It's dangerous. Even with his tinted windows there is always a chance someone nearby could see in, but no one is around so we're safe from unwanted eyes. When he breaks the kiss I'm panting, flushed, horny, and willing to cancel the date and go back to his place so he can take care of the aching he's stirred down south just from his kiss.
He's dressed so normal today in a pair of new chucks, distressed jeans, and a witty graphic history t-shirt. His hair is damp, drying in loose waves and his face is bare with no sign of his glasses anywhere. He must be wearing contacts.
Landon hasn't shaved, and I love that because the feeling of his five o'clock shadow between my legs is heavenly. He smells fresh and clean, with a hint of his cologne teasing my nostrils. His breath smells as intoxicating as it always does, a mixture of mint and coffee. Who knew this smell could turn me on so much?
He's my handsome coffee addict.
"So what's the plan once we get to Knoxville?" I ask excitedly, trying to distract myself from ripping his clothes off his body and going down on him during the long drive.
He clasps my hand in his before pulling out of the GG-mart and onto the main street. "I thought we could get a bite to eat somewhere in the Market Square and then maybe catch a movie. Going to the movies with your girlfriend is kind of a right of passage and we haven't had a chance to do it yet."
His plans sound nice and normal for a couple, but I'm more focused on something specific he's said. "You called me your girlfriend. Am I officially your girlfriend?"
He looks over at me and flusters his words. "I...well, shit. I guess we never talked about it before but I assumed you were my girlfriend." He suddenly sounds unsure of himself so I squeeze his hand to assure him, rubbing my thumb against the back of his hand.
"I've wanted to be your girlfriend, to have a title binding me to you. I want you to claim me this way so if you're asking me then my answer is yes."
He lets out a deep, relaxed sigh. "Then I'm definitely asking you."
"Then yes, I'd love to be your girlfriend, although the word doesn't come close to justifying the connection I feel with you. The word doesn't seem...enough." I can't believe I just said that but I guess him declaring me as his girlfriend gave me the confidence I needed to pursue this further.
"I know what you mean,” he agrees with me and knowing he might feel what I'm feeling sends a warm, fuzzy feeling throughout my body.
"Landon, do you see a future with me?" My voice comes out shaky but I continue anyway. "I've been wondering about this for so long and scared about what your answer might be. I don’t want this to end between us when I graduate. I want to really try a relationship, a long-term relationship with you. I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone before, and I don’t want to lose you when I get my diploma."
"Hey," he says tenderly, pulling the car over to the side of the road and putting it in park. He bends his right knee and turns to face me. His free hand comes up to cup my cheek. "When I envision my future the only thing I see set in stone is you. I didn’t picture this life for me, falling in love with my student was never in my plans, but it happened and I don’t want to lose you either. I don’t want to lose us. So yes, I see a future with you. Hopefully a nice, long one where we achieve everything we ever wanted. And more importantly, I see us achieving our dreams together."
A huge grin spreads across my face and I turn my head slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, my lips lingering against his skin. Then I lean forward, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck as I pull his face over the center console and brush my lips against his. He kisses me back tenderly as we solidify our feelings for each other with our lips on the side of a mostly deserted road in the middle of Tennessee. When the kiss ends, Landon gets back on the road and heads to Knoxville for our date.
***
After strolling around the center of town we decide on a quaint Italian restaurant playing soft instrumental tunes. The lighting is dim, the crowd sparse, and I'm able to truly enjoy my dinner with Landon in an intimate setting. It's the perfect place for him to take me on our first date.
"What was your favorite game to play as a kid?" he asks me after swallowing a bite of his mouthwatering lasagna. His question is easy, basic. These are his favorite types of questions to ask me because Landon likes to know as much about me as possible. It's one of the many things I love about him.
After swallowing a bite of my spaghetti I reply, "I played by myself a lot. I didn't have a lot of material things but I did have a deck of cards and I became a master at solitaire. It's still probably my favorite game."
