Page 22 of The Teacher of Nothing
But that’s a lie. Last night, when I made the decision to text her, I made her mine. My friend. Or so I’d agreed to.
It’s not…enough, though.
Friends seems like the wrong word to label what we have.
“May I be excused?”
The object of my obsession’s voice draws me from my inner turmoil. I find Willa’s eyes shiny with unshed tears and her chin slightly wobbling. Everything in me begs me to go to her, pull her into my arms, and not let go.
“You may.”
She grabs her stuff and is out the door in a flash. Without Willa in my presence, I can think and focus. I manage to get through the entire lesson uninterrupted, keeping the class busy taking a ton of notes. It’s not until the bell rings do I realize she never came back.
I need to talk to her. It wasn’t until that dickhead started saying shit to upset her earlier that I really understood how difficult this is for her. He betrayed her trust, in a place she’s supposed to feel the safest, and continues to mock her. I don’t know what all Levi’s father said to Wayne to keep him from being suspended, but it’s not fair to Willa. She’s a victim who’s being forced to face her perpetrator.
When every last person has left my classroom, I lock up and make a beeline to the closest women’s restroom. I wait until the bell rings, sending a few straggling girls rushing out the door, before pushing inside.
“Miss Reyes?”
Something clatters in the farthest stall. “Mr. Park?”
“You going to hide in there all day?”
“The day’s practically over.”
I walk over to the stall door and peek in through the crack. It probably makes me a creeper, but she’smy friendand I’m worried about her.
“Come out of there, Willa.”
The door unlocks, but she doesn’t open it. I take it as an invitation to join her. Some invitations should be declined, but I’m a selfish man. We’re alone and she needs me.
She. Needs. Me.
I push into the stall and close it behind me. The lock engaging echoes in the empty bathroom. Willa stands with her back leaned against the wall, her backpack at her feet. Her eyes are red, obviously from crying, and her brows furl as she meets my gaze.
“I swear, I’m not always this pathetic,” she whispers, her voice caught between a laugh and a sob.
I take a step toward her, bringing my body nearly flush with hers in the small space. “You’re not pathetic.”
She tilts her head up, green eyes searching mine. “I can barely talk to him.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” I rumble, swallowing down my anger that threatens to resurface. “He should be suspended.”
“I still have to face him at home.”
“Which is fucked up.”
This earns me a shy smile. “You cursed. You shouldn’t do that at school.”
“Oh, Willa, I do a lot of things I shouldn’t do at school.” Like hide out in the girls’ bathroom with one of my barely legal students. “And yet, I do them anyway.”
Her cheeks turn crimson at my words. “Will you get in trouble for being in here with me?”
Yes.
Absolutely fucking yes.
Worse, my father will find out. Then, I’ll be just like him. He’ll take great satisfaction in making my life hell for the next lifetime.
