by S. E. Law
I will admit that my rebellious nature is probably due to craving the extra attention that I missed out on from not having a mother, but other than that, I’m fairly well-adjusted, in my opinion.
I jog upstairs to my bedroom and throw my backpack down on the floor. Peeling out of my school uniform, I let out sigh of relief. I’m always eager to get out of that confining button-down blouse that I have to keep tucked into my stupidly short skirt.
Of course, the plaid skirt we have to wear isn’t as short for everyone else as it is for me. My big ass seems to make it feel shorter as it easily hitches up in the back.
I toss my bra off, also eager to get out of that restraining garment, as I look at myself in the mirror and turn to the side. Staring at the way my back dips in before it rounds out to my ass, I shake my head. Shit, sometimes I really do look like a cartoon character I would draw with how animated my features are.
I’m proud of my body, but being the only girl with double D breasts around a school filled with teenage boys sometimes makes me self-conscious. Between me not giving a damn about my grades and my curvy body, I don’t get taken seriously very often. All eyes are on my tits and ass, but rarely my face—teachers included. Hell, even women included!
The mean girls in school make fun of my weight or call me a slut for having big boobs. Little do they know I’m a virgin! I barely notice when I’m being stared at anymore since it’s so common. I’ve learned to ignore the comments, dirty looks, and horny stares from my peers.
Soon, I’ll be graduating high school, and I won’t have to see these idiots anymore, unless they all decide to stay in Tarrytown. If that winds up being the case, maybe going away to college wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
I slip into my favorite red bikini and look myself over one more time before tossing on a cover-up and fishing my flip-flops out of the closet.
“Renee, are you home?”
I kick my discarded clothes into the corner of my bedroom before bounding down the stairs to greet my father.
“You’re home early,” I say, kissing his cheek.
He thumbs through the mail in his hands as he talks.
“The house I was supposed to show wasn’t ready.”
“Bummer.”
“Eh, I’m ready for the weekend anyway. The sale will be waiting for me next week,” Daddy says confidently.
He owns his own real estate company, which not only covers Tarrytown but all of Westchester and its surrounding areas. Being the fantastic salesman and people person Daddy is, he does really well for himself—and for me. It’s safe to say that I’m more than a little spoiled.
To make up for not having a mother, Daddy gives me whatever I want and lets me get away with murder.
We’ve always been super close, and he’s never been incredibly strict with me, although he scolds me to improve my grades pretty regularly. Overall, he’s an awesome, cool father. Even though he’s in his forties, he looks ten years younger. When we’re out together, people sometimes think I’m his sister since I have his brown eyes and similar facial features.
“We’ll stop and grab a bottle of wine and dessert before heading to Kane’s,” Daddy suggests.
He heads upstairs to change while I fiddle with my phone. Billy has texted me: Sorry you’re stuck hanging out with your dad and his friend. You sure you can’t get out of it?
I know I don’t have to spend tonight with my father and Kane. Daddy would understand, and I’m sure Kane would rather have guy talk with him than entertain a teenage girl. But Kane never makes me feel unwelcome or out of place.
When I was a kid, Kane and Daddy had poker nights with the guys. I would sit on Kane’s lap while he taught me how to play. To this day, I would rather spend my weekends with Kane than with any boy.
Maybe I’m too old to have a crush on my father’s friend, but I can’t help it. Kane Forrester makes women of all ages salivate, and the thought of being anywhere else when I could be seeing him makes me sad.
I text Billy back, trying to hide my enthusiasm about tonight. Something must be wrong with me… I should want to spend Friday night with my boyfriend, but Billy isn’t exactly the love of my life.
No, sorry. My dad wants me to go. See you tomorrow.
“Ready?”
Daddy bounds down the stairs looking much more casual than he did when he ran up them, wearing a t-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops. We head out of the door and into Daddy’s Jeep.
To be continued …
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Sneak Peek: Sweet as Candy
Mari
Mari gets a bad grade on her paper, but she’s not giving up. She’s confronting her handsome professor in a last-gasp bid for an A.
My friend Jessica dressed me this morning.
I tug on the hem of my shirt to cover my stomach, but that leaves my breasts a lot more exposed than I’m used to. I’d pull up the skirt, but it already barely covers my butt as it is. My socks are pulled up to my knees. Jessica wanted to put me in heels, too, but I drew the line at that.
I’m already so far out of my comfort zone that I want to cry. This outfit is nothing like the jeans and t-shirt I usually wear.
Turning on my heel, I walk away from the English building. I can’t do this! It’s too embarrassing.
But then I stop myself and turn around again. Jessica thinks this will help with my future grades; after all, it can’t hurt to get in good with my professor. Even if it doesn’t get me an A on the next paper, it could develop into a relationship that leads to a recommendation letter for me.
I pause outside of the English building. The possibility of a good recommendation is enough to make me want to walk in, but it’s still hard to bring myself to enter the building. I feel ridiculous in this outfit! I look like Britney Spears in the “…Baby One More Time” video, except not as hot. I’m like a little girl playing dress up.
