The Unexpected You

by Emily N. Kay

  He is wearing black framed glasses today, which kind of makes him appear a tiny bit smarter, and more like a teacher.

  What is he doing here? And where is Mrs. Lucas?

  Zoe looks at me, her eyes full of questions. She must be as confused as I am.

  The guy walks toward the computer in front of the class, turning it on and typing some stuff. Oh, I see. He must be an IT guy.

  But then he looks up and smiles before saying, “Hello, class. You’re probably wondering why I’m here, who am I, and where is Mrs. Lucas.” He pauses for something. A reaction maybe.

  No one dares to speak. Everyone is staring at him.

  He continues, “Well, you can call me Mr. Chase. I’m going to be teaching this class for the rest of this semester. As you may know, or not know, Mrs. Lucas has taken maternity leave for the time being. Sorry to disappoint, but this is how it is. So, let’s get along, alright?”

  Wait, what? This pervert guy from yesterday is a teacher? Our teacher? Zoe and I exchange a look that says, we’re fucked. The main reason we want to take this class is because of Mrs. Lucas. Now what? It’s too late to drop the class now, other classes are all filled up.

  “What I want you guys to do now is to introduce yourself, so I can get to know each one of you. Just take a piece of paper and write down who you are. Tell me some facts about yourself. And also, why you chose to take this class, and what you hope to gain from it.” Mr. Chase glances around the class, looking at each one of us. And when his gaze lands on me, his eyes blink in recognition, and a corner of his lip curls up.

  Annoyed, I drop my gaze and get my notebook out from the binder.

  “At least we don’t have to say these out loud,” Zoe whispers to me.

  I nod in agreement, my face burning. I take a peek at Mr. Chase. He is now sitting at the teacher desk, sipping on his coffee. Maybe he is not that bad of a teacher. Maybe I’ve judged him too quickly… over our unfortunate encounter yesterday. He definitely has a teacher vibe now that I carefully look at him. A good looking one.

  His piercing blue eyes suddenly slide to me, like he knows I’ve been staring. I flinch a little, but I keep my eyes on him, trying to erase the image of him being a pervert from my mind and think of him as a teacher.

  He is my teacher. I need to find a way to respect him.

  “Is there a question? Miss…?” Mr. Chase cocks his head, raising an eyebrow at me. And everyone starts turning their heads.

  Oh my God. Is he trying to humiliate me in front of everyone?

  Clearing my throat, I say meekly, “Anderson. And… no. No questions.”

  “All right then,” he says, his gaze steady.

  Zoe glances at me, trying to suppress her laugh.

  I scowl at her. Then I start writing, not looking up for the rest of the class.

  “Look like someone is, for sure, getting an A,” Zoe sings, biting her lower lip and looking at me teasingly. “For the record, I think he’s kind of cute.”

  After filling her in on the little incident I had with Mr. Chase, not leaving out the part where I think he is a pervert, Zoe just could not resist making it a thing.

  We are having lunch at our usual table in the cafeteria––the one nearest to the trashcan (don’t ask why). Leo is at practice, so it’s just the two of us today. Like old times.

  “Doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s a creep,” I argue. “What kind of a teacher would look at a student’s––”

  “Tits,” Zoe finishes, barking out a laugh. “Maybe he didn’t know you’re a student. To me, you don’t look much like a high school student.”

  I frown. “Is that a compliment?”

  Zoe shrugs, smiling. “Men are men. And you are an escort! You practically live for older, creepy men to look at you.”

  She does have a point... “But it’s different when he’s my teacher. Imagine if Mr. Douglass is my client…” I shudder.

  Zoe grimaces and makes a vomiting sound. “Ew! That’s different. Mr. Douglass is much older than Mr. Chase!”

  “Still, they’re both teachers,” I say while finishing the last spoonful of my mac and cheese.

  “At least Mr. Chase is cute,” she says matter-of-factly.

  I shrug in response.

  Then we continue laughing about how gross it would be if Mr. Douglass is a client for the rest of our lunch time.

