“You’re hard on yourself about high school. You shouldn’t be. And any mistakes you made have been done with for a long time. Hunter needs to move on.” He touched the ends of my hair and twirled it between his fingers. “You were the best thing to happen to him and he probably hates himself for losing you.” He paused and added, “I know I would.”
I smiled wistfully at his compliment. “Hunter is convinced I betrayed him. It’s the reason he hates me so much.” I looked down at my lap as I said, “What he said about my teacher…”
Blake’s voice was strangled. “Autumn, please don’t feel like you have to explain anything to me. Anything those idiots had to say carries no weight in my mind.”
I looked at him from under my lashes. Blake was good to me and I was glad he wasn’t the type of man to demand answers after Hunter’s accusations. He accepted whatever I was willing to give him.
I think about running for a split second—bolting out the door and finding my own way home. It seemed less terrifying than having to hit Blake over the head with the tale of my own sordid personal tragedy. But for the first time in forever, wanting Blake outweighed hiding away my pain.
“I didn’t sleep with a teacher. Mr. Bridges was my math teacher and I spent a lot of time with him because I struggled in pre-calculus.” I dug my fingernails into my palm as I continued. “Mr. Bridges had a reputation. He was one of the school’s football coaches and the rumor was he favored students who cheered. My friends thought if I flirted a little, it would help my grade out. I never thought…”
Blake looked like he was about to get violently ill. He didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he vacantly stared through the windshield and I could see his mind whirring, trying to make sense of my words. He seemed to be holding back, wanting to push me to tell him more, but scared at the same time of what I’d say.
I tried not to focus on my humiliation and relay the story as if I was an outside observer. “Anyway, Mr. Bridges must’ve picked up on my lame attempts at flirting and he offered to tutor me. He made promises, told me he could help me get into a school in New York and would work with me to win a lot of scholarship money in order to afford it. ”
Blake swung back toward me and I could see the growing sadness in his eyes. He swallowed hard and took my hand in his. His intentions were clear. He wanted to be supportive, but hearing a story of someone he cared about getting hurt was painful. I had planned to give him an abridged version of the story, but if I was going to reveal my past, I wouldn’t hold anything back.
Chapter Seventeen
“I wish Mr. Bridges taught my math class. I would totally be slutting it up like you,” Faye teased as she leaned her back into the locker next to mine.
I slapped her shoulder playfully. “I’m not slutting it up for Mr. Bridges.” I swung my head back and forth to check the hallway. The halls had emptied out since school ended an hour earlier, but Hunter had mentioned going to the weight room after classes. I could imagine him materializing at the other end of the hall as Faye accused me of trying to seduce my teacher. “Besides, don’t let Hunter hear you say that, he’ll go crazy.”
Faye blew out an exaggerated breath. “Why do you bother with Hunter? He’s like a jealous freak when it comes to you.”
I frowned. “Give him a break. He’s going through a lot right now. I would probably be a little touchy too if I had to deal with his mom.”
“We’re going to be seniors in a couple of months. We need to free ourselves of these high school boys. Hunter may be a popular basketball player at Newpine, but once he goes to a college with a population of more than four hundred, he’ll be a nobody again.”
I pulled my math textbook out of the locker and slammed it firmly. “Be nice, Faye. He’s my boyfriend.”
“I know. I think I’m just feeling bitchy because I still don’t have a date for the prom. Talon asked me, but I told him I wanted to see if I could do better first…”
I smirked. “Faye, you didn’t! But you probably have a point. He’s nice to look at, but a cocky jerk most of the time. Brings his attractiveness down a few notches.”
“I need someone to take back to the hotel afterwards and it looks like Talon may be the lucky guy. You and I’ll both get laid and then we can commiserate over breakfast the next morning about how small Hunter and Talon’s junk is.”
“You’re crazy. I want a romantic first time with Hunter…”
“And you’re delusional if you think your first time sleeping with Hunter will be romantic. You’re both going to be lost over what to do. I recommend lots of porn before prom night.” Faye’s brown eyes glittered. “Or you could just practice with Mr. Bridges. He’s not bad looking for an old guy and at least you know he’s experienced.”
