A Student/Teacher Relationship

My POV:

My eyes snap open to my alarm clock blaring morning talk radio. Why do I even listen to this stuff? I don't want to hear babbling at 5:15 in the morning. Stumbling out of my bed towards my dresser, I look into my mirror. It's still kind of dark in here, but some morning light peeks through the blinds. My dark brown hair's a mess. So much for getting blonde highlights, they're already starting to fade. There goes my birthday money. Sweet Sixteen... I rub my eyes to try and get the sleep out, but all I manage to accomplish is smudging more of my eyeliner around my eyes and on my hand. I turned around and leaned against my dresser.

"Another day..." I sighed and sauntered to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I returned to a brighter atmosphere. Digging through my closet, I tossed today's clothes on my bed. Dark blue jeans and a black tee with a giant red skull on it. I love skulls so much. I even have a white skull shaped birth mark on my abdomen, no kidding. I quickly got dressed and brushed out my hair. Putting make up on is such a pain sometimes, but I'm never seen without it. I'm vain in that sense. Reapply the eyeliner, put on some red lipstick, I'm out the door. Instead, I flopped down on my bed and stared at the blank ceiling for several minutes.

"I don't want to go to school." I complained rubbing my eye. "shit" My hand brushed against my newly pierced nose ring. "Damn that hurt... " I got off my bed and slipped on my black chucks. I reached for my book bag and walked out of my room towards the stairs.

I reached the bottom to see my older sister, Rachel eating breakfast while my mom stared at the computer screen.

"You're late." My mom huffed not even turning around.

"Well good morning to you too." I rolled my eyes (on reflex) and headed towards the front door pulling out my iPod. This thing has comforted me so many times, it's one of the only things I truly value along with my notebook.

"I gotta get to work... Rache are you done?" My mom finally gets up and grabs her keys as Rachel washes off her dish. By this time, I'm already sitting in the car waiting for them. I switch on my iPod to fairly loud. I'm not all that worried about hearing loss, just less bitching I hear. The first song that comes on is by my favorite mystery band. I only have one album by them. I'll explain... I am a downloading addict. If I find something I like, no doubt it will be on my computer. I know the name of the songs like this one now is "At The Library." I've searched the internet a dozen times, but all I got was zilch. No album name, no band name, nothing. Judging by the recording it sounds old, but who cares? Music as great as this is timeless.

***

Rachel and I arrive at school an hour before it even starts, because my mom is the only one that can take us since we live out of school limits and there's no bus. So for an hour each day Rachel and I sit in front of "our" locker with little conversation except for the occasional fight. It's been a month since school started back up and things are already looking up for her. She's the senior (I, the junior) and Miss Popularity. The "pretty social butterfly" as my mom calls it. Need I say more?

The first period bell rings, English. English is so easy and boring. Sometimes I feel like I'm either going to go comatose or start hemraging from screaming the answer in my head. Thankfully I have my best guy friend, Nick to keep me sane. We always joke around back and forth the entire period since we sit next to each other. All my other friends say he's madly in love with me but I don't see it. He's like my brother and I don't believe in inbreeding.

After an hour of hearing about Shakespeare, Nick and I dart out of our class into the crowded hall.

"So I'll see you at lunch?" Nick said, gesturing his hand in the direction of the lunch room.

"Yeah I'll see ya there. Bye. " We parted our separate ways. Is that how people in love act? I think not. The rest of the day goes by so slowly. My one and only perk of the day is 5th period, World History. The wonderful 50 minute period before I have to go entertain at lunch. I'm not a huge history buff at all. It's fun to learn about, but I wouldn't choose it as a major. No, the real reason why I love history so much is that I get to see my favorite teacher, Mr. Armstrong.

Mr. Armstrong isn't like an every day high school teacher, balding, old, wrinkly, boring, wearing baggy moth eaten clothes. On the contrary, he is the exact opposite. He has an angel face that looks like it was literally touched by God. I would say he has a unique beauty, not that dime a dozen Abercrombie crap you see in magazines. Picture it: Almost everyday he wears a fitted black shirt with either a thin red tie or a dark vest with tight, black pants and black converse just like me. Messy, spiked black hair and the greenest eyes you could get lost in. Not only are his eyes amazing but he outlines them with thick black eyeliner. Sometimes I think he looks like a rock star wooing thousands of fans, but then I remember he's just my history teacher. But seriously though, I don't just come to class for his good looks, but for the kind of person he is. He is practically everyone's favorite teacher even though a lot of the kids at my school thinks he looks like a freak. Hilarious childhood stories, getting off topic into outrageous class discussions, just hanging out and barely learning.

Today was going to be good though because I was finally going to get my report back on imperialism so I can get my mom off my back about it. The whole report, an easy A. I know I got a good grade for sure. My confidence was deflated once he laid the paper on my desk. It's an A, it's an A... a C?! What the hell? I got a C? That can't be right.

For the rest of the period I was in my own little world analyzing what I did wrong while he was reviewing the chapter. Once the bell rang and 30 students cleared out of the classroom, I decided to confront my teacher.

"Mr. Armstrong?"

Looking up from a pile of papers, "Yes Rebecca?" Oh my god those eyes! I almost lost my purpose for disturbing him till I snapped back on track.

"Erm, I wanted to talk to you about my grade for my report."

"What's wrong with it?" He said as he came around his desk, looking over my shoulder. Chills ran up and down my spine. Damn my school girl crushes! But for some odd reason he seemed nervous about something. Call it paranoia, but I can hear trembling in his voice.

"Well I don't understand why I got a C. I don't want to be egotistical or anything, but I think I at least deserve a B." I turned around to face him. Is he sweating? It's not hot in here. He reached to take my report.

"Yeah I know this is an A paper." He looked down at it, the clock, at me, and back to my report. I'm so confused! This is too distracting, I'll just look down.

"Then why did you write a C?"

He cleared his throat. "I wrote the C, because I wanted to talk to you... In private." I can feel his eyes on me, but I am so scared to look up. No, I gotta suck it up, look at him.

He could tell I was confused before I even asked "why" so he quickly answered.

"Because I wanted to... " He slid my report on his desk.

"Because you wanted to what?" What's going on? This beating around the bush is starting to piss me off. I don't care how hot he is. After watching him take a couple more deep breaths and hard gulps, looking about the room. It looks like he tried to speak a few times, but I guess he lost his voice or something.

"What?!" I accidentally yelled throwing my arms in the air.

He once again cleared his throat. " I wanted to -" All of the sudden he came towards me, took my face in his hands, and gave me the longest, hardest, most passionate kiss I ever had. All of the anger and shock instantly melted away. I grew weak in the knees where I don't think I can stand much longer. I never experienced anything like this before. There's so much passion and satisfaction, but at the same time an insane fear it was all going to stop. If felt so short when our tongues were massaging one another, but then I realized I'm kissing my history teacher! This is crazy! I can't do this, but he is so handsome -

"No, I can't do this." I whispered, pulling away from his arms. "I have to go." Before he could say anything, I ran out the door to lunch.