It Started With a Dance

The morning after.

“Oh god! How much did I drink last night?” I groaned when I woke up. I feels awful, my head hurts (I couldn’t even contemplate opening my eyes) and I feel slightly sick. As I thought about it, the sick feeling increased.

            “Ugh, I don’t want to be sick.” I moaned as I stumbled out of bed, not noticing the hardwood floor. I barely opened my eyes and stumbled through a door that leads into a hall. I banged into the next one; which was thankfully the toilet. When I finished being sick I wiped my face with some toilet paper, just in case, and looked up.

            “Oh fuck! Where am I?” This is not my toilet. I groaned and got up off the floor. It was only then that I realised that I am naked.

            “Shit! Where are my clothes?”After I washed my hands I rinsed my mouth with cold water, the best I could do without a toothbrush. How did I get here? I wondered. I stepped back into the hall, or at least I thought I did; more like I forgot to open the door. Wait, the door is in my hand. I looked straight ahead and found myself looking at a man’s naked chest. When I looked down slightly I was relieved to see that he had pants on. I remembered that I was naked.

            “Excuse me.” I said, timidly while looking at the floor. He stepped to the side and I ran back to the bedroom where I woke up, hoping that my clothes were there.

With my underwear and shoes on, I went in search of my dress. I found it sprawled across the stairs. I had just pulled the zip up when mystery man came out of the bathroom.

            “Would you like some breakfast?” He asked kindly. I blush furiously, but something about the voice makes me look up.

            “Oh shit!” I slept with Mr Sparks! His smile falters, but only a little.

            “Miss Morris, would you like some breakfast?” He asks again, but using my name this time, he looks serious; I suppose he wants to tell me not to tell anyone. I nod and then whisper, “Just some toast please.” He nods and waves at me to follow him into the kitchen. I do so, looking at the floor again. He holds out a chair for me at the table and waits for me to sit down before making toast for me and cereal for himself.

            “Coffee?” I look up at him and shake my head. He frowns back at me.

            “Would you like some tea or juice?” He asks.

            “Juice please.” He nods and places two glasses of juice down on the table, one in front of me, along with a selection of spreads. When he comes back from the kitchen next he has a plate of buttered toast for me and his bowl of cereal.

I am still not very hungry, and what little appetite I regained disappeared when I realised that I slept with my chemistry teacher. I nibbled at a piece of toast, so as not to be rude. When Mr Sparks has finished his cereal and I am only halfway done with my first piece of toast, he clears his throat. I put down the toast and look up at him. He looks like he doesn’t know how to say whatever he’s trying to say. Gathering my courage, I decide to do it for him.

            “I won’t tell anyone.” I pause, how could I tell anyone when I have no idea what happened, or more correctly how it happened.

            “I don’t remember much anyway.” His face fell.

            “I should go, thank you for breakfast Mr Sparks.”

            “Dylan.”

            “Huh?” He chuckled slightly,

            “Please call me Dylan outside of school; you’ve earned the right.” Then he frowned.

            “Thank you, for saying that you won’t tell; but we should tell the principal.” I shook my head frantically.

            “No, you’ll lose your job, they’ll suspend me. We can’t tell anyone!” I said vehemently. Mr Sp...Dylan held his hands up in surrender. I got up from the table, and went to find my phone and ID.

            “Tricia, what are you looking for?” Mr S...Dylan asked me as I was overturning his couch cushions.

            “My phone and ID.”

            “They are on the bedside table, I put them there last night.” I blushed and looked at him, not even a trace of embarrassment about what we did. I frowned and nodded. As I mounted the stairs I heard him call up to me, “When you’ve got them, I’ll drive you home.” When I got back down stairs, Mr Spar...Dylan had a jacket and his shoes on. He waved me out the front door in front of him, and into his black sedan.

            “Where are we going?” He asked me, I didn’t recognise where we are so I gave him my address, knowing that it was him or a taxi; and I didn’t have any money left on me, I had spent it all on drinks last night. When he pulled up a couple of houses back from mine, I said a quiet

            “Thanks.” But Mr Sp...Dylan grinned and said,

            “See you on Monday.”

            “Bye Mr Sparks.” He frowned as I shut the door, and then he drove off.

The front door was unlocked, so someone was up. I looked at the clock on my bedside table as I crawled back into bed, eleven in the morning on a Saturday; great! I put my head under my pillow and ignored the world for the rest of the weekend. I was not looking forward to school.