𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 | 𝟏𝟖+

EIGHT

A L Y S S A

"Love when it comes without a warning, 'cause waiting for it gets so boring. A lot can change in twenty seconds, a lot can happen in the dark."

. . .

I barely slept a wink last night, and I reread the essay I submitted over a hundred times. I pretty much convinced myself it was a perfect essay, but you never know.

But what bothers me, is that I can't tell what Mr. Moreno thought of it.

He only gave me a glance in passing when I entered the auditorium, and I couldn't read on his face if he'd seen my essay or even read it.

"What's up with you?" Tess whispers quietly from beside me during our class. I sigh.

"I forgot to turn in the essay that was due two days ago."

Tess gasps softly, earning looks from the people beside us and in front of us.

"You forgot? Dumb bitch."

"Boyfriend cheated, remember?"

"Right, I'm sorry. I'm the dumb bitch."

I snort and sink away in my chair so as to not attract attention to me.

"Well, Mr. Moreno called me back yesterday and pointed it out to me. At first, he wanted to take off 50 percent of my grade!"

"That's absurd."

"I know. I got mad about it and then he changed his mind to only 25 percent. I'm still stressing the fuck out. What if my essay totally flopped, I have a bad grade that turns even worse because 25 percent is going off it."

"You're one of the most hard-working students I know. You'll have a good grade, no matter what happens to it."

I can only hope so.

I'm glad when class ends and release a sigh of relief. Getting up, I take my time getting my things before descending the stairs.

Mr. Moreno looks up and our eyes meet. His tongue comes out to wet his lower lip.

Leaning back, he gestures to the front of his desk and I know he wants me to stay behind.

He waits until everyone has left before he addresses me.

"Last night, I saw that you submitted the essay," he tells me, and I exhale softly. I'm glad he at least knows of it.

"Yes, I did," I say, keeping quiet and letting him proceed.

"I was impressed, Alyssa," he says, sitting back in his chair.

Even though he needs to look up at me given our position – him sitting behind the desk and me standing in front of it – he still exudes authority and even a slight hint of dominance.

"You were right. Your essay was very good. It read fluently and it's filled to the brim with passion for your subject, which I can appreciate. I decided to let you keep the whole grade."

Disbelief fills me, and I can't help the stupid smile breaking across my face.

The anxiety eating at me leaves my body at once and my muscles relax.

"That's... that's..." I breathe and shake my head.

"Thank you, sir," I whisper, truly grateful.

His eyes darken and he nods.

"Don't get used to this treatment. It's not often I change my mind about some things, but as I said; I was very impressed."

The compliment and praise do things to my body, and I find it hard to suppress a blush.