"That's just sad. What about Monopoly or Life?" Landon asks me eagerly, hoping to stir up a memory I've maybe forgotten.
"Nope, I've never played those. Solitaire's the only game other than a few generic games at school."
He smiles kindly at me but I can see the sadness in his eyes from my answer. It bothers him to hear about the way I grew up when he grew up so differently. It doesn't bother me, though, so I try to distract him by asking him the same thing.
"I loved Battleship," he answers with a boyish grin. "I loved sinking my opponent's ships. For a short time I even wanted to be in the Navy when I grew up."
An image of Landon in a Navy uniform flashes before my eyes and heat spreads throughout my body. I know what I'll be asking him to dress as for Halloween.
We continue to go back and forth, question after question, and when our bellies are full and he's paid the bill we head over to the movie theater in town. The theater's old-fashioned and outdated, bringing a romantic charm to the place. I love it.
It's a Saturday night so the place is packed. Rowdy children run around as their parents purchase tickets to the new G-rated film that came out. Groups of high school kids stand in crowds as they wait for the rest of their friends, most likely going to see the new "it" movie. Lovers hold hands, kiss and canoodle while waiting in line to purchase tickets to any movie–it doesn't really matter because they won't be watching it anyway. I tuck my hand in the crevice of Landon's arm and rest my head along his upper arm just happy to be with him tonight.
"Being here with you seems surreal. I thought we'd have to wait until I graduate for you to take me on a date out in public."
"I was worried that might be the case, too. I'm glad my impatient side took over because we're here tonight and I plan on holding you throughout the movie."
As we inch closer to the ticket booth I look over the list of movie titles on display in bright red letters on the digital board–the only modern piece of technology in the main lobby. I haven't heard of any of the movies, which is kind of embarrassing. I really do work too much.
"What should we go see?" I ask, hoping Landon will choose so I don't have to reveal my lack of movie knowledge.
"Does it really matter?" He leans into me, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, "I don't plan on watching the movie."
I shiver, his words sending sparks of desire through my body and when he nips at my earlobe I clench my thighs together to suppress the ache between my legs. He leaves kisses on the skin right below my ear and I giggle as his scruff tickles the spot between my neck and shoulder.
"Down boy." I tease. "That'll have to wait until we're inside the dark theater."
He discreetly grabs my hand, lowering my palm to the front of his jeans so I can feel his erection through his denim pants. "I don’t know how long I can wait, sweet girl."
I love the needy way his body responds to me.
I grab his hard length, squeezing gently before I release him. "And just what do you expect will happen once we're inside?"
"I don’t expect anything but I hope you'll have pity on your poor teacher and relieve the situation you've caused in my pants."
"Well, Mr. Tucker, since you asked so nicely I can definitely take care of that for you." I squeeze him in my palm again, this time discreetly stroking him over his jeans before letting him go. I don't want to risk anyone in line seeing the way I inappropriately touch
ed him.
We continue to move forward in line and when we're finally called up to the ticket booth Landon buys two tickets to the new action movie starring the hottest new A-list actor. I'm not a girl who likes action movies, but since Landon promised we wouldn't be watching much of the movie I won’t put up a fight at his movie choice.
We make our way through the lobby and into the concession stand area. Landon rests his hand against my lower back, the heat from his palm seeping through the material of my yellow blouse as he orders a large popcorn and soda for us to share. It's not until we briefly part ways and Landon walks over to the self-service area to load our popcorn with butter and salt that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something seems...off. Wrong even.
When I look over at Landon he's still working on the popcorn, settling my nerves a little but not enough to lift the overwhelming feeling of worry that's just come over me. I take my time and look around the lobby of the theater to make sure everything’s okay. I've only ever had this feeling once in my life and my intuition was right when I sensed the trouble then, just like I'm sure my intuition is right now.
That's when my eyes land on her.
