Beautiful Torment (5 page)

The one good thing about gym, (and I can’t even believe there IS a good thing), is that no one can tell when you’re late. Since we first have to change our clothes, the locker room is never actually locked, so as long as you’re ready and in the gym in a timely manner, it doesn’t matter if you’re a minute or two behind.

These past few days, after math, I’ve been taking the long, totally opposite, out of the way, way to the gym, just so I can pass by Mr. Harrington’s classroom. It isn’t far from the gym; it’s just not in the direction I need to go. It’s such a stupid thing I started to do, but ever since the fire drill, I realized I could see him earlier in the day. I don’t have to wait until the afternoon.

He hasn’t noticed me, thankfully, but I like to glance as I walk down his hallway, watching him sit at his desk between his first period lab and second period chemistry class, just knowing that he’s here, and that I’ll see him later. It’s oddly soothing, not to mention definitely borderline psychotic.

Today he’s outside his door talking to another student between first and second period. It’s some girl I don’t know, and it’s
so obvious
that she has a crush on him. I wonder if I look as ridiculous as she does when we talk.

Now I feel stupid.

I watch their conversation for a minute, cringing inside.

I have to change.

I
really
shouldn’t be going this way to the gym. It shouldn’t matter if he’s here or not. I shouldn’t feel my entire day brighten when I see him.

This is insane!

This is
wrong
.

I’m about to turn around and backtrack when he suddenly looks up, spotting me. His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes meet mine and we’re stuck in this reverie, my deep browns against his ocean blues. It’s easily the most personal moment we’ve shared.

The girl becomes aware he’s no longer paying attention to what she’s saying and her hand touches his elbow. I wonder if I could ever muster up the courage to do something so bold. To feel how hard he feels through his shirt. Hell, I just wonder if I can stop gawking at him all the time, or not live for the moments when we have too brief a conversation.

I need to try harder to focus on something else.

Something normal.

The bell rings just as I’m passing his classroom, the hallway now emptying rapidly. I
feel him
still watching me, the heat of his glare on my back. I glance slowly over my right shoulder to see if I’m right, if my body truly is that in tune to his.

It is.

He’s halfway in his classroom as our eyes meet again, but this time, I see something in him alter, like a mask melting off in front of me, for his face instantly transforms into the slightest of grins.

I practically skip to the gym.

LAB ASSISTANT

I stayed late after math class today and didn’t have time to take the long way to pass by Mr. Harrington’s classroom. However, in English, the pathetic person I am asks Ms. Harrington if her brother is here today. I don’t know why I admit to the things I do, because it only proves what a sad, pitiful person I am, but I just had to know, to make sure. To feed this stupid sick pattern I’ve gotten myself into.

“He is,” she smiles. “Do you need to see him?”

It’s like an opportunity in disguise. I’m easily the best in her class, and here she is outright giving me a chance to go see him. Right here, right now. I know he’s in class, and despite simply wanting to pass by, I can’t possibly stoop
that low
. Besides, his door is usually closed while he’s teaching. Shit, but if I could just think of an excuse to knock so I can see his face. What I’d give for an extra opportunity to look him in the eye.

Nevertheless, I shake my head no and go back to my seat.

By lunchtime, I’m practically bouncing off my chair because today’s a lab day, which means double time with my favorite teacher.

“Why are you so peppy?” Chloe asks. “We have lab
and
chemistry. This suck.” She places her head on the table, and it’s hard to hear her with all the lunchroom noise.

“I know!” I beam.

“God you are so weird,” she shakes her head. “At least I get to gawk at Kyle. Do you ever notice how he looks my way?”

“Yeah,” I agree, even though I’ve never paid attention to it. I’m a terrible friend, but we each have our own gawking to do.

When we get to lab, I’m sure the excitement can be seen on my face. Maybe that’s why Mr. Harrington calls on me to assist him with his demonstration. Or maybe it’s because I am the only one who is point blank looking his way when he asks for a volunteer. I’m too much in my own world to register what he is actually asking for, but I’m sure everyone else was looking every which way but his.

