I’m failing everything.
I had two months of school to complete, assignments to hand in, finals to sit, but now it all feels so meaningless. What’s the point in winning a scholarship when your future already feels so broken?
And what makes matters worse is that Josh Parker has taken to bailing me up whenever he gets the chance, asking me stupid questions like,what am I doing on the weekend? Anddo I have a date to prom?I refuse to dignify that guy with an answer. I won’t be falling into that trap again.
“I’ll wear you down, Maya,” he says in parting.
Not bloody likely.
With only a month to go, I’m called into the guidance counselor to discuss my sudden lack of performance. They even call my father which gets my stepmother on my back again. She’s forcing me to exercise twice a day to ‘wake my brain up’ while also putting me on a strict diet of green smoothies and grilled fish. I’ve never been more miserable in all my life.
I’m given extra credit options to maintain my average, but I can’t even bring myself to complete those to the best of my ability. Everything I thought I wanted seems pointless when I can’t have the one thing I truly want.
Brody.
He’s called. On the first day, he called me so much my battery died, and I haven’t charged my phone since. He called, and I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I gave him my heart, but circumstances meant he couldn’t keep it. There’s no sense prolonging the inevitable. All I can do now is force myself out of this funk. But it’s hard. Almost impossible. Especially when the scent of him fills my nose and aches inside my heart as he places my quiz face down in front of me and pauses, his fingers trapping the paper until I look up and meet his eyes.Don’t you dare cry, Maya.
“You need to see me after class,” he says before releasing the paper and moving on to the next student. I flip it and see a big red F, clenching my jaw before folding it in half.This has to stop.I need to sort my shit out.
“What’s going on with you?” Tamara asks in a whisper. She’s not really concerned as much as she’s accusatory. It’s like she’s as disappointed in me as my stepmother is. I should probably introduce them. They’d really get along.
“I’m just tired,” I say, tucking the paper inside my textbook and looking away.
“Is it…is itdrugs?” she hisses, causing me to roll my eyes.
“Yeah, Tamara. That’s what it is. I’m on drugs,” I deadpan, forgetting who I’m talking to because she takes me seriously and gasps so loud the entire class hears.
“Oh my god, I’m joking,” I say, shaking my head as I slide down in my seat and pick up my pencil to copy the revision topics Brody, I mean, Mr. Miller is putting on the board. Although I’m not able to do much beyond stare longingly at that tight ass of his. He looks so nerdy in his dress pants and button-up shirt and sweater vest. But I know that under all of that, there’s a body coiled tight with muscle and a giant dick that I ache for almost constantly. Most days, I convince myself that what I feel is just lust and I’ll get over it. But when he turns around, and we lock eyes, I know that couldn’t be further from the truth. What Brody and I experienced was a rare phenomenon known as love at first sight. And neither of us will be OK again.
When class finishes, I pack my things and try to leave despite Brody asking me to stay behind. I don’t feel capable of being in a confined space alone with him. I don’t feel capable of speaking to him without confessing my feelings. It’s why I never charged my phone. There’s just no point. Our timing is all kinds of wrong.
“Miss. Allen.”
I stop walking, my eyes closing as the rest of the class files out the door around me.Shit.When the last person moves to close the door, Brody’s voice stops them.
“Leave it open,” he instructs, adding an element of safety along with a buttload of tension to this impromptu teacher student meeting.
“I have to get to English class,” I say as I turn around to face him. He doesn’t seem unaffected fighting the pull that exists between us. He’s got at least a week’s worth of stubble on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes have aged him considerably. He’s still beautiful, but he’s a beautiful mess now. I just wish he could bemybeautiful mess.
“I’ll send you with a note,” he says, moving so he’s sitting on the desk that’s closest to me. “You’re failing, Maya.”
I look anywhere but at him. “I don’t care,” I whisper, shaking my head.
“Well, I do,” he says. “I care. Far more than I should. That scholarship requires consistent grades or they’ll give it to the next in line.”
“I don’t care,” I repeat, quieter this time.
“I’m not letting you throw your life away because…” He looks towards the door before lowering his voice. “You’re so smart, Maya. So talented and gifted. Let me help you. I’ll tutor you myself. In public, of course. God knows I can’t be trusted with you alone.” His words are practically a mumble as his gaze travels down my uniform to my toes, before returning to my face. “This is hard for me too, I assure you. Seeing you in my classroom each day is—” He stops himself, biting on his knuckle like he needs the pain to stop words from falling out before he looks away. “Just be at the library by four. You’re going to Cornell. No arguments.” He holds out a slip of paper, excusing me for being late to my next class and nods to the door. “Now go.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, reaching for the paper. He makes a point of running his index finger along my palm. The contact wakes up every nerve ending in my body, causing me to gasp and blush at the contact.I want him so much.
“We’re not over, Maya,” he whispers. “We’re just on pause.”
Maya
Istop by my locker on my way to English, Brody’s words bouncing around inside my head.We’re just on pause…God, how I wish that could be true. Sure, we could pick up where we left off when I graduate, and it won’t be illegal anymore, but if the school finds out about us, Brody will be raked over the coals by the ethics committee and probably lose his job. It’d ruin his career, which would be a travesty. While I may be failing right now, I’m not blind, and he’s an excellent teacher. He has a passion for mathematics that has only made me love him more. And it’s not that I’m not learning from him, because I am, it’s just that he’s taking up all the space in my brain. I can’t do much else but think about how much I love and miss him. I never thought I’d be the kind of girl to do that kind of thing, but I can’t help it.He’s supposed to be mine.Now I’m grieving what we were meant to be.
Spinning the combination lock, I pull the red door open and slide my math books in before taking my English books out. As I do, I piece of paper falls out and lands at my feet. Kneeling down, I pick it up, unfolding it and finding neat printed handwriting.
