The memories of what had happened stubbornly refused to leave my head, even for a moment, over the next few days. I couldn't bring myself to follow Lissa's advice after all, because I kept overthinking the whole situation. I replayed that dance, that kiss, over and over in my mind…
I wasn't myself then, was I? Or maybe it was the opposite — maybe I actually wanted it to happen? But I had never looked at the biology teacher as a man before. Or had I? Damn it, I was completely confused! What a mess was going on inside my head.
There was no denying that Mr. Collins was quite an attractive young man. And that would've been fine, except he was my teacher. I couldn't do this.
That was why I decided to clear everything up once and for all. On Monday, after all the classes were over, I headed to classroom 209, hoping to find the biology teacher there. But the voices coming from inside, which I heard as I approached the door, stopped me from opening it. Instead, I leaned closer, pressing my ear against it, trying to catch fragments of the conversation. Eavesdropping? No big deal. It wasn't my first time.
"I don't need a C, Mr. Collins," came a familiar voice that instantly irritated me… Wait, was that Scott? It seemed like she was talking about the test I had missed. Yes, after some time, I had finally answered my endlessly ringing phone and talked to Vicky. Of course, I had been a little upset with Smith — not so much because she left me at the club, but because of that disgusting Michael. Still, I didn't stay mad for long.
"And what are you proposing?" Such a serious tone. I could just picture Collins folding his arms across his chest in his signature manner, his brows furrowed in tension. When had I ever learned all his habits and mannerisms?
"Well, I don't know," Lydia drawled, sighing languidly. "Maybe we can come to some kind of agreement?"
I opened the door just a crack, to see what was going on inside. Don't blame a girl for her curiosity. I prayed for the slightest creak not to appear, and thankfully, there wasn't. My gaze immediately slid over the student's painfully short skirt. I was tempted to say, "Hey, miss, did you happen to forget to put your bottoms on at home?" Charmingly, in her typical slutty way, Lydia bit her lower lip, slowly extending her hand toward the teacher, innocently fluttering her long false eyelashes, which I noticed even without my glasses.
"Scott!" a strange pop sounded, causing me to jump up. "Are you completely out of your mind? Get out!"
"Well, Chris!.."
"Chris? Who the hell do you think you are?" Collins growled angrily. "Either you get out of my office right now, or you'll have to explain to the principal what you offered the teacher for a good grade."
"You'll like it, believe me!" Scott persisted, standing her ground.
"I'm not interested in minors," the biologist spat in her face, offended. It was then that I couldn't help but grin, remembering our kiss.
You're not interested in minors, really, Mr. Collins?. I wouldn't know it from looking at you.
Yeah, Scott's a real flirt, sure, but to offer that to a teacher for a good grade? Honestly, I'm completely shocked by her. Loudly clicking her long stilettos, which seemed longer than her skirt, Lydia practically flew out of the room; I barely had time to hide around the corner to avoid being caught. My desire to sort things out with the teacher vanished abruptly, and he probably wouldn't be interested in that right now. So I decided to quietly disappear home, as if I hadn't even been there.
Oh, how I loved homeroom instead of one of the regular classes — you have no idea. Listening to our teacher's lectures and moralizing was exactly how I wanted to spend the next forty-five minutes.
"The Autumn Ball is coming soon, my dears," Mrs. Derrickson announced, pacing across the classroom, her small heels clicking loudly against the floor as she scanned us through the thick lenses of her glasses. "And you are, after all, the eleventh grade."
A dissatisfied murmur spread across the room. Everyone clearly understood what she was about to say next.
"I'm not participating," Jimmy Clown mumbled, glancing around the class in confusion. Yes, his last name really was ridiculous. He frowned stubbornly. "Don't count me in."
"Everyone will participate," Derrickson delivered the "wonderful" news to the entire class.
Great. Just what I needed for complete happiness — an Autumn Ball. As if there wasn't already enough crap in my life. Saying that everyone was thrilled would be a massive understatement.
Later, when we gathered in the assembly hall, our homeroom teacher introduced us to the choreographer who would be preparing our class. Besides her, a couple of other teachers were watching us. And among them, of course, was the youngest teacher in the school — Mr. Collins. I still hadn't talked to him after… that.
Everyone quickly paired up. Only Mary Goldson and I were left. And, by the way, her last name perfectly matched her hair color — light wheat-blonde. I even felt relieved, thinking I wouldn't have to dance this ridiculous routine or take part in the Autumn Ball at all. But no — I celebrated too soon.
"Goldson, go with Mr. Filch, and you, Stryker, you'll be with Mr. Collins for now."
Well, that wasn't even bad luck creeping up — it just dropped straight on my head.
I let out a slow sigh, sitting on the painted bench as the biology teacher approached and gracefully extended his hand to help me up. Ignoring the gesture, I stood up on my own and, forcing myself, took my place beside him. The choreographer — a lean, very flexible man with barely noticeable muscles — began smoothly demonstrating the movements. Watching him, we slowly repeated everything.
