TEACH ME: A sexy student teacher romance

by T. J. LONG

  I laugh at her story. “Well, please tell your mom I appreciate her basket and that it’s way better than the Fratelli’s.”

  She lets out a laugh. “If I tell her, she’ll invite you for dinner every night.’’

  I scoff and bring a hand to my chin. “That could work for me. I spent almost $300 on these.” I tell her as I point to my measly four bags of groceries.

  “What?” she gasps and brings a hand to her chest. “How the heck did you spend that much when you only have—” she walks closer to me to count how many bags are on the island—“four bags. Are you serious?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  She gets a knowing look on her face and tilts her head to the left while biting her bottom lip. I know she is speaking, but her bottom lip has me focusing on the wrong thing. I stick my tongue to my cheek and shake my head, hoping I can continue on with the conversation even though I have heard nothing she has just said. She furrows her brow and the corners of her mouth fall.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  My eyes get bigger because I have been found out. I suck my lips into my mouth and shut my eyes tight, trying to hold in my laugh. “No, I’m sorry.” 

  “I said did you go to Erewhon?”

  I nod my head. “I did.”

  Her hand raises, and she rests it on my shoulder. “You poor thing,” she says, genuinely frustrated for me. “Don’t shop there anymore. Everyone knows that place is overpriced.”

  “I have learned my lesson. It’ll never happen again.”

  I give her scout's honor, which makes her laugh.

  She raises her head, looking directly into my eyes, and smiles at me. I can’t look away. I feel myself getting lost in the swirls of honey and amber that make up her eyes. It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope, putting me in a trance. She’s so effortlessly breathtaking. No makeup, no fancy clothes. Her hair is up in an “I don’t give a fuck bun,” but damn, I’d love to give her a fuck or two.

  Damn it, I have to stop thinking like that. Off limits, that’s what she is.

  Her hand is still gripping my shoulder, and I can sense the electricity in the air making it thicker and harder to breathe. She licks her lips and smiles at me. I’m fighting myself every step of the way, but I take a step closer to her. Our bodies are practically touching. I can feel the heat radiating from her closeness. My hand slowly raises so I can caress her jaw. I shouldn’t go there. I’m not even supposed to have women on the brain right now, especially not this one.

  Her eyes shut and her lips part. My heart's beating hard in my chest. Do I feel nervous? What is wrong with me? I think. I have never been so drawn to anyone as I am to her and that's dangerous because she’s my neighbor. If this gets screwed up somehow, then I’m done here.

  Pull it together, Josh, I say to myself again. That’s been the theme throughout this whole exchange. I bite my lip hard to shock my system free of the spell Taylor is casting and gulp down my desire. I lower my hand while taking a step back, causing her hand to fall from my shoulder. Her eyes open and she looks embarrassed. Her cheeks have a pink flush to them now.

  I feel like an asshole. I turn to the bags of groceries still sitting on the island. I take a deep breath to steady myself then turn toward her. “Well, I should probably put this stuff away. Please thank your mom for me.” I hate dismissing her, but it is the safest option. I just hope I’m not making a mistake.

  Taylor

  I feel so stupid. This is the second guy now to reject me. I saw the way he looked at me. I know he... I thought he... wanted me. My eyes well up with tears, but I wipe them away with the back of my hand before they can flow freely down my face. Disappointment from what just happened brings back memories of me and Tristan, of how I wanted him and he didn’t want me. I don’t enjoy being kicked to the curb. It’s not a good feeling. Will I ever be enough for anyone? I seriously wonder.

  I open the front door to a very excited mom yelling from the kitchen. “So what did he think of the basket? You were gone a while. I was about to text you, honey.”

  I wipe the sad expression from my face and replace it with a smile as I meet her in the kitchen. I definitely don’t want to explain why I look sad after coming from the new neighbor's house. “You will be happy to know that he said it was way better than the Fratelli’s basket.”

  Her face beams with pride. “Well, that pleases me. I knew it would be though.”

