A Step to Love

I was rather confused by the fact that Mr. Roberts led me to wait for almost an hour in detention just so he could tell me he would “make something up”. What kind of teacher says that, anyway? Aren’t teachers supposed to have a list, a “Punishment Book” or something about all of the punishments in the book? He could’ve just picked one, and said “Lilly, do this.”

Walking up to Brit was becoming part of my daily routine. She was again in the parking lot, looking all perky…and, was that a pink flower I saw standing between her curls? “Hey, I was just getting my things.”

She stepped out of the car her mother was driving and hugged me. I threw a smile and a wave towards Pat, which she returned and drove off.

I helped her carry two of the many books she had. “You know you’re supposed to put the books in the backpack, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I barely had time. Mr. Roberts made us do this assignment and I stayed up late.” She walked to my side, trying a little hard to keep up with me. “So I didn’t have any time to put my books in place,” she repeated.

Mr. Roberts… “Yeah.” I didn’t know how to respond, really.

“So what’s with the skirts?”

I followed her gaze, and noticed the fabric hanging high and separated. “Skirts?”

“Three days in a row, it surprises me.”

I thought quickly. “My pants got jelly all over them.” I sighed remembering Uncle Laurey’s arrival.

“Jelly?”

“My uncle came home yesterday. They finally found someone to take the house,” I explained.

“Well, that was quick,” she commented.

I nodded. “Thankfully.” I suddenly remembered what happened next in the story. “He brought home some foreign jelly an—”

“Foreign? Ha, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Me neither, but apparently it exists, and they sold some to him in a booth over there. Anyway, I was setting up my clothes during that time—since I started unpacking yesterday—and he came in, overly excited about the new jelly that he started pulling me to the kitchen and ta-dah! I have my first load of laundry to do, which includes all of my pants, and the shirts that I use for school.”

“That would explain why you’re wearing that top Sasha gave you for your birthday.” She pointed to it and I started looked uncomfortable.

Guilt washed me as I had forgotten about Sasha for a moment.

She apologized silently and we both kept quiet until we reached our lockers.

“It’s all right, you know?” I put Brit’s Chemistry and French book at the bottom of her locker and she immediately started organizing it correctly.

She smiled.

“What’s your first class?” I switched the subject rapidly, hoping it would make everything fine.

Though, we were still working on it.

She looked like she remembered something, and picked up her French book. She waved it at me making her hair shake with it. Then, Joe appeared out of nowhere and planted a sloppy kiss on Brit’s cheek, which she returned to his lips.

…Hm. Here’s where the awkward part comes. I’m not a fan of public make-out-sessions. And just standing there staring at the two exchanging saliva wasn’t the ideal moment for me. A small kiss is okay; holding hands feels weird, but it’s not uncomfortable.

This. This was uncomfortable.

“Okay,” I whispered in a sing-song voice and headed to my locker, which was (thankfully, for now) at the other side of the wall. I walked up to it and opened it, shoving my bag in it. I grabbed my English notebook and my cell phone to text Alex.

“Didn’t you learn from texting in my class?”

I jumped, catching a glimpse of him before returning to my phone and closing it after clicking the “send” button. His gaze looked seductive. “I-I’m not texting in your class.” His hazel eyes captivated me for a second before I remembered how to speak. I turned to the clock just in the middle of the hallway. “There are exactly ten minutes left until school starts.”

“Aren’t you a smart-ass?” He chuckled, and handed me a folded paper. I stared at him, probably looking like an idiot. I took it, feeling electricity hit my fingers when they brushed with Mr. Robert’s. Oh, no.

“Y-you told me yesterday t-that you still needed t—”

“That’s what the note is for,” he said.

I smiled awkwardly, and he nodded, walking up to the second floor.

After a short moment of silence, my stomach calmed down. I opened the paper and widened my eyes, adding a roll at the end.

LILLIAN PARKER:

Cleaning up the English Classroom at three o’clock.

For texting, really?

~*~*~*~*~

At lunch Brit didn’t seem like herself or at least, as perky as she did just a few hours ago.

My English class was based on trying to avoid Mr. Roberts. I thought this was also going to become part of my routine. I mean, the dude was beautiful…and…annoying. It gave me a warning sign. His attitude, his whole being was a huge warning sign that simply told me to stay away.

It was after school…again. The first thing I did: avoid Mr. Roberts…again and walked straight to work. I stopped myself. What a dump. There were wrappers and papers everywhere. The desks were all written in pencil and marker. I looked at Mr. Roberts and he was busy cleaning the board.

When I spoke up, he jumped. “What happened?”

His golden hair turned, he smiled and returned to the board. “Students,” was all that he said.

I raised an eyebrow and walked to a piece of paper pressed into a tight ball. “Well, I know they were students, but I thought you had a little more order or control than that.”

I heard him laugh and felt him turn. “Some are simply uncontrollable.”

“Hm.” I walked to the nearest trashcan and dragged it next to the mess. I stared picking up one by one feeling his gaze on my back. I turned softly and caught him looking at me. My cheeks flushed. Mr. Roberts was standing there like a god with his shirt slightly unbuttoned at the beginning. His usual tie was missing and he leaned calmly against his desk.

His gaze shifted from my tights to my face and he turned to his papers. “I was looking throughout your work. Mr. Walberg mentioned to me how your work had impressed him very much.”

“It’s not a big deal, Mr. Roberts. I just pay attention.” I turned once again to the trash and kept cleaning until the atmosphere became awkward, then I spoke up. “Why are you telling me this, anyway?”

“Curious.”

“About?” I threw another paper in the trashcan.

“I wanted to know whether you were really smart or you found your way up to success in this school.”

His words stopped and stepped up, putting the trashcan to my side once again. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“Nobody, I haven’t said anything inappropriate, have I?”

I blinked hard. Had I just talked back to a teacher?

I turned, and finished fixing the room silently. When I finished, I left quickly, feeling Mr. Robert’s gaze on my back the whole time.