  Lacey: Girl, you have a client tonight.

  My heart is racing as I’m staring at the text. Here comes another paycheck.

  Me: Details?

  Lacey: Nick, 28, a teacher from California. Meet him at the same hotel you went last time. Tomorrow, 6pm sharp. Room 411.

  My hands tremble as I stare at Lacey’s message. A teacher? Is this a joke? I just talked about this with Zoe today. What a funny coincidence…

  Me: I’ll be there. Anything else I need to know?

  Lacey: Nothing… Other than the fact that he called to book an appointment without looking through the website. I just think it’s funny he doesn’t have any preferences. Lol. I hope he likes you though… Good luck!

  I raise my brow at this. He didn’t pick me… What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m too young for him?

  No, I can do this, I tell myself. I’ve been with clients way older than this guy before. I don’t have to tell him my age if he’s not asking.

  I look at my reflection on the glass elevator door. I’m wearing the same heels, same dress, and a new shade of red lipstick––a darker shade. Hopefully, I look older than eighteen. I comb through my wavy hair with my fingers as a finishing touch.

  Standing in front of the wooden door labeled, 411, I inhale deeply and press the bell button.

  Silence. No response, no sound coming from the inside.

  Maybe the sound system is broken. I start to knock on the door when it abruptly opens, my fist freezes in the air as I take in the man in the room standing in front of me.

  The guy is looking at me with his blue eyes wide open. This damn pair of blue eyes…

  “Mr. Chase?” I whisper.

  “You…” He looks me up and down, taking me in, and a realization flashes on his face. “What the hell?”

  Chapter 6

  Life is funny.

  Nick––my client for today––is Mr. Chase.

  Nick Chase. My teacher.

  Apparently, I was right about him being a pervert.

  Mr. Chase (or I guess now I should call him Nick) runs his hand hastily through his dark blonde hair, his eyes closed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m your escort… for tonight.” When he doesn’t move, I say nervously, “Can I come in so we can talk?”

  Time seems to pass by so slowly every second that I’m standing here, outside of the room he is in. The room we’re supposed to meet––for our appointment.

  “Um, yeah. Come in.” He blinks as if he just gets snapped back to reality. The reality that his escort turns out to be his student.

  I seat myself on the end of the king-sized bed. Nick lowers himself to a chair across from me, his expression unreadable, still shocked I suppose. Clearly, this is not the night he expected.

  “Obviously, I can’t tell anyone,” I carefully begin, trying to keep my voice steady, as if I’m not freaking the fuck out right now.

  Nick. Mr. Chase. Nick. My client. Mr. Chase. Fuck!

  He doesn’t say anything, his brow knitted together.

  I inhale deeply before I say, “I won’t tell anyone. And you, Mr. Chase… you have to keep this a secret too. Nobody can know that I’m an escort.”

  Nick finally shows a sign of reaction. He blinks, his eyebrows shooting up. “An escort…” He shakes his head slowly. “You––what’s your name––” He squints his eyes. “Is it Alice?”

  “Oh, so you do remember me.”

  “Of course, I do. You––” He tousles his hair. “You’re in my class. I read your paper.” He shakes his head again. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. An escort…” he repeats. “What–�
��what the hell am I doing here with you? Is it okay for you to be here? How old are you…?”

  What am I doing here? He’s the one calling for me!

  I try to remain calm. “For the record, I’m eighteen, Mr. Chase. Please don’t freak out.”

  Nick gapes at me. “Are you not freaking out? What is wrong with you!” He forcefully laughs. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Trust me, Mr. Chase, I did not expect this to happen either.” I take a deep breath. “Can I just call you Nick?”

  He lets out a snort.

  I’ll take that as a yes. “So,” I say, “what do we do now? I mean, you already paid for me…”

  Nick stares at me. “This is fucked up.” He shakes his head for the millionth times. “I mean, why? Is it even legal? You’re still in high school!” He spits the last word with exasperation.