"Is it just me, or are you mad at me?" Collins finally asked after a while, when the pairs began moving smoothly to the rhythm of the music blasting from the large speakers. His words made me let out a brief chuckle.
"Not at all," I replied calmly, lowering my voice slightly. "I'm just confused that my teacher kissed me."
"Confused?" For a moment, he didn't even try to hide his smirk. "If I remember correctly, you didn't resist much."
"If I remember correctly," I nearly mimicked him in front of everyone, "no one gave you the right to do that."
Yes, I was addressing him informally, even though we were at school. Though, frankly, he didn't seem to care about my bold tone.
"You're saying it like I did something wrong."
"And kissing your student is right?"
"I'll be honest — I wanted it, Lily," Collins admitted openly, looking into my eyes as if searching for some kind of reaction. "I was fully aware of what I was doing."
I scoffed at his self-satisfied tone, but that didn't stop him from continuing to state what I considered completely absurd:
"And if you hadn't wanted it," he emphasized the last word, "you wouldn't have kissed me back."
What nerve. I instantly felt my cheeks flush — but not from embarrassment. From anger. I was so irritated with the biology teacher that I wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face by any means possible. And I probably would have, if not for—
"Hey, someone's phone is ringing. Answer it," Mrs. Derrickson called out, raising her voice over the incredibly loud music while scanning the class for whoever would react.
A moment later, I realized it was my phone. Without finishing our "lovely" and very engaging conversation, I let go of the biology teacher's hand and hurried to answer the call.
Today our homeroom teacher dismissed us right after the rehearsal, announcing that there would be no more classes. But that still didn't make me any more eager to take part in that damn Autumn Ball. I grabbed my jacket from the cloakroom, politely said goodbye to Mrs. Button, and stepped outside.
At last, autumn had truly arrived. The yellowing leaves clung to the trees, swaying in the cold wind before being torn free and swept into small whirlwinds along the road.
"Lily, right?" I heard an unfamiliar voice behind me and quickly turned around.
"Nick." I recognized the guy who had celebrated his thirtieth birthday at the club on Saturday — and, incidentally, Collins's friend. What a coincidence.
"I take it you study here," he said, pointing at the school building as he slowly approached.
"Exactly," I nodded.
"Aren't classes over already?"
"I was dismissed," I exhaled, forcing a faint smile.
"Oh." Nick nodded knowingly. "I'm waiting for a friend… Hold on, you know him. Chris."
"Yes," I admitted reluctantly, thinking of that dark horse — Mr. Collins. "He's my teacher."
"Unlucky you," Nick laughed. "The only thing Chris can teach is how to smoke properly."
"Talking about me?" I hadn't even noticed when the very reason for this encounter appeared behind Nick.
"Yeah, man," Collins's friend replied briefly, turning to him. "Hey."
Well, he finally showed up. I figured it was time for me to leave. Preferably quickly and unnoticed. But suddenly Nick's words stopped my pathetic attempt to escape.
"Sorry about the other night, Lily," he said awkwardly. I frowned at first, then nodded in understanding. "You know, for making you listen to a drunk birthday guy's nonsense."
"I rescued her just in time," Collins added with his usual sharp tone.
"And hey, you'll come this weekend, right?" Nick suddenly asked, as if remembering something. "You should come. I'd make it up to you — besides, it's Chris's birthday."
"I don't think Mr. Collins would be happy about that," I tried to refuse as politely as possible. Being a guest at my teacher's birthday party — and with him there — was the last thing I wanted.
"I don't mind, Stryker," the biology teacher supported his friend's idea, ruining my already fragile plan to decline. I shot him such a reproachful look, as if he had just betrayed me, my ideals, and everything else.
"You know, my mom is very strict," I began uncertainly, recalling her call and the news that she'd be stuck on a business trip for an indefinite time and would send me money so I wouldn't starve. But Nick didn't know that. "And she'll be back soon. She definitely won't let me go anywhere."
"But your mother's still on her business trip, isn't she?" Collins cut through my weak excuse.
"How do you know that?" I had apparently forgotten all manners today, including addressing adults formally.
"She called me today. Said we could have lessons at your place — no one would bother us." A faint smirk spread across the biology teacher's lips, as if he were slowly rubbing my face in it and enjoying every second. Chris shoved his hands into the pockets of his cashmere coat against the cold, while I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the sudden wave of irritation. He had been getting on my nerves far too often today.
"Why does my teacher find out about this before I do?" I muttered rhetorically, then continued without waiting for an answer.
"Fine. I agree."
I sighed heavily, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the situation. What the hell? Why was all this happening to me? What had I done to deserve this since the beginning of this damn year?
"Well, I should go…"
"Need a ride?" the biology teacher offered indifferently.
"I'd rather walk," I replied with a sharp smile, actually clenching my teeth as I turned and walked away.
Honestly, I wish I'd had all my classes today. Then this meeting wouldn't have happened, no one would have made any plans, and everything would've stayed perfectly fine.
Well, at least for me.