  I laugh. “Mom, you’re so competitive.”

  She looks on defensively. “No, I’m not. Courtney is. She knew I had a welcome basket for him and she took hers early just to beat me to it. So tell me what took so long. Did you get lost in his eyes? I hear he’s a looker.”

  Embarrassment spreads across my face. “If you must know, I asked for some of my shortbread cookies.”

  She drops her Travel and Wine magazine to the table and turns to look at me. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  Her face falls. “Taylor Ann McCready, tell me you didn’t take a basket to his house and then demand for your cookies back!”

  I can’t help but laugh. She takes this stuff so seriously. “Mom, it’s fine. We made small talk and I casually asked if I could have a cookie. He thought it was funny. Honestly.”

  Most likely knowing she can’t do anything about it now, she drops it. “Fine, Taylor.” She lifts her hand to shoo me out of the room.

  “Before I go, you know what would be nice?” I smile lovingly at my mother. “It would be so cool, since I just sacrificed my cookies and delivered the basket for you, if you could, I don't know…” I look into space as if I’m in deep thought “.. possibly consider buying me a car.” I rush through the last part and it comes out in a jumble. “So I’m not the only senior in the entire school without one.”

  She gives me an unimpressed eye roll; my mom’s notorious for them. “Taylor, walking fifty feet to deliver a basket is not worthy of purchasing a car, but nice try. Dad and I will discuss it at a later date, for now…“ She shoos her hand again, and I take the hint, going to the fridge to grab a string cheese before heading for the stairs.

  Left to my own devices, I begin to wonder if I should text Jed. He seems to be the only one interested in me, and I still have the note he wrote me with his number on it. I get up from my cozy position on the bed and walk to my closet to grab my bookbag. I dig inside until I feel the sharp edges of the triangle nip at my fingertips.

  I sit on my bed, legs crossed Indian-style looking at the note and flipping it around in my hands. “To text or not to text, that is the question.”

  I don’t know if I’m just feeling desperate or lonely, but my phone is in my hand before I know it. I click on “Add a new contact” and type in his name and number and hit the button to create a new message.

  “Here goes nothing,” I say aloud as I begin to type away.

  Me: Hey, how’s your summer going?

  The way things are going for me lately he probably won’t even respond. Yet the bubbles show on the screen almost immediately, so I know I’m at least getting a message back. I let out a sigh of relief.

  Jed: Who’s this?

  My eyes close against another shot of embarrassment and I wonder if a human has ever died from such a fate. Cool, real cool, Taylor, I think, chiding myself for forgetting to mention who it is.

  Me: Sorry, It’s Taylor.

  And I cringe again wondering if that will clarify things sufficiently or if he perhaps knows more than one Taylor. Shit, maybe I should say something about the note he wrote me. The mounting anxiety gets the best of me, so I decide I’ll make it foolproof for him.

  Me: I was looking through my bookbag and I found the

  note you wrote me with your number on it.

  I get a response back right away.

  Jed: Taylor, baby, I’m so glad you finally decided to message me.

  My cheeks flush. Okay, we have landed a man, finally.

  Jed: What have you been
up to?

  Me: Not much. Swimming and lots of Netflix. lol

  Jed: Damn, you should have texted me earlier. I would have made your summer more eventful.

  My lips suck into my mouth and I hold in a smile. I have to be honest: Jed is not boyfriend material and I wouldn't give him my V-card. But a little make-out session here and there might be just what the doctor ordered to heal my bruised self-esteem. Would the Taylor of last year do something so promiscuous? Absolutely not, which is why I have to do it. I need to break out of this innocent shell so I can finally have a solid relationship with someone without shying away from the things I truly want.

  The thought shocks me. Wow, who am I right now? I question. A horny teenager, that’s who, my inner self responds.

  Me: Yeah, I should have texted earlier.

  Jed: It’s never too late. What are you doing Saturday?