  “Okay, you need to listen.” I lean closer to him, wanting to explain. He is still my teacher. He is the one who is going to grade me. I can’t have him look down on me even more. “I know your first impression of me wasn’t… great. And now this.” I sigh. “Just so you know, it is perfectly legal, as long as you don’t have sex with me.” I notice him winces at the word. “And I know that’s not happening. Right…?” I pointedly look at him. “Wait, please tell me you’re not going to––”

  “No!” he cries out. “I’m not going to––” he doesn’t finish the sentence as he grimaces, his eyes squeeze shut.

  I allow myself a sigh of relief at the reassurance. “Thank God.”

  “Look, I don’t want to get in any trouble, okay? You are my student. And it’s wrong for me to even look at you this way.”

  I blink in surprise. “In what way, Mr. Chase?” I cross my arms and cock my head.

  I was right. He really looked at me in a creepy way at the stairs. And now…

  “Stop it, Alice. I mean it,” he says sharply. “It’s hard enough for me as it is. Seeing you…” He gestures at me, looking me up and down. “Like this.”

  I know how he sees me––a slut, a kid with problems. “Like what, Nick?”

  If he is uncomfortable with how I called him, he doesn’t show it. Seems like he really doesn’t care. He finally says, “I’m just saying, we need to get one thing straight.” He then looks at me, his face all serious. “We shouldn’t be here together. It’s all just a misunderstanding.”

  This is surprising. He is actually trying to resist me. Well I guess… he has more conscience than I give him credit for.

  “But you already paid,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I know it’s not cheap…”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he says dismissively. “You are free to go.”

  Just like that? Now he’s making me feel guilty… Why am I guilty? This is madness!

  “You don’t have to chase me away. I am here as your escort. I’m not going to just take your money and leave,” I tell him.

  “Alice, please… I am the client here, and I’m cancelling this appointment.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry to disappoint. You must have expected an amazing night with a beautiful woman, but instead you got me.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Alice. Just… go home,” he says tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

  I frown. I hate this feeling. The feeling I get when I’m being dismissed, like I’m unwanted. The fresh wound of Jacob ignoring me surfaces, my throat tightening.

  “I’m just trying my best here, Nick. Think of it this way––you hired me to do whatever you want, and I’m here to do it. No labels, no judgement. This can be our secret,” I offer. I don’t know where this confidence comes from, or why I’m even persisting. I just know that I don’t want to leave now.

  His brow shoots up. “Seriously, you still want this to go on? Is this some kind of a fantasy to you? What, an intimate relationship with your teacher?” He scoffs. “Get over it, kid.”

  I tense up at the word. “Oh, please. Get over yourself, Mr. Chase,” I snap back.

  “Are you having problems, Alice? I mean, at home or…”

  I glare at him, and all I see is his concern for me. I let out a forced laugh. “Seriously? Now you’re trying to figure me out? Well then, let me ask you some questions too.” I get up from the bed and drag another chair toward him. Nick’s eyes follow me as I sit across from him directly. “Are you lonely? Unhappy? Divorced? Are you married?” I look at his hands. “I don’t see a ring. Unless you took it off before––”

  He cuts me off. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

  “Well, most of the clients––they’re either divorced, unhappy with their love life, or just… lonely,” I say, remembering what Lacey told me. “So, which are you?”

  Nick lets out a soft laugh, his dimple visible. “That––may be true for a lot of men. But sadly I don’t identify with any of them.” He folds his arms and level his stare at me.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? Then why did you hire me?”

  “I didn’t hire you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Go home, Alice.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, I’m sorry you didn’t get what you paid for.”

  “I told you not to worry about it.”

  “The only reason you hired an escort is to have someone to mess around with, and you can’t do that with me because of your moral or whatever. But I mean, if you can look past that––”

  He raises up a hand, his brow furrowing. “What are you saying?”

  “I just––I feel bad for not living up to your expectations.”

  Nick looks at me for a long moment. There is a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Then he takes a deep breath and says, “Fine. Do you want to have dinner with me then?”