“I’m leaving now,” I said and spun on my heel away from her. My black sandals clicked against the floor as I rushed down the hall.
“You know you want it, you sexy bitch,” Faye called teasingly down the hall. I tried to take confident steps, but Faye had flustered me. Her sexual innuendoes were conveniently timed since she knew I was off to my after-school tutoring session with Mr. Bridges. I shook off her words and plastered on a bright smile. Mr. Bridges held the keys to the things I wanted in life and I’d play the game to get them. I smoothed down my red skirt and knocked on his classroom door before entering.
He was bent over paperwork, but looked up and beamed as I came into the room. “Hi, Autumn. Sorry for making you stop in later than usual, but I had a staff meeting I couldn’t miss.”
“No problem. Faye stayed behind with me.”
Depositing myself in a desk at the front of the classroom, I crossed my bare legs in front of me. His blue eyes gazed down until moving to rest on my white top. The fabric clung to my skin and the neckline dipped to just above my cleavage. My palms began to sweat under his inspection and I wondered if I should make an excuse to leave. Faye’s words had bothered me and I needed some time to consider my intentions. How far was I willing to take the flirting game with Mr. Bridges? He promised to help me and I knew he had taken liberties with my grades. Laughing at his jokes and flipping my hair was one thing, but allowing him to gape at me like he was a starving man who had finally stumbled upon a five-course meal was another. It was the first time since tutoring started that he made me feel cheap.
“So, let’s go over Friday’s quiz. Do you have the practice tests I gave you?”
His smile was affable and I shook off the early feelings of unease. Even if he had been checking me out, I reasoned it didn’t mean anything. I was young and pretty and he liked what he saw. He may have enjoyed the view, but he would never try to take it any farther.
Mr. Bridges was the most well-liked and admired teacher at Newpine. He taught sophomore and junior math classes while also coaching the football team in the fall. He was easygoing and had a relaxed way of teaching and coaching. The players liked him because he had a quiet passion that he used to inspire them in lieu of hurling insult after insult their way. The whole town loved him for putting Newpine’s championship football team on the map.
When he had offered to tutor me a month earlier I hadn’t passed on the opportunity. I liked how he talked when we were alone. He made me feel like I was something special and not just another follower of Faye’s. He would tell me about his family and how he got into teaching and football. He had a teacher who helped him get into college on a football scholarship and he felt like he was paying it forward by working with me to improve my grades.
The material for the quiz was hard to grasp and Mr. Bridges patiently explained the concepts. My brain had a mental block when it came to anything math-related. Although I was struggling, he never made me feel stupid. He would wait until the light bulb went off and sit back and admire his handiwork.
“See, isn’t pre-calc fun?” he quipped.
“Loads,” I giggled. “Thank you for this. If I can get a B in your class, I think my parents will die from shock.” I looked outside and frowned at the dark
ening sky. “I didn’t realize how late it was.” I had turned my phone off and realized I likely missed dinner.
“Me either. My wife will probably lace my supper with arsenic if I don’t get home soon.” He stood up and motioned to the door. “It’s getting dark, so let me walk you to your car.”
“Thanks,” I said and slipped my canvas bag over my shoulder. I felt bad for making him walk me to the student parking lot, a hike compared to the faculty lot, but I would feel safer if he saw me off.
The student lot was behind the football field and adjacent to the main building of the high school. It was a tiny lot with an unpaved surface and a few lampposts. The lot had completely emptied out and my Toyota was the last remaining car. Sports practices had ended about a half hour earlier and there must have been no other events scheduled for the night.
Mr. Bridges chattered as we made our way to my car. He spoke about his kids and wife often and he was telling me a story about how his daughter had asked him to teach her how to play football. She wanted to start her own co-ed team at her school. The way he spoke about his family was sweet and I reasoned I shouldn’t have been so weirded out before when he looked me up and down. I had dressed with intent and I shouldn’t have been so shocked when I was able to produce a reaction from him.
