Veronica (teacher x student)

8

We kept driving around talking about sexuality, "In fact, some people have no sexuality. They simply don't like dating," I add to our conversation.

"So where do you lie?" she asks. I give her a confused look but I know where this is going, "Sexuality-wise," Erica says. I stay quiet for a moment before speaking,

"I haven't had a boyfriend in two years and I like it. I like boys, I mean. I just don't really like dating that much, I've found that I'm not very romantic. I've never had a girlfriend," I begin but the words are too thick in my throat, "I would like to try having a relationship with another woman someday,".

"Don't feel like you need to put a label on yourself, dear. I've tried different things throughout the years and I still am not sure about my sexuality. It's so fluid I feel like even if I do find one, it might change with time," Erica explains, every word correctly describing how I truly felt.

"Anyways, I think you need to relieve some of your stress," Erica says, placing her hand on my knee.

"I don't know how I could relieve my stress when I can't take any time off. I have school all day, then volleyball, then eat, shower, and sleep. I have this endless cycle of manic anxiety and I don't know what to do," I tell her. She seems to think for a moment before her hand begins to wander up my leg. Her hand rests on my upper thigh.

"We need to find you an activity that can help you with that, maybe we can find one while we have downtime at the speech competition," Her hand gradually inching inward. I close my eyes as she moves her hand around my thigh, it even wanders near dangerous territory. The car stops and I open my eyes, she removes her hand from my leg.

"Find some relaxation, alright? Goodnight," Erica says. I get out of the passenger seat of her car and walk over to my car which was still sitting in the student's parking lot. I sit in the driver's seat and tilt my head back. God, I wish I could feel that again. Erica makes me relaxed, her actions make all my worries go away. I turn on the radio before I leave to go back home.

We leave tomorrow morning for my speech competition. I've been researching and preparing. All night I have been watching YouTube videos on the chemicals in our brain relating to our sexuality. It's actually very interesting, you really can't control your sexuality. I begin writing and writing all about what I want to say, although, when I actually do present my speech I cannot have any resources. I can't even focus on my current classes, all I've been thinking about is this damn speech. 

I felt like a zombie wandering around the school. I heard what people were saying but not listening. Every time someone started to talk to me about something I gave back a vague, nickelodeon movie-type response.

"That's so cool!" or "Yeah, that happened to me too," or even, "Totally!".

I was a zombie all through English even. I kept wandering my eyes off of the board and to the window. The end of the day bell rang and I have no idea what we covered in class. Ms. Wright walks over to my desk and sits on it. By all the noise followed by silence, I guess every kid was impatiently waiting for the school day to be over. My eyes still stared hard at the nature outside. The window is close to the softball field.

I jolt a little at the touch of Ms. Wright, her hand firmly holding my chin as she redirected my face to look up at hers.

"What were you thinking about?" Erica asks her grip not loosening.

"Mainly about my speech tomorrow, but I can't help to also think about softball since your classroom is pretty close to the field," I tell her. She lets her pointer finger away from her grip and it begins to trace my jawline. 

"You know, you never seem to pay attention in my class. Every day it looks like you're in a completely different world," She says fantasizing about my being.

"I can't help it. My mom thinks I'm a maladaptive daydreamer," I confess, it's not a very interesting secret but I've never told any of my friends that.

"Tell me," Erica pauses for a second, "What do you daydream about?".

We become quiet as we stare into each other's eyes. We share a few moments of complete silence. In my vision, I see the clock slightly blurred to the left of her head. I focus on it and realize if I stay any longer I might be late for volleyball practice. I get out of my desk and Ms. Wright's hands fall to her sides. I quickly throw my backpack over my shoulder.

"Sorry, I got to hurry to volleyball, I don't want to be late," I say and rush out of the door. I purposefully left her question unanswered. If I did happen to answer it, I think I would blush tomato red because the explanation was simple. I can even put it into one word. I would've easily said,

"you,".

In practice, I was practicing defense. My arms were growing a slight red from digging all the spiked balls. Ball after ball, the coaches were not giving us a break. All sounds, the feet hitting the floor, girls yelling out, the ball slamming against the gym floor all went away. The only thing I heard was this slow clicking coming from the hallway. I look out one of the gymnasium doors and see Ms. Wright walking past. Her heels make a light-click noise. She checks her watch as she stops walking. Her head turns and her eyes scan the court, our eyes connect and she smiles. The corners of my mouth were creeping into a smile until a ball slams hard into my shoulder.

"Holmes, we need to get you some ADHD meds or something," one of the hitters, Emma, joked to me. I smile and everyone else laughs as I rub my shoulder.

"Stay focused! If I see you do that in a game, you're running," the coach warns me.

After volleyball was over, I just wanted to go home and practice for my speech tomorrow. I unlock my car and open the door.

"Veronica! Since volleyball is already almost over, do you want to go out to eat with us?" Emma asks me. I want to go home, but I don't want to miss out on these things.

"Sure, where are we going?" I respond back without really thinking.

"The new bar and grill on Main Street. I'm driving, get in," Emma says. I walk over and get into her passenger seat. Three other girls on the team shove into the backseat.

We sit down at a big round booth and immediately begin talking about nonsense.

"Kyle is so hot, but I don't want to date him after he cheated multiple times on Olivia," Ava begins talking. I'm not too interested in any guys at our school so I temporarily mute my ears.

"Too bad Liam went to juvie, he was so so hot. Veronica, you were so lucky, I wish he would look at me like he looked at you," I hear Camila say and I impulsively perk my head up.

"What do you mean?" I ask her repulsed.

"Liam was hot, he was so nice to you. I mean, no wonder he went all crazy on you when you were dressed like that. It's like you wanted him to do all those things," Camila says.

"I constantly rejected him. I told him to never talk to me again. Don't ever say that it was because of how I dressed because I was just wearing my volleyball clothes. You don't know what all happened," I somewhat raise my voice. Everyone went quiet.

"Whore," Camila whispers under her breath.

"What did you say?" I yelled standing up from my spot.

"Whore," She enunciates clearly, "Plus we all know your real type anyways... teachers,". I could feel all the color leave my face. My cheeks began to burn.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I say, my voice lowering.

"So it's true. I swear you are always in his classroom, it's so obvious," Ava says grinning like a serial killer.

"Mr. McKenna is one lucky man, getting the girl all the boys want," Emma says nudging me. I sit back down and begin to play with my food. All the girls began laughing and joking. I was extremely happy that they actually didn't know what they were talking about, but I hid the emotion. I blankly shoved the corn on my plate back and forth as they continue to talk.