a picture. Trust me, he is fucking hot with a capital H. Plus, I really like Aaron, you have to do this for me. With any luck we will both get lucky—” Trixie is still carrying on with her rant about this supposed date I am being dragged along to when a very firm, and pissed sounding voice interrupts our conversation.

“Trixie. Newbie. Will you get the hell out of my classroom and go to your next lesson? My ears are literally starting to bleed listening to your gossip,” says Mr Caine and as I look up at him I can see his jaw is clenched and his posture is rigid. Sounds to me like someone has a little case of the green-eyed monster, and that makes me very happy. Not that I have any intention of sleeping with some random guy that Trixie sets me up with. I will go on the date, but only for her, not because I am looking for a man. If me going on the date happens to make Mr Caine see how he really feels then that’s a bonus. Worst case scenario is that I simply piss him off, and after how he left me dumped on the music room floor, there’s a part of me that is hoping for this. I guess we will see what Saturday brings.

Not being able to sleep isn’t new to me. In fact, I’m quite the insomniac when I don’t drink until I pass out. But when the drink only serves to make me think about her more, that’s not currently an option either. Not after one evening during the week when I dipped in and out of consciousness, waking to find my hand on my solid dick and her name being whispered from my lips. This girl’s going to get me fucking fired if I can’t get my shit together before she graduates. It’s only a couple of months into the school year, yet I’ve never had this issue. Spoilt little shits aren’t my niche, but I can’t stop myself from seeing beyond that side of her.

Every day, I see something new in her I didn’t realize previously. The age, the tattoos, the hidden past and secretive operation. She was fucking with my head before. Never mind how much my interest is piqued now. I want to expose her secrets, solve her like the puzzle she is, and then I’ll be able to put her aside. A quick fuck usually does the job nicely. I never crave the same woman twice, but in this instance, that is not an option. Not. An. Option. Penis. So go the fuck down so I can get on with my day.

It’s felt like years since I’ve had a weekend to myself, no detention duty to avoid, no marking to ignore. Just pure me-time. After my fail of a Friday last night, which I do not want to think about, I’m ready to get up and make the most of it. Aka, distract myself from my thoughts.

Starting with a refreshingly cold shower, I dress in a pair of loose cotton shorts and hunt for my favourite t-shirt. The black one with the Metallica logo printed across the front. It was from the first concert my dad took me to as a kid, after he bought one of every size so I could have a photo taken in each one and it would appear like the t-shirt was growing with me. He was full of quirky ideas like that and those pictures took pride of place down our staircase.

Searching for a while later, I drop to my knees and chew on the inside of my cheek. I’m sure I left it under the bed, or maybe in the pile of washing that usually sits in the corner, but I can’t see it anywhere. Not letting it bring my mood down, I grab the first vest that comes to hand and drag it on whilst entering the kitchen.

I’ve decided I’m going to start with a decent sized breakfast, a tall glass of orange juice, and then head out; see where today takes me. It’s beautifully sunny outside, with just enough cloud cover for it to be enjoyable, not the sweltering, BO-freak fest kind of day. Given it’s almost November, I would expect it to be colder, so I am pleasantly surprised.

Thinking of a hot summer’s day has me imagining Abbie finally wearing a little summer dress with her blue-streaked hair in a high bun so I can get a good look at her tattoos, a gentle breeze lightly blowing the skirt around her creamy legs. I come to a halt, stopping short of slapping myself around the face. Where the fuck did that come from?

Grumbling at myself, I yank open the fridge door. All I have are some beers and out-of-date cream cheese, which won’t go far at all. Not to worry, I can’t be bothered cleaning up the mess I would make cooking for myself, anyway. Pushing my feet into my newest Air Jordans, I grab my phone and keys on the way out of the door. My hair is still slightly damp, dripping down the back of my vest so when I get outside, I give it a vigorous shake and let the waves fall around my face.

The campus is usually quiet on the weekends, those who live close enough driving back to their mansions and prissy friends, but today especially it’s like a ghost town around here. Taking the scenic route, I meander through the various courtyards and secret alcoves behind the blocks. It is rather picturesque when I take the time to appreciate it. Autumn leaves glisten a soft brown colour as they wait to join those that have already fallen, covering the benches that are usually hidden below their blossom covered branches. It’s strange to feel warm surrounded by the fall.

Stepping inside the cafeteria, taking in the ceilings covered with hanging ghouls and bats, and the pumpkin displays randomly dotted about, I remember it’s halloween. At this time of year students typically go home to all the high society halloween balls their parents throw. That must be why there’s only four tables occupied, and who has to be sitting at one of them but the one girl I’m trying to forget. I pause, considering turning around and saying fuck it to this whole positive vibe when clearly the universe is against me, but those piercing blue eyes suddenly flick up to me and I’m captivated. No, I mean trapped. I can’t be seen pussying out now, so I stride over to the counter instead. Besides, I came here for a good breakfast and that’s what I’m going to get. It’ll just be to-go now.

“Sir!” I cringe at the sound of Jackson’s voice, pretending to ignore him until it gets louder and louder and then he’s by my side. “Sir, come join us.” He points to his table where Harley and a few others from the wrestling team are sitting by the window. When I’m bored and I can’t be bothered to wait for my allotted gym time, sometimes I head down to spar with them and for some reason they seem to think that makes us friends. To be honest, legally beating the shit out of my students and being praised for it is just a form of stress relief for me, not a bonding experience which means I’d sit and waste my fucking weekend with them.

“I’ve got things to do,” I reply gruffly, grabbing my freshly-made baguette and coffee from the canteen assistant.

“That’s right,” Sam butts in. He pushes his way between Jackson and I to throw an arm over my shoulder. “Jetty’s going to help the lot of us with the sport’s rally prep today.” I chuckle, elbowing him in the ribs and ducking aside, all the while not spilling my coffee.

“You can fuck right off as well.” I try to make my way to the door but Sam beats me to it, blocking it with a lopsided smirk.

“Shame, your best student has volunteered with her preppy friend. I thought you could help us keep these dickheads from chasing their skirts instead of actually getting this shit show ready for next week. Why the fuck Thornton wants to do a trial run months before the main event is beyond me, but this is our last chance before winter.” My eyes instantly slide to Nightingale, relieved to see she is in her usual tight jeans and that Sam is not speaking literally. I don’t know if I could have kept myself in check if she happened to be in a skirt, never mind the jocks openly cat calling at them. I clench my jaw, Nightingale looking up at me once and I instantly turn back to Sam.

“No.”

---