I arrived at my Honda and unlocked the passenger side door. I tossed in my bag before turning to thank Mr. Bridges. I was taken off guard by his nearness as I swung around. My elbow bumped into his chest as I moved to face him. With Mr. Bridges in my personal space, I noted how much larger he was than me. He was a head taller with a husky build and slight paunch.
“Do you have a boyfriend, Autumn?”
“Yes, Hunter Cirillo,” I answered automatically. I realized a second too late how inappropriate it was for my teacher to ask if I had a boyfriend.
“Oh yes, Mr. Cirillo. He was in my geometry class last year. Not the brightest student if I recall. It took two weeks of having him cut out shapes for him to grasp the idea of an isosceles triangle.” Mr. Bridges leaned in closer. I automatically pressed my back into the car’s doorframe. “Is he good to you? Does he make you feel good about yourself?”
My head felt dazed from his words and my eyes darted from side to side. If anyone else was around, he would back off and I could get into my car and drive away. “Yes,” I whispered. I began to fidget, trying to make it crystal clear how much I wasn’t liking how little space stood between us. “You’re making me very uncomfortable right now.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought you were feeling the same thing I was. There’s something here. I’m not imagining it, right?” His voice was laced with desire and he stayed planted in front of me.
My eyesight blurred as tears stung my eyes. “No, you’re my teacher…”
“What about how familiar you’ve been around me? And how provocative you’ve been dressing since tutoring began?” His voice was mocking and I was flooded with shame and remorse. He had assumed the flirtatiousness was an invitation. To him, he saw my clothes as a representation of a pretty little bow I tied over my body.
I pushed down my embarrassment and allowed righteous indignation to sneak into my expression. “You have the wrong idea and you’re freaking me out. Just walk away and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I saw your flushed cheeks when I looked at you before. You liked it, right? Liked the idea I was peeking up your skirt and thinking about your pussy?”
His words defiled me and I was too shocked to speak. It was an out-of-body experience, a waking nightmare where my teacher tried to seduce me. Sweat formed under my arms. “No. That’s not true and please stop saying these things to me.”
I was naïve because I thought my words would be enough. I never thought he’d act on his feelings. I was still under the misguided impression Mr. Bridges was a good man who had just been a victim of crossed signals. When his hands gripped my waist, the panic finally set in.
“Autumn, don’t be scared. No one has to know about us. And I’ll stand by my word, I’ll help you out any way I can.”
He was bearing down and it felt as though the force of his stare would cause me to incinerate on the spot. I had tempted a wild animal and he pounced at the first sign of weakness. I had to figure out a way to talk myself out of the situation or make a run for it. I was unmatched physically and my only hope was to take him by surprise.
I tried to dart around him, but he tightened his hold and threw me back inside of the car. My legs were splayed across the passenger seat with my feet still sticking out of the car. Quickly, he shoved the passenger seat to a reclining position before moving inside of the car. He covered his body with mine and I attempted to push him off of me. He was unmovable. “Please stop…”
When he didn’t change position, I opened my mouth to scream. Rubbery lips pushed against mine and I was silenced. When my teeth clamped down, preventing his tongue from finding it way inside, he stopped and used his palm to cover my mouth. I choked back a sob as the smell of chalk assaulted my nostrils. “Shh,” he commanded. “You made it clear what you were offering. And you took what I gave you. If you weren’t interested, you should’ve never accepted the better grades.”
My whole body jerked as he took his free hand and ran it up the length of my thigh. He reached the hem of my underwear and tugged at it. I was stuck under him, but I tossed side to side, trying to escape. My elbow grazed the horn, but the sharp beep didn’t distract him from his single-mindedness. He kept me pinned on top of the cloth seats with the shifter digging into my spine. The awkward position made it difficult for him to pull down my underwear. I was horrified when I heard the sound of cotton tearing, exposing me completely.