“I don’t think you want me over there with you,” I shake my head. I’m definitely not one to go up in front of the class. I’m far too nervous, my hands will probably shake, and I’ll mess it up and look stupid.

“Please, Luci,” his smooth voice pleads.

I’m butter.

I put my notebook down and walk over to the lab table while everyone crowds around us. He puts on safety glasses, looking sexy as hell.

“Put these on,” he hands me a pair of goggles and I give him a look. These are not the sleek looking glasses his are, but flat out dorky
goggles
. No one looks good in these things! They should be banned from existence. It’s the first time we’re using them, and I’m going be the first in the class to look like a total loser. He shoves them my way again. I take a deep breath as I pull the strap over my head.

“Ouch,” Kyle snickers, and the rest of the class lets out a small laugh, but I’m too busy watching Mr. Harrington gape at me to care. Can you guys all stop laughing and let me bask in my moment? His mouth opens a little, and when he doesn’t say anything I break the silence.

“So what’s next,” I whisper. We’re standing close, closer than we’ve ever been. I can smell his familiar spicy cologne mixed with his minty breath.

I’m unbelievable turned on right now, and I have to open my mouth just to let out the extra air. For some reason I can’t remember how to breath normally.

He finally gives me instructions - pour this, pour that, and I move around him with an unnatural grace that I had no idea I was capable of. He asks the class questions about the reactions of things, but all I can think about is the reaction
I’m
having to
him
, forget about the chemicals!

He helps me pour the last liquid and I can’t help my blush when our hands meet. I wonder if he feels the buzz between us too. My body tenses from his touch as energy runs to my core. It’s the most carnal reaction I’ve ever experienced (don’t judge, I have little to work with).

My finger accidentally gives his an extra brush, all on its own, and I let out a small sigh, which I’m immediately embarrassed by.

“I think we’re done,” his voice is angry and stern.

God, I’m so stupid.

Chloe and I are lab partners, and I’d like to say it’s by chance, but he paired up the strangest of pairs, yet I got my friend. In fact, some people in the class point out how unfair it is, but Mr. Harrington just shrugs and says it was an accident.

We finish our experiment first, thanks to me already doing it, and start talking quietly. We don’t get yelled at, unlike everyone else when their low chattering gets too loud.

It’s these little things I always notice that make me think he regards me as special. Like, maybe this isn’t just my imagination after all.

However, there are still times I think it is. It’s just so confusing - whether or not it’s simply my wishful thinking, or just the most wonderful sign ever?

Regardless, it’s funny how I watch the clock in every single class but chemistry. Whenever the bell rings it catches me by surprise, because I never want to leave.

“I think Mr. H liked you in the goggles,” Chloe laughs jokingly as we head upstairs.

“Ew,” I roll my eyes before looking away and smiling.

I started staying after school for math to get extra help.

I leave today’s session early and head to my locker to wait for Chloe, who’s also staying after, but for Spanish.

“Luci,” a male voice booms. I know it’s not Mr. Harrington, as I’d recognize his sound anywhere, but I still hold a sliver of hope before turning around, remembering when called my name in class today.

I can’t help my disappointment when I spot Nick.

“Hey Nick,” I wave as he jogs over. “What are you staying after for?”

“Detention,” he shrugs and I laugh. I should have known. “You?”

“Math,” I enter the combo and pry the door open.

“You’re too smart for that,” he rests his hand on the locker next to mine.

“How do you think I stay so smart?” I counter jokingly.

“Right,” he laughs, and we booth look up upon hearing the scuff of shoes against the floor, watching as a swarm of guys in matching outfits run quickly down the hall.

“Keep it up, guys!” It’s like music to my ears. The smell of sweat rushes past me as one pair of sneakers starts to slow. His pants swoosh with each motion, his hard chest and arms barely confined in his tight MTHS t-shirt. My mouth drops as I watch him approach, completely forgetting about Nick being here.

“Everything okay here?”
He
pauses next to me and my gaze is stuck on him, studying, as he runs his fingers through his messy dark hair. I’m enchanted, the way he eludes such power and confidence. “Luci?” He chuckles when I don’t answer.