  I blink. Funny enough, it feels like being asked out on a date. Except this date is a lot older, and he happens to be my teacher.

  He adds, “Just a casual, doing-nothing-wrong-with-a-student kind of dinner.”

  I chuckle at that, finding myself smiling. “Dinner sounds good, Mr. Chase.”

  Chapter 7

  Nick takes me to a pizza place quite far from the hotel. It’s actually in the neighborhood Zoe lives in. The shop is small, with only four, small tables near the glass window. This place is filled with people lining up to get a slice. But only one table is occupied––our table.

  “Your feet must hurt,” Nick says as he observes me taking of my heels and stretching my legs.

  “They are,” I reply. “But it’s fine. I’ll do whatever and go to wherever my client wants.” I mockingly flash him a smile.

  “Stop saying client. Geez.” He gives me a look.

  I grin. “Let’s just hope this place is worth it.”

  I don’t understand why he refused to take a cab. Maybe he likes to walk, or maybe he just wants to use up the time with me as soon as possible. Whatever it is, my feet hurt like hell.

  When he suggested dinner, I thought he’d take me to a fancy restaurant or something, like how the other clients would. But then again, he is not like other clients. As my teacher, he wouldn’t want to run into anyone he knows. Being seen with me––an eighteen-year-old escort who is also his student––that would be awkward. Or maybe he doesn’t want to spend any more money on me. That makes sense too.

  “It will be worth it,” he says. “Stay here.” As if I’d run away… I nod as he gets up and walks over to stand in line for ordering.

  I look out the window as I wait. Wouldn’t it be funny if Zoe suddenly walks in with her mom? This is around the corner of where she lives after all.

  I play out the scenario in my head. First, Zoe would spot Nick waiting in line. Then she’d be introducing her mom to her new teacher. Then their gazes will eventually fall upon where I’m sitting. They’ll see me with my tight dress and heavy makeup. And even Zoe won’t be able to cover for me. Her mom will piece the pieces together. And… my life is over. Zoe’s mom is good friends with my mom. There is no way she’ll keep this secret for my sake.

&
nbsp; My thoughts are interrupted as Nick comes back with two plates of a New York-style pepperoni pizzas in his hands.

  “I should’ve asked earlier, but I hope you eat meat…” He squints at me questioningly.

  “I do. Wow, this looks amazing.” I eye the glorious slice of pizza in front of me. It’s huge. “How do you even know about this place anyway? I’ve always walked passed it without a second glance.”

  He looks up. “You live around here?”

  “No, my best friend does. So I basically live here.” Speaking of living… “Wait, didn’t you say you’re from California?”

  “Yeah… so?”

  “So how did you know to come here? You found it on Yelp or something?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I used to live in New York for a chunk of my life. Trust me, I know where to go for good pizzas.” He grins, a dimple flickering. He has a cute dimple, I have to note.

  “Oh.” I nod. “So why are you here now?” Then I realize that sounded a bit crude, so I add, “I mean… why did you move?”

  “I’m just here temporarily to fill in for Nancy. I mean Mrs. Lucas. She’s my friend.”

  “She is?” Well that’s interesting… “Mrs. Lucas is very sweet, though. How are you two friends?” Again, I didn’t mean it like that, but I let it go this time.

  Nick looks at me amusedly. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I not sweet enough to be her friend?”

  I shrug, looking down at the pizza. “I don’t know. You don’t seem like a type of guy who… I don’t know.”

  “Right…” he trails off. “What kind of guy do you think I am?” He tilts his head, seeming genuinely interested in where the subject of this conversation is going.

  A pervert, I’m about to say, but I hold my tongue. “I mean, when you bumped into me at the stairs, you––”

  His eyes widen. “Oh, that was my fault? You can’t blame me for looking. Your shirt was undone right there,” he says, pointing at my chest.

  I stare at him, dead-eyed. Then I start to crack up. “Hey, I was talking about the fact that you almost killed me. But that too. Sure.” I take in his panicked face, and I can’t help myself from laughing.