She has one of her frail hands on her designer clutch as she lifts her other thin hand and waves in my direction, smiling at me knowingly. My stomach drops and I feel sick. I don't want to know what is running through her conniving little head right now. Her seeing me is enough for every worst-case scenario to cross my mind. Jo Lynne's caught me with Mr. Tucker and now she has the upper hand.
We're so screwed.
Chapter Seventeen
I've just suffered through the longest thirty-six hours of my life.
After getting over the initial shock of getting caught out with Mr. Tucker by Jo Lynne, I was able to feign sick with Landon and ask him to take me home. There's no way I could have made it through a movie at that theater knowing Jo Lynne might be watching us. She's so sly she'd probably have had her camera phone out waiting to snap the perfect picture.
Landon, being the amazing guy that he is, didn't question my story of not feeling well and took me home. I know he must have been disappointed but he never showed it, even sneaking into my bedroom window an hour later to make sure I didn't need anything.
I really love that man.
Since Landon thought I was sick I was able to get out of our tutoring session Sunday morning. After my Sunday shift at the GG-mart I went home and laid in my bed, consuming myself with ideas of what I was going to do about Jo Lynne. On one hand, Jo Lynne is my friend. She cares about me in her own weird way. Maybe she won't say anything. Maybe she'll protect my secret.
But then on the other hand, Jo Lynne is jealous of anything someone has that she doesn't. She's said in the past that she's attracted to Mr. Tucker and now she knows I was out with him. She's also expressed how much she wants that prom queen title and it pisses her off that I'll most likely win it. Every jealous bone in her body easily trumps our friendship in Jo Lynne's eyes.
Yeah, she's totally going to tell the entire school she saw me out with Mr. Tucker.
The real question is what exactly did she see? If all she saw was Landon and me together near the concession stand before he went off to coat our popcorn with the ingredients for a heart attack, then she saw nothing. Our interaction was completely innocent. We could have just accidentally run into each other at a theater far from our home. No big deal. But if she was in the lobby for longer than that, then there's a good chance she saw our public display of affection in line and the obscene way I groped him.
Yep, we're screwed.
I got very little sleep last night playing it over and over again in my head. Now I'm walking into school, ready to face the music with my unkempt hair in a knot on top of my head when it's usually flowing down across my back. I'm not wearing make-up and I have huge dark circles under my eyes. I look like death and I feel even worse. I didn’t even bother dressing nice, instead opting for a pair of old gap sweats and a GG-mart t-shirt.
After today my life is going to be over anyway and I don't want to dress nice for my funeral. I was so happy two days ago, basking in an amazing relationship with endless possibilities, and now I'm going to lose him. I'm going to lose Landon. My heart is already breaking and it hasn't even happened yet.
I head to my locker. When I reach the small metal compartment that holds so much of my life I put in my combination and open the door so I can place my backpack inside and grab my books for first period.
"Whoa, you look like shit," Addison observes as she leans against the locker next to mine. Her auburn hair looks perfect–of course–as her bright and awake eyes trail over my less than perfect face.
"Yeah, well, I feel like shit." The words come out harsher than I wanted them to but I can't take them back now.
"You okay?" She looks over my outfit and then she gasps. "God, you're not pregnant, are you?"
Why is that always the first assumption when a teenage girl in our town feels and looks like shit? I may be from Tennessee, a state with a reputation of strong religious values and a high rate of teen pregnancy, but unlike our reputation I'm smart enough to use protection. "No, Addison. I'm not pregnant."
"Then what's wrong?"
"I just don’t feel so great."
"You should have ditched school, Savannah. I can drive you back to your house if you want to go home and sleep."
Whenever I think about how fake my friends are I'm grateful that Addison is in our small group. She's the only true caring friend I have. I'm lucky to have her in the mix of all the superficial bullshit. "I'm going to stay but thanks, Addison. You're a good friend."