“Um, yeah…fine,” I swallow hard.

“You sure?” He confirms, staring back and forth between Nick and I. I nod slowly, bewitched.

“Okay,” his voice is just above a whisper as he turns around, my eyes still glued to him as he walks away.

“Fucking teachers,” Nick laughs nervously, interrupting my daze. I barely register my own laugh as I watch as Mr. Harrington stops at the far end of the hall before turning back around to face me. “Hey, so, about that movie…”

Nick’s voice isn’t right. It’s not
his
.

“What?” I smile, either to Nick or Mr. Harrington, I don’t know.

“Um, well, you said
some other time
, so I was thinking maybe this could be
some other time
.” I briefly turn my full attention back to Nick. He’s staring at the floor, brushing his feet against the dust. I don’t keep on him for long, as my eyes find
his
again. He’s laughing quietly, his shoulders moving slowly, his eyes bright and amused.

“Luci?” My eyes dart back to Nick.

“Yeah?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, I’m just really… distracted,” I look back at
him
again, hovering in the distance, lingering.

He winks
.

“I better get going,” I say to Nick absentmindedly. “See you tomorrow.” I slam the locker door, but when I look up again, my teacher’s gone.

“Luci!” Nick calls after me and I turn around, walking backwards as I shout back to him.

“I’m sorry. Some other time,” I hurry off down the hall in the direction
he
was standing, but run into Chloe instead.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She’s anxious to get home, to get out of school, but I want to stay. To find him and ask what that was all about.

“Never mind,” I shake my head, sighing loudly. She grabs my arm as we head to the exit.

AFTER SCHOOL

The next morning I get up unusually early. While I put on my typical pair of jeans, my shirt is a little tighter than I would normally wear. I’m a little embarrassed by it, but I don’t change and grab a sweater instead.

I don’t know what Mr. Harrington’s interest in Nick was all about yesterday, but I’m pretending it means something. All night, whenever I closed my eyes, all I saw was his wink. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever witnessed, and what provokes me to wear my tight shirt today. I even pack a hairbrush in my book bag so I can keep my hair down after gym.

I let my mind wander all morning, as I get ready, and then as I drive to pick up Chloe.

What if he really does like me too?

All the staring and glaring, the small moments, the semi-flirty conversations… It’s possible, isn’t it?

I realize we could never
actually
do anything, so I don’t know what I hope to accomplish in trying to all of a sudden look better today, or why I want to impress him, but I do.

I’m not delusional.

I know my silly little crush will lead me nowhere.

It’s not like I can ask him to sit in the lunchroom with me, or
date me
. We’ll never kiss by my locker, go to prom, or fall madly in love.

I’m aware how unreal this is.

How this is all just me hoping for a miracle, because he probably doesn’t feel anything towards me, other than I’m his student.

But that’s okay.

The idea alone makes me feel alive. I want to soak in each day and bask in its glory. My crush is
different
than anything I’ve felt before, wrong and yet
so amazingly right
.

“Who’s Mr. Harrington?” Gracie asks as we wait outside Chloe’s house.

“Huh?” I play coy.

“You practically moaned his name in your sleep last night,” she laughs.

“I did not!” I’m sure I’m turning red.

“You
so did
!” She shouts. “I was on my way to the bathroom at like 1am and I heard it, loud and clear.”

“Shut up,” I say, just as Chloe opens the passenger’s side door.

“You’re so early, Luci,” Chloe groans, fumbling with her seatbelt.

I back out of her driveway as she pulls the visor down and starts putting on her makeup. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I never wear makeup, ever. Little do they know, I have blush and mascara in my backpack for later.

So stupid!

“She woke me up early too, Chloe,” Gracie sighs, betraying me.

“Well, I have to finish this math thing before class and I need to ask Mrs. Stalling something,” I lie.

“Why didn’t you ask her yesterday when you stayed after school and made me take the bus?” Gracie pouts.

I ignore her as I pull into my parking space at school.

“Hey, I just noticed - your hair’s down,” Chloe shrieks. “It looks awesome!”