  I squeal from excitement, finding myself hoping beyond hope that he will ask me on a date. I was feeling down after Josh practically kicked me out, but this correspondence, at least, has made me feel wanted. I pause, considering my response. I don’t want to come off too eager. Then I’ll surely look as desperate as I feel.

  Me: I think Ann wanted to stop by a party. I’m not sure I want to go just yet. What are you doing Saturday?

  Jed: Dickies party?

  Me: Yeah, I think so.

  Jed: Awesome, I’ll be there. I want to see you. Will you come for me?

  I let out a breath of nerves. I don’t think he meant that in the PG sense.

  I don’t want to lead him on too much so I don’t think it would be wise to flirt back to that. It’s not like I’m going to bone him at the party or anything. Oh gosh, Ann really is rubbing off on me.

  Me: Okay. I’ll ride with Ann. I’ll see you there.

  Jed: Excellent. I’ll see you Saturday, gorgeous.

  Wow, he’s laying it on heavy, I think as I put my phone on the charger and walk toward the closet to get into cozy jammies.

  Thinking about Saturday gives me butterflies in my stomach. As I hop into bed, my mind unintentionally goes to the one person I’m hoping to forget about—Josh. I made a plan with myself this summer that I wouldn’t allow myself to spend my time and mental energy on someone who doesn't make me feel wanted. But I can’t help remembering the way he looked at me tonight. He looked like he wanted to kiss me; I mean, that’s why I closed my eyes. The amount of embarrassment I felt when he moved away and my hand fell from his shoulder was immeasurable.

  My head smashes back into my pillow and I let out a frustrated huff, wishing the guys I liked wanted me back. Perhaps my second choice, Jed, would do.

  ***

  “I can’t believe you’re coming tonight.” Ann jumps up and down on my bed with a huge grin plastered to her face. Me going to parties is a dream for her. She’s so used to the Taylor that would rather stay home and read.

  “Yeah, me neither,” I say as I look at her with deer in headlights eyes. I’m going to pretend the nerves buzzing inside me aren’t there, because I know if I give into the anxiety I won’t make it to the car.

  She walks to my closet. “So, what are you wearing tonight?” She raises one eyebrow when she touches one of my old cheer uniforms.

  “Umm, no, definitely not that.”

  “I’m joking. Come here, my little prude slut. Let’s find you the perfect outfit for Jed to ravish you in.”

  I look around quickly and find a dress I tried on earlier—it failed the “I feel hot in this test”—and I throw it at her. She dodges it.

  “You may want to practice your aim.You’re losing your touch,” she says smugly.

  Frustration growing, I decide to be a child and stick my tongue out at her. “I seriously have no clue what to wear.” I slump down into a ball on the floor.

  She continues looking through my closet, trying to find me the perfect outfit. “You should probably wear something for easy access.” She looks at me and laughs when she sees the expression plastered to my face. I look like an owl clock I had as a child, with big eyes that moved from side to side.

  “Why are you making that face?” She kicks my leg with her foot.

  “I’m not screwing him tonight.”

  She gasps and puts her hand on her chest, narrowing her eyes at me. “Of course your not. Gosh. But you are planning for your first real make out and that involves touching.”

  Yeah, I guess she’s right. But I can’t help feeling completely out of my league with this kind of stuff. I reach my hand up and touch the seam of a tight red dress that still has the tags on it—another one of my aunt’s disposable designer purchases.

  “What about this?”

  She looks down to see what my hand is touching. “Ohh, la la. That could be hot.” She grabs the dress from the hanger and plops it on my head. “Try it on.”

  I pull it from my head and feel the static pulling my hair in all directions. “How’s my hair look?” I joke, and she pats my hair down and motions with her finger for me to stand up.

  “Try it on so we know if it’s a contender.”

  My tongue makes a return visit. “Okay, Mom.” I stand up and shimmy out of my jean shorts and lift my shirt over my head.

  “Nope,” she barks, and I stare up at her, confused

  “I don’t even have the dress on yet. What are you saying ‘nope’ to?”

