Chapter 21

Mr Broster -my math teacher- seems to be late, to everyone's delight. So, as you can imagine we’re either sat messing about or talking about what they did at the weekend.

Tyler sits in the seat he always sits in, opposite me. He turns entirely on his chair so he is straddling it.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. I turn my attention to him, frowning a little with my arms folded across my chest and my legs crossed at my ankles. "Melanie told me in science," he states. I glare at him. "It's good, I guess," he says, scratching his head and looking down. "So -he looks up to me- do you forgive me?" he asks.

I sigh and nod. "But you were out of order," I say. He nods in agreement, but I can tell he disagrees.

"Does this mean we are back together?" he asks unsure.

"No," I say with a shake of my head. He frowns at me and is about to say something, "I need to be on my own at the moment," I state.

"Ok," he says in defeat, turning his body back to face the front so I'm facing the back of his head. I sigh because this means he is in a mood over it. I’m about to call his name when a book slams on the desk, getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I look straight at the front of the class to see who had made the loud bang and it is Mr Peters. He isn't in a good mood. His eyebrows nearly meet in the middle, and his jaw is clenched. His blue eyes are not the normal energetic blue I see in art or the bored sapphire blue I would see in English. It is an angry, frustrated dark blue. He obviously doesn't want to be here.

"Hand them out," he grunts to a girl at the front as he lays the math books on her desk. She nods sheepishly and starts to hand them out. There is absolute silence in the room, which is scary due to the aura he is giving off. A pissed-off aura.

"Your math teacher is off today," he states, "I pulled the short straw, and now I’m here. All the help you need is in those books," he pauses and lifts the register off the desk, "but if you majorly need the help and you have tried everything you can to understand the question, and you still can't then feel free to ask me, and I will try and help you," he says as he looks up and down the register. "Understood?" he asks as he looks up. Everyone nods and says yes, and he starts the register.

My name is the last name on the register, so when it gets to my name no one is paying attention to him as they were getting on with their work. "Megan Wright," he calls, and I see his eyes widen the tiniest bit as he says my name, and then he looks around the room.

"Here," I say, raising my hand a little. His eyes meet mine, and I suddenly feel like I'm about to die or something. I quickly clear my throat to look away from him, and it works until my eyes decide to ignore my brain and look at him again to see he is still looking at me. Then he frowns and looks away.

Obviously, he is angry. I kissed him, and he could lose his job because of me. I am so stupid. I wish I’d forgotten that kiss, but I can't. It replays in my mind over and over like a broken record. It was a fantastic kiss. I cannot actually believe I still remember it after how drunk I was. I even passed out on him straight after the kiss, and I still remember it.

After about half an hour, I hadn't done anything; I just stared into space. How can seeing the man reignite that kiss in my mind and make it play? God, even the kiss in the elevator runs through my mind. I do have to admit I enjoy replaying it because I enjoyed every bit of it. He wanted me, I could tell while I kissed him.

Mr Peters has been walking around the classroom, and he walked past me twice and I swear he walked past me as fast as he can. Is he that angry? He kissed me back; he could have pushed me away I wouldn't have minded. I would have understood. I would have understood completely.

My head drops on my arms on the table due to frustration. I'm so angry with myself. I now have a teacher who can't stand being near me, which is my fault. I have never had this. I get on with all my teachers, some more than others. Never in all my 17 years of breathing have I had a teacher who can't stand me. I groan quietly. It is official: this year is the worst year of my life; this just tops it off.

"Megan," I hear that lovely poetic English voice of his sing; well, say but to me, it sounds like singing because I'm a loon and have a major crush on him and because I kissed him. "Are you ok?" he asks. I lift my head from my arms and see he is standing beside me. I gulp down a lump in my throat and nod. "It's just you haven't done any of the questions" he states.

"Oh...I err." I can't think of anything. I'm great at math; I don't like it, but I'm good at it. That is why I'm at the top, so I can't say I need help.

"Do you want some help?" he asks, kneeling down to my level. I just gulp again and stare at him blankly.

God, why the hell can't I speak? Why the hell am I looking at him like some delusional, crazy person?

"You know, if you open the book, the question will be easier," he states with a small smile, taking the book from under my arms. I frown and move my hands off my desk and onto my lap. I peer over to the book, and the questions are relatively straightforward. "Do you have a pen?" he asks quietly. I nod and take one out of my bag. "Ok," he breathes and starts to read the question himself.

"The value of N is 4," I state, taking another pen out of my bag and writing down the answer in my book. He looks at me, a little surprised.

"I'm guessing you don't need my help," he states. I nod and lean back. I don't need his help at all. I need him to leave me right now as I feel a little flush.

"Urm, can I go to the toilet?" I whisper. He nods and stands up just as I stand up. Man, he is tall; I thought I was tall, but tall doesn't describe his height. I look up at him, and then those images came flooding back. I could feel myself blushing, and I quickly picked up my bag and walked off, snaking my way between each desk. I don't need to look back to know if he is looking at me. I can feel his gaze practically jabbing me in the back.

As soon as I leave the classroom, I drop against the wall and let out a long, frustrated sigh. What is going on? I was fine up until this lesson started. He makes me so nervous, and somehow, it is a little scary how anyone could make anyone feel like that just from being in their presence.

I drop my bag on the floor and sigh deeply again. Why is this happening? I touch my fingers to my lips and breathe in. That kiss wasn't just a kiss; it was the best kiss I've ever had. I bite my bottom lip and turn on my heels. I'm about to walk into class when the door opens. I quickly step back when I notice it is Mr Peters.