“Thanks,” I mumble, shutting the car off. “Guess I better get to math before everyone else does.”

I stop at my locker briefly before taking the long way to the basement, allowing me to walk down the hallway in which Mr. Harrington’s classroom sits at the very end.

I just want to see how early he gets here.

My heart races as I turn the corner, already anticipating seeing him, of getting to catch an additional glimpse this early in the day. I drop my book bag on the floor, letting the loud echo bounce off the empty halls of MTHS. His door is closed and the lights are out. I’m too early. I start arguing with myself over how pathetic this is and I don’t hear the footsteps.

“Luci?” I jump when he says my name, his smooth, deep voice extra raspy in the early morning. I close my eyes, imagining how his tongue sits between his teeth as he makes the “L” sound. “Are you okay?”

I brace myself before turning around.

He’s in a peacoat, his hair so freshly gelled that it looks almost black. He’s flushed and his eyes are watery, probably from the outside cold. He bends down, slinging his own bag higher over his shoulder as he picks up mine.

“Yeah?” I let out a breathy sigh and he smiles. “Thanks,” I smile back as he hands me my bag. Our fingers touch and we both pull back from the shock - literally.

“Sorry!” he laughs. “Gotta love the imbalance of electrical charges,” he sheepishly holds up a wool winter hat in his other hand.

“Huh?” I’m confused, but more than anything, I’m thankful for this moment - for any moment with him.

“Never mind, terrible science joke,” his eyes pierce into mine. They’re like diamonds - cold and clear, brooding, but something in them is kind and gentle, with a hint of wickedness - such an enigma. I’m ready for yet another one of our encounters to take over my dreams tonight.

“You, uh, look nice,” his hand reaches behind his neck. “Your hair.”

I blush, only to later find out, when I get to the bathroom, that it’s erratic. I must have looked like Elvira, or even Medusa. He was most likely
making fun
of my static hair.

“You’re here early,” he takes a key out of his pocket and fumbles with the lock on a door I’ve never noticed before.

“Is this some secret lab?” I joke, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

“Unfortunately, it’s not nearly as cool,” he clicks the door open and turns on the light, moving aside so I can see in. “Just my office.”

“Right,” I smile.

He throws his briefcase messenger bag inside before facing me again. I wonder if he’ll invite me in to this little private space of his, and my heart expands, full of hope and the chance at another conversation. His brow creases, like he’s deciding something, and when he sighs heavily, my mood sinks.

It’s not going to happen.

“Have a good day, Luci,” he breathes.

“See you later,” I mumble, discouraged.

I don’t hear the door shut, and I’m too nervous to look back, so I focus on his classroom at the other end of the hall as I make my way down it. Just as I’m about to turn the corner, I hear him call my name.

He’s lightly jogging towards me and I blink, because
he can’t be real
.

People are starting to fill the halls, and when I meet his gaze something passes between us, a silent note, and for a split second I recognize the exact look.

It’s the same intoxicating thrill that I regard him with.

“Um,” he exhales loudly, going through yet another deliberation with himself. “Make sure you know the properties of hydrogen for today’s daily quiz.”

My reply is a mix between a breathy laugh and an okay. I
really
don’t think that’s what he was going to say, and the thought of that alone makes my entire body buzz.

There are these two girls in my gym class who constantly talk about this one boy band in a hauntingly obsessive way. I recognize one of the girls; I think her name is Jess. She’s known for her crazy wild parties.

Today, I’m walking behind them as we circle the gym. They’re going on about how they plan on skipping school in a few weeks to see the lead singer in some Broadway show. They make it sound like he’ll
actually
fall in love with them.

Normally, I’d laugh at their nonsense, but for the first time ever, I understand it.

The need.

The desire.

I’m jealous they have each other to talk about their obsession with, since I can’t talk to anyone about mine.

English with Ms. Harrington is once again a complete breeze. She never calls on me, and I’m sure that’s because she knows I know the answer. I don’t think I’ve gotten less than an A on anything, and everyone in the class is constantly asking me how I do it, like it’s hard to actually pay attention and know the right responses. I eagerly await my chance to sit at my desk in the very back and think about her brother.