Time sped up and later I would only be able to recall the events as if I was viewing a collection of snapshots. My thighs refused to stay glued together as he roughly dug his nails into my knees. My skirt had lifted in the struggle and the hemline was bunched around my waist. He had stripped me bare, demanding my nakedness without my consent. He looked me over with undisguised lust on his face. Tears spilled out of the corners of my eyes as I continued to fight him off. But it was becoming so hard. It would be easier to just disassociate, to separate my brain from my body, and to not feel the agony.
He positioned his frame between my legs, preventing me from closing them. He reached under my blouse and fondled my breasts. His hands were rough and greedy, squeezing and pinching at my nipples. I yelled out, my muffled screams begging for him to make it stop. He licked his lips, taking pleasure from my cries and from being able to completely own my body.
“You like it, don’t you, baby?” Spittle fell on top of my face as he spoke.
He removed his hand from under my shirt and rested it on top of my mound. Please stop, I begged him with my eyes. I wanted him to see me, view me as a person, as the girl who he had in his class second period. Because if he saw Autumn again and not a sexual object then maybe he would let me go.
“So fucking hot,” he mumbled.
My body shook with shock and pain as he shoved his fingers inside of me. I wanted to hide in the farthest recesses of my brain and only emerge once he finished. Because I couldn’t stand to feel the sensation of being touched against my will. It was the worst kind of vulnerability, a defenselessness where my body was the pawn in a game a twisted man had forced me to take part in. And it didn’t stop—endless amounts of time marched on as he violated me over and over again.
Mr. Bridges rose off of my body, his face hovering above me. He no longer looked me in the eyes, his gaze trained only on what he was doing to my body. He slid his fingers out of me and brought his hand back to his body. The sound of his pants being unzipped crushed the silence and had the effect of forcing me out of my self-imposed stupor.
I had held onto my virginity, wanting to share my first time with Hunter. I had heard the stories of my friends’ firsts. There were tales of regret intermingled with stories of first love. I craved the latter and it w
as about to be stolen from me. My first time would be a forced sexual encounter with my teacher, a man more than twice my age who up until minutes ago had been a trusted advisor. There would be no romance and flowers, only a potent combination of blood and tears.
A black and powerful rage forced its way through my hopelessness. He wouldn’t hurt me a moment longer. He had stolen my trust and my faith, but he wouldn’t walk away from the night with my virginity as another one of his spoils.
His hold relaxed as he fumbled with his pants. With his body no longer pressed into me, my hands were free to attack him with as much force as possible. I curled my hands into fists and launched a punch against his chest. My knuckles stung as I pulled away. He had been crouching over me as he undid his pants and the hit was enough to cause him to stumble farther back. I pulled my leg out from under him while he remained stunned, and I concentrated on pushing through his heavy body. I drove the heel of my sandals into his gut. He tried to grab onto my leg to keep from falling out of the car, but he was unsuccessful. He tumbled onto the gravel and landed on his backside. Instantly, he sprung up and tried to reenter the car. I grabbed the door handle and tried to close it before he could make his way inside again. I was remorseless as I slammed the door into his spine and I swore if he wouldn’t get out of the way, I would crush his bones until he was no longer a threat. He clambered to his feet and at the last second he jumped out of the way as I pulled the door shut. My palm slammed down on the lock at the same time he reached the door handle. My panic eased as the door didn’t budge. I hopped over to the driver’s seat and hit the automatic locks to keep him from entering the car from the driver’s side.
His palms smacked on the passenger window and I could hear his rage-filled screams as I tried to search through my bag for the car keys. I tuned him out, allowing his hateful words to fly over my head. I found the keys nestled on the bottom of my canvas bag but my relief was short-lived, as I dropped them onto the floor. I scrambled to grab them, cursing as my trembling fingers tried to retain their hold on them. The car shook with the force of the blows Mr. Bridges was delivering to the windows and doors and I wondered how much longer I had until he ripped a hole in my car and dragged me out by my hair.
Falling for Autumn Page 15