The Teacher's Pet

chapter two.

PHOTO SHOULD BE OF ALEX REYNOLDS.

Tuesday.

It was a Tuesday, a few weeks after he had given her the book to read and they first spoke outside of school.

It was nearing five o'clock and had rained all day, Belle was sitting in her room watching rain drops race down the glass. Her father was in the living room, getting drunk. They lived in a rundown building that was basically a cock roach infested hell hole. Her mother had been dead for going on ten years and her father had re-married a stripper.

Neither one was ever concerned with Belle and she spent more time taking care of them, than herself.

"Belle!" Her fathers voice rang through the small apartment.

She slid from the window seat and crossed the old, creaky hardwood floor. She entered the small, cramped kitchen. Her father was standing near the fridge, holding the door open.

"Yes?"

"Go to the store, get groceries and make dinner. Your mother is working late."

"Step mother."

"Don't talk back to me, do as your told."

"It's pouring, we have tuna and some other things here. I can make tuna noodle casserole."

She didn't get to say another word before he backhanded her, her head snapping sharply to the left and causing a sharp stabbing pain in her neck. Her cheek instantly throbbed and tears blinded her vision, she pressed a hand to her cheek and when she drew it away realized her nose was bleeding.

"I said get to the store and by the groceries."

She didn't move at first and he lifted his hand as if to strike her again, she grabbed her coat and hurried out the door before he could deliver another blow. Grabbing her shoes before going out the door.

She reached the sidewalk and began pulling on her shoes, her coat tucked under her arm was basically useless as she was already completely soaked. The store she most often used was only a few blocks away but in the rain it was still miserable.

By the time she stepped into the store she was drenched and knew her cheek was bruising. She pushed her wet hair back and dug in her coat pocket until she could produce a soaking wet, twenty dollar bill. It wouldn't go far but she could get some chicken and maybe some rice.

She knew a few of the other shoppers were staring at her and she didn't blame them. She must look like a drowned rat. She took a deep breath and wiped more blood on her sleeve, before starting down an aisle.

She grabbed a box of rice before heading to the meat section. She walked quickly, her wet shoes squeaking against the floors. She was just about to grab a small package of chicken when a deep voice called to her.

"Miss Whitley?"

She turned and saw her English teach, Mr. Alexander Reynolds. He was good-looking, so good looking and young. She'd estimate he was only in his mid to late twenties, every girl in the school wanted a piece of him and while she didn't openly fall all over him she'd be lying if she said she didn't notice him.

Blonde hair that was a touch too long for a teacher and piercing blue eyes. He wasn't clean shaven like the other teachers and he looked out of place standing there in a leather jacket and jeans instead of a suit.

"Mr. Reynolds, Hi."

"What happened?" he asked, moving closer and she flinched away.

"I walked in to a door, I'm so clumsy."