"Anytime." We're interrupted by a feminine voice clearing her throat behind me. My shoulders rise as I inwardly cringe at the knowledge of who is waiting for me.
It's Jo Lynne.
Closing my eyes I take a deep breath, preparing myself to face whatever comes my way today. She may be out for blood but I'm not going to willingly give her any drops. When I turn around, Jo Lynne has a cheery, bright smile on her face. "How was your weekend, Savannah? Did you go anywhere fun?"
Oh God, this is it. She doesn't waste any time. This is where she tells everyone she saw me with Mr. Tucker. This is where she single-handedly ruins my life.
I stand up straight and hold my head high. "Not really, Jo Lynne. How about you?" I ask, keeping an unreadable expression on my tired face.
If she's going to take me out then she's going to do it while I stand with pride.
Shaking her head mischievously she grins and asks, "You look horrible. Want to ditch first period with me?"
Her question catches me off-guard and it's not until she raises her eyebrows in question that I realize there's really only one answer I can give. Leaving with her spreads a new wave of fear throughout my body because I don't know what Jo Lynne's end game is.
"Sure," I reply weakly and shut my locker door. Addison shoots me a questioning look, probably because she suggested I ditch just moments before and I turned her down. She doesn't dwell on it, though, as she turns around and heads to our first period class. I walk in the opposite direction, following Jo Lynne as we head out to the bleachers in the back of the school.
My freshman and sophomore year we all used to come back here and smoke pot between periods. The teachers never came back here so it was a safe spot for all of us stoners. I stopped smoking when I was struggling so hard to get my work done on time that I almost flunked out. I haven't been back here since.
Instead of sitting on top of the bleachers I follow Jo Lynne's satin smooth dark hair as we walk underneath them and sit down on the cool cement. I cross my legs, waiting to hear what she has to say to me, but Jo Lynne doesn't say anything. She’s probably waiting for me to speak. There's no way I'm talking first to this bitch. Just last week I considered her a friend and now I'm not saying shit because I still don't know how much she knows.
As the silence between us stretches on and on I get more and more anxious.
My palms begin to sweat, my skin gets clammy, and if she doesn't talk soon I might actually be physically sick. She must spot the ill look on my face because that's when she decides to put me out of my misery and discuss the issue at hand.
"You looked cozy with Mr. Tucker in line on Saturday. I had no idea he took such interest in his students."
Fuck, she saw us in line.
"What can I say, he's a hands-on teacher,” I reply with a bite to my tone.
"From what I saw you're a hands-on student. What a match the two of you are."
My stomach drops as she refers to my hand on Landon's cock. "What do you want, Jo Lynne?"
"What makes you think I want something?" she asks innocently.
"Because if you didn’t want something from me then the whole school would already know about Mr. Tucker and me. You haven't said anything yet so you must want something in order to stay quiet. Let's cut the crap small talk and tell me what you really brought me back here for. What do you want?"
"You're a no bullshit type of girl, Savannah. I've always liked that about you. You're right. I do want something. I've thought long and hard about what I could gain out of this and I've narrowed it down to two choices. I'll even let you decide which one to give me."
I can't possibly have anything she'd want. I'm poor, have no money, and most of my things came from her to begin with. With that said I'm sure she'll make this interesting. "Okay, so what are my options?"
"Mr. Tucker is so fucking hot. What's he like in bed?"
Is she serious right now? "This isn't a social call, Jo Lynne. We're not girlfriends talking about my sex life. Just tell me what the fuck you want."
She brings a bony finger to her hair and plays with a dark strand. "You know if the information I have gets in the wrong hands Mr. Tucker could lose his job. He could even be prosecuted."
This conversation is driving me crazy. I want to yank my hair out of the knot on the top of my head and scream at the top of my lungs, allowing the sound to echo across the football field. Instead I take a deep, calming breath. "Why would he be prosecuted? We did nothing wrong. I was eighteen when things started up with him."
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