  She points to the bikini briefs and bralette I’m wearing. “Those aren’t hot enough.”

  My head falls back and I let out a guttural sound. “Oh my gosh. If it's this hard, then maybe I should just stay home.”

  “Oh, stop. We are talking undies; it’s not like I’m making you shave.” Her head nods to my nether regions.

  My eyes shoot to her. “I’m not some hairy beast.”

  She lifts the band of my underwear and peeks at the small amount of hair there.

  I smack her hand away. “Oh, my gosh. Boundaries.”

  “Oh please! We don’t have boundaries!”

  “Clearly we need to make some.” I side eye.

  I rip the bra from my body and throw it to the floor. “Whatever, he isn’t seeing my vagina tonight, anyway.” I lift the dress over my head and pull it down, wiggling my hips so the tight fabric fits over my ass.

  “Damn. This is the one.” She nods her head up and down.

  I step forward to look at myself in the mirror.

  Damn is right. The dress looks like it was custom made for me. A faux wrap dress that cuts low so you can see the circular shape of my breast but without being too exposed. Tight in all the right places. I turn and twist so I can get a view of my ass, which looks fan-freaking-tastic.

  Oh yes, this is the one. A smile spreads across my face. I feel hot.

  After my hair and makeup are done, we head to Ann’s car. I take a small peek at Josh’s house on the walk down the driveway and let a small sigh escape. I see a light on and wonder what he’s doing.

  Then I chastise myself for even thinking about him. I will not think about guys who don’t think about me. I have to be done with people who don’t make me a priority.

  I can hear music coming from inside the party as soon as we pull into the driveway.

  “Is there a DJ?” I ask.

  “Sounds like it. These parties have been intense lately. Probably because it’s summer.”

  My heart beats faster than normal as I walk through the crowd of people to find Jed. Beer bottles and red solo cups litter the floor and I find myself dodging not just the mess but drunk, gyrating bodies as well. “Get a room,” I say aloud to a couple sucking face who have now bumped into me twice, but the music is so obnoxiously loud, they can’t hear me.

  The worst thing about these parties is the lack of respect and responsibility. Kids trash their homes and then force the maids to clean up their messes, refusing to get their hands dirty.

  Ann pulls my arm and whisper screams in my ear so I can hear over the music: “I think I saw Todd over there.” She points with her finger to t
he other side of the mansion. “Do you want to go look for him with me?”

  I shake my head. I came here for Jed and I want to find him before I chicken out. "I’m going to look for Jed. I’ll text you when I find him.”

  She mouths the word “Okay” and then walks away.

  After thirty minutes searching the whole house, I can’t seem to find him anywhere and I’m ready to give up. I sent him a text five minutes ago, but I’m sure it’s too loud in here to even hear a phone chime.

  I decide to sit near the garden and regroup. It’s the quietest place I've found in my quest to find my makeout buddy. I scroll on my phone and keep checking my texts, even though I know I have nothing new there.

  Branches break in the distance behind me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand. “What was that?” I whisper to myself. This is California; it could be a cougar or another dangerous wild animal. Nerves get the best of me, so I decide it’s best I get up and find some place else to chill until I hear from Jed.

  I pass throngs of annoying drunk people on my journey to a new quiet place. The pool area is less busy now, only a few drunk kids passed out on chairs. I walk over to a canopied lounger and try to get comfortable. I take my phone in my hand and check my messages again… still nothing.

  The back door opens and out walks Tristan with a girl on each arm. I slink back into the cushion, hoping the darkness will erase my presence. All I need right now is for him to see me sitting alone sulking at a party while he’s got hot and hotter on his arms.

  I huff out, “This is so unfair,” as my arms cross over my chest. Then I turn my sight to the pool house, which was full of people earlier. It looks empty now, so I wait until Tristan’s back is turned before hightailing it to its French doors.

  I walk in quietly and slump into the first chair I see. I take my phone out and text Jed again. If he doesn’t answer this time, I’m probably just going to leave.