Thank goodness there aren’t many people around this morning. It’s Thursday, three days after I got a B on my English paper, but it’s only a little after eight. Most students are smart and don’t have classes this early. It’s annoying that Professor Boynton’s office hours are so freaking early. I don’t have class until ten on Thursdays, but I couldn’t sleep in because Professor Boynton only holds office hours from eight until nine on Thursdays. If I want to meet with him, it has to be now. And I didn’t want to risk coming later and finding a line of students at the door. I’m embarrassed enough without an audience watching me.
I hesitantly open the door to the English building. I only have one English class this semester because I’m getting my general education requirements out of the way, but I’ll be spending most of my junior and senior years in this building. It’s best I get used to it now.
I know Professor Boynton’s office is on the second floor, so I find the nearest stairs and climb them. The hallway is deserted, but a few classrooms have noise coming from inside them. I feel bad for anyone with eight a.m. classes. That will never be me – if I can avoid it.
Of course, the door I enter is on the opposite side of the building from where I need to be. I make it to the end of the hall and turn right. The numbers are getting larger, which is what I need them to do. Then they stop. Ugh! Am I ever going to make it to his office?
Maybe the universe is telling me not to go. I should turn around and run while I still can.
As I’m contemplating my escape, I spot a smaller hallway that bisects the building. That must be where the faculty offices are.
I stop again at the mouth of the hallway. My heart is beating erratically. This is ridiculous. Why am I here, dressed like this?
I want to kill Jessica. I feel like she picked out this short skirt and revealing top as a joke. She probably expected me to run into a bunch of people and then never want to show my face on campus again.
Luckily for me, I’ve only seen two people total on my trip from my dorm to the English building.
Jessica is going to be so disappointed.
My phone pings with a text. Go to office hours, Mari!
I look around. There’s no way Jessica could know I haven’t gone into his office yet. She’s not here. It must just be a lucky guess on her part.
I don’t want to, I respond.
Do it anyway. You look hot. This is a good plan. Go!
I tuck my phone into my bag, right next to the paper I’m supposed to be discussing with my professor. Ugh. I want to turn tail and run, but I can’t. Jessica’s motives may be off, but she’s smarter than she looks. If she thinks going to office hours will help, I trust her.
Gripping my purse tightly against my side, I take a few steps and reach Professor Boynton’s office.
There. That wasn’t so hard.
The office has a plain, wooden door with a frosted glass pane in the center. Professor John Boynton is written on a plaque next to the door. At least I know I’m in the right place.
I lift my hand to knock when a sound inside gives me pause. It almost sounds like…moaning? Surely that can’t be what I’m hearing. Why would there be moaning coming from my professor’s office?
Low grunts escape through the thick wooden door. I can make out figures through the glass but no details because of the frost.
I take a few steps back from the door. I’m in the right place, but is this a bad time? Should I leave and come back later? I don’t want to interrupt whatever is happening in there…
I pull my phone from my purse and double-check Professor Boynton’s office hours. It’s right on his University webpage. Monday five to six p.m.; Thursday eight to nine a.m. Please make an appointment outside of these hours.
I check the time again. It’s only a quarter past eight. I’m within the time frame, so I have every right to be at Professor Boynton’s office right now. I could leave, but if I do, I’ll never come back. If I’m going to do this, it has to be right now.
Stepping forward again, I tentatively lift my knuckles and tap against the cool glass.
The sounds behind the door stop immediately. I hear a rustling sound, and then the door opens.
“Ms. Maple!” Professor Boynton exclaims, surprising me. I had no idea he knew my name because our class is pretty big. This is why I could never be a professor. I have a hard enough time remembering the names of my family members, let alone those of the hundred or so students who attend a lecture.
“Hi, Professor. Sorry if I’m interrupting something…”
Professor Boynton looks flushed, but that doesn’t take away from how damn hot the man looks.
I noticed his looks the first time I walked into the lecture hall. It was my second class of the day, and I was feeling overwhelmed. Luckily, I knew I had Jessica in my English class. Her calming presence was all that had kept me from bursting into tears.
She and I sat next to each other near the middle of the small lecture hall. Students filed in around us, but there was no sign of our professor. The time for class to start came and went. Still, no professor.
After five minutes, I was starting to worry we were in the wrong place. I don’t know what the probability of a hundred students ending up in the wrong classroom is, but it didn’t seem likely. Still, my anxiety had started to take over. Jessica did her best to stop my freak out.
Luckily, seven minutes after class was supposed to start, in walked our professor. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen. Then, just like now, I had to force my jaw closed. I’m pretty sure I started drooling.
I swipe at my face to make sure the drooling isn’t happening now. On the first day, Professor Boynton was dressed professionally in a button-up with a tie. He wore black slacks that were tight enough to make my mouth water. He tucks to the left.
Today, he’s dressed more casually. He’s still wearing a button-up shirt, but there’s no tie, and the top couple of buttons are undone. His shirt is a bit wrinkled, like he put it on in a rush. For pants, he’s wearing jeans instead of formal slacks. They, too, are wrinkled.
