Page 53 of Love is Strange
“Something funny to you, Mister Styles?” Mrs. Welch says, getting Pretty Dancer’s attention.
“There is, but it’s nothing that concerns you, Mrs. Welch.” I reply curtly, smiling brightly.
“Well, maybe you can tell me later in my office. See me before you leave. And that’s a demand, Mister Styles. I expect you to be there.”
With that, both her and the dean walk out. As soon as the door is shut, Pretty Dancer turns toward the class. “You guys can have a free day. I do expect my Winter Formal performers to practice their routine, though.”
Everyone else gets to their feet and begins doing whatever it is they want. Some pair up and begin stretching, others find their little group and gossip. Pretty Dancer attempts to scurry off and hide away in her office, but as she passes me, I stop her.
“Mrs. Emily.”
She goes rigid at the sound of my voice but stops just short of being in front of me. “Yes, Ryan?”
“I was wondering if you could teach me a few moves I saw Francis doing the other day in class.”
“Not today, Ryan.” She turns, trying to walk away yet again but I gently grab her elbow and pull her toward me. Her arm bumps into my chest, and her leg brushes my groin, causing me to groan.
“Today, Mrs. Emily.” I tell her, pulling her a little closer. “I would hate for certain someone’s to find out that you aren’t helping students in ways you should be.”
Her head snaps toward me, anger pours from her gaze and burns my skin. “You wouldn’t!”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I whisper, “I wanted to stay on your good side, but it seems that you only like me when I’m on your bad.” She shakes her head, pulling herself out of my gentle hold, and straightens herself out. “No black leo today, I see.”
“What moves are you talking about?” She says, changing the subject and putting as much distance as she can between us.
I smirk at her, wondering if sticking around here to mess with her would be a more productive way to spend my time until I can ditch this shit hole. Then I realize that I’ve never thought about hanging around for anyone and it sours my mood.
“You know what, never mind.” Her face falls and before she can say anything, I bend down and grab my bag. Pushing by her, I walk toward the door to leave.
If I don’t leave now, then I have a feeling I may never want to.
E L E V E N
EMILY
It’s beentwenty-four hours since I secretly ruined my life.
Twenty-four hours since I slept with one of my students.
Twenty-four hours since I saw my husband face-to face.
And twenty-four hours of non-stop thinking about how badly I want to do it again—even with the consequences it entails if anyone ever finds out. Regardless of how shitty I felt after, all I can think about is how much fun it was. How amazing it felt and how I have never felt anything like that with Dan.
Ever.
It was rejuvenating.
As much as I should be concerned about my husband finding out, I’m more concerned about the dean and counselor finding out. They saw him leave the property after hours. I completely forgot they monitor all cameras in the morning before school starts. If they find out, then it’s over for me. In all aspects of my life.
I swallow hard, turning the music up a little more. My class dismissed about an hour ago and I’ve been here by myself, thinking.
I fucked up royally, but that still doesn’t stop the tingle in the pit of my stomach. The one that keeps reminding me of my mistake.
I called off my date with Dan last night. I lied to him and said I was helping a student with her Winter Formal dance routine because she couldn’t get it down herself. I didn’t go home until I knew for sure he was asleep and then I crawled into bed after I scrubbed myself in the shower. I tried to wash the guilty pleasure from my skin, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to rid myself of this.
“Shit!” I say as I trip over my feet and hit the floor with a thud, landing right on my tailbone. I get to my feet and rub the sore spot. “God dammit.”
“I think I should be the one bruising your body, don’t you?” Ryan says from the doorway.