How twisted is that?

I wonder if they’re close. If they get together on weekends, or what it was like for them growing up?

I’m dying to know.

I want to learn everything about him.

Do they have any other siblings? Do they ever discuss school?

Does he ever talk about me?

Ashley is the first person to notice my makeup when I return to the lunchroom from the bathroom.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Luci, look at you!” She says this so loudly that I want to punch her. Yes, I may have put on
tiny bit
of blush, as well as a
small dab
of mascara. I guess it makes a big difference on someone who never wears anything. My hair is still down, and I get it. I look different. I understand. I was clearly some monster before this and have made some huge transformation. This is exactly why I didn’t put on the makeup until now. At least I’ll have all of study hall to get used to it, as well as everyone’s reactions, before chemistry.

Unfortunately, when Ashley talks, everyone at our table looks her way, and then at me - guys and girls - the former shouting out catcalls and the later gushing on how ‘it’s about time.’

Despite them all now yelling apologies, I get up and convince the lady who sits outside the cafeteria, monitoring those who go in and out, to give me a pass to my locker.

I didn’t expect to run into Mr. Harrington as I pass the main office. My heart does that stupid racing thing and I actually keep on walking, deciding I don’t want him to see me with makeup on after all. In fact, it was stupid of me to do this, to think I could impress him this way. I have to wash it off, and I quickly look down, trying to pass by him unnoticed.

“Hey, Luci,” he calls.

I cringe and stop walking. I don’t look his way as I wait for him to catch up with me, and once I feel the heat of his body radiating off him and onto me, I continue my path.

“What are you doing?” I ask, still staring at the floor, annoyed. I don’t mean to come across so rude, but I
really
don’t want him to see me like this.

He laughs in response, even though I wasn’t trying to be funny.

It does crazy things to my insides.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking
you
that,” he chuckles softly. “Like if you have a pass or something?”

“Oh,” I fumble in my pocket, trying to find where I stuffed it.

“I don’t need to see it,” he grabs my arm, the contact catching me off guard. I look at his hand on me, his gentle hold, and he lets go.

I stop when we reach my locker, and so does he. It’s a weird moment, where he’s just staring, but I can’t complain because I do the same thing all the damn time.

“Um, don’t you have class?” I break the silence, embarrassed because he sees the makeup.

“It’s my lunch period,” he sounds far away, and I watch as he examines me. Now I
really
feel like the mascara is clumped on. My rosy pink cheeks have probably only intensified to an obnoxious deep color, thanks to him being next to me.

I bite my bottom lip out of nerves, releasing once his eyes peer at it, his stare slowly moving from my eyes to my cheeks before returning to my lips for a second time.

“I’m glad you left them as is,” he whispers.

I take this as his way of saying I really shouldn’t try so hard, which is essentially what I was doing.

So foolish!

“It’s…” I pause, trying to think of what to say. “It’s… it’s stupid, silly, really.” He smiles and I attempt to mask my humiliation by opening my locker. “I was just trying this… experiment,” I add, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, no, Luci,” his brow line creases and a frown forms on the sides of his mouth. “I didn’t mean anything like that… You’re…I think you’re…”

For a brief moment I think I recognize his struggle, and it takes me aback. I want to tell him,
hey I get it,
either before or after the extraordinary sex we’re destined to have, but his next statement completely bursts my bubble.

“You’re great just the way you are.”

And there we have it.

Gee, thanks Mr.

I run my fingers through my hair, brushing the long brown strands away from my face. I slam my locker door shut and start walking away. I mine as well get to study hall early. I pause before reaching the stairs and look back at him. He’s just standing there, in the exact same place, with his face in his hands.

I try to console myself as I wait for the bell to ring. What did I expect him to say?
Hey you look hot, Luci? Love the new look, Luci? We clearly have this weird, unexplainable connection, let’s see where it takes us?

He’s my teacher.

I’m his student.

I take back my earlier statement - I clearly
am
delusional.

I decide to leave the makeup on after all. I don’t need
him
to tell me
I’m great just the way I am
.