Professor Boynton’s dark black hair is a mess, too. It looks like he ran his fingers through it a few times before I got here. I loved how it looked on that first day of class, perfectly coifed and professional. However, today’s messy locks send a shiver down my spine too. I want to be the one to run my fingers through that hair…
Immediately, I force that thought from my mind. I should not be thinking sexual thoughts about my professor! It doesn’t matter how attractive he is; my mind should be on the paper in my purse, not his appearance. Though it is peculiar that he’s so un-put together. I wonder what caused it…
I’m not going to call him out on his disheveled look, though. It’s not my place to comment on my professor’s appearance.
On the flip side, he at least seems to appreciate my look for today. Professor Boynton’s piercing blue eyes rake up and down my body. At least I’m not the only one staring! It makes me feel better knowing he’s looking at me the way I was looking at him.
“You’re not interrupting anything,” he finally replies. How much time has passed? It feels like I’ve been standing in front of this door for at least six hours. In reality, only a couple of minutes have passed.
“Oh. Good,” I manage. I didn’t realize how intimidating it would be to stand before Professor Boynton with no one else around. I want to push him through the door and…
Before that bad thought can come to fruition, the door pushes itself open more.
No, not itself. A head peeks out from behind the door.
“Well, hello there, Ms. Maple! It’s good to see you.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. It was hard enough to speak coherently while standing in front of one hot guy. Now, there’s a second one in the mix!
My English class has a TA. He didn’t start until the second week of classes, which was honestly for the best. If he had walked in that first day, I might have had a heart attack.
Mark Kingham, the TA, could be a male model. It’s crazy to me that both our professor and our teaching assistant are hot enough for the runway. What are they feeding people in this part of New York? We certainly don’t have these kinds of guys in Queens, that’s for sure.
Seeing Mark and Professor Boynton next to each other reminds me why some girls in class have a group text about them. No one can believe that we got so lucky with not just one, but two attractive men teaching the class. Having them as teachers makes it hard to pay attention to the lecture, that’s for sure.
Maybe that’s why I did so poorly on the paper. I’ll admit, I spend more time staring at the two hot men than paying attention to what they’re saying. I should work on that.
But that’s easier said than done. In fact, I’m not doing a good job at it right now.
How long have I been standing here? Crap, I did it again. They’re both going to think I’m insane!
“Hi, Mr. Kingham,” I greet him belatedly.
“It’s nice to see you. What brings you by?”
“I wanted to talk about my Scarlet Letter paper.”
Professor Boynton nods. “I thought I might see you. Why don’t you come in, and all three of us can discuss it?”
All three of us? Is that how office hours normally work? I thought it would just be the professor and me.
Then again, the way my thoughts have been wandering and the way his eyes are fixed on my low-cut shirt, it’s probably for the best that we have a chaperone.
As the professor and Mark step aside, I take in Mark’s appearance in more detail. At first, I was so distracted by his dark eyes and shiny hair that I didn’t notice his clothes are as rumpled as Professor Boynton’s.
What the hell is going on?
“You haven’t come to office hours before, Ms. Maple,” Professor Boynton points out. “Why not?”
“Honestly, I haven’t gotten a B before.”
Professor Boynton laughs. “That’s a good enough reason, I suppose. I suspected you might come after I handed back the w
ork this week.”
“Why?”
“Because, like you said, you’ve never gotten a B before.”
I pull the paper from my bag. I’ve read it over a hundred times since I got it back, and I still have no idea why I earned such a terrible grade. It’s been driving Jessica mad. I’m sure that’s part of why she wanted to make sure I came to office hours today. If nothing else, it’ll give me the closure I need to move on.
“I thought it was a good paper…”
Professor Boynton nods. “It is a good paper, Ms. Maple.”
“Call me Mari, please,” I interrupt. “I hate my last name.”
“But it’s so delicious!” Professor Boynton responds. There’s a heat behind his eyes that causes my cheeks to flush. Is he talking about my last name or about something else?
Obviously, just my last name. He wouldn’t make a dirty comment to a student, especially not with his TA present. Would he?
“It’s a weird last name,” I try to explain. “I don’t know.”
“You’re talking to a guy with the last name Boynton. I get it. Mari it is. You can call me John.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“Please. Office hours are informal. John is just fine.”
“And like I’ve said a hundred times in class, please just call me Mark. I hate being called Mr. Kingham. It makes me feel a lot older than I am.”
“You’re not old at all!”
Mark chuckles. “I’ve got a few years on you.”
That may be true, but he doesn’t look it. Mark could easily pass for a fellow student. He claims to be thirty, but no one believes that for a minute. I’d say maybe twenty-five. I guarantee he gets carded whenever he enters a bar or tries to buy alcohol.
Must be nice to age so well. I take after my mother. My curly brown hair is forgettable, just like my brown eyes. At least I have curves. My boobs and my butt are my best features. I’m glad the outfit Jessica picked out for me accentuates those two parts of my body and hides the extra fat on my stomach.