❝You're fucking sick.❞

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              June sits in the small and highly uncomfortable chair with her right leg over her left and the eraser part of the pencil in her mouth as she stares at the man sitting at his large desk in front of the classroom, reading over homework that he passed out lacrossedst night.

               The class was supposed to be doing the test that he had handed out almost fifteen minutes ago but she got stuck on the sixth question so instead found interest in the handsome man sitting in the front with his head resting on the palm of his hand.

               June glances around the room, seeing that everyone was still working on their test, she stands up and walks towards the front of the classroom, the heels that she had on tapping against the hard floor and disturbing the silent classroom.

               Mr. Shakur sighs deeply, without even looking up he already knew who was making their way towards his desk now. He was never too fond of the eighteen year old - she always wore those short skirts and tight shirts that looked as if they belonged to a seven year old child.

               It was a mystery that she never got sent home because of the inappropriate clothing that she wore.

               “Hello, Mr. Shakur,”June greets, flipping her jet black hair behind her shoulder and he looks up, giving her a small and obviously fake smile. “Do you mind helping me with a problem?”

               He hated the way that she always spoke to him as if she was a little kid or a child, she always tried to make herself sound innocent- but he knew that she was far from innocent, everything from her body language to her status around school gave all of that away.

               He runs a hand down his face, sighing. “Yeah," she makes her way around his desk and she slides the paper over to him and he furrow his eyebrows.“June, I gave you this test almost twenty minutes ago and you're only on number six?”

               June looks down, a smile still on her face. “I got distracted,” she tells him with a small shrug. “Maybe I need a daddy to keep me on track.”

               Mr. Shakur suddenly starts choking and he pats his chest while everyone in the classroom look up at him weirdly. June reaches over and passes him his water bottle with an amused glint in her eye.

               “Are you alright, Mr. Shakur?” June asks, grabbing his shoulder and he nods, taking a sip from the water bottle, he clears his throat a few times before taking another sip. “Did I say something wrong?”

               This was another reason he didn't like her too much, she would say innappropriate shit and then act as if nothing happened. It annoyed him more than anything.

“June, I think you should take a seat." He says, grabbing his red pen again and begins writing on someones homework. June frowns as she stares at him weird. He glares up at her. "Now.."

June crosses her arms over her chest before leaning against his desk. "Why didn't you call me last night?"

He should had known this conversation was about to lead to this. It always did whenever the two of them spoke to one another. "I don't know, maybe because I'm your teacher." He says sarcastically.

"That's not what you were saying when you had me bent over your--

Before she could finish her sentence, he angrily grabs her wrist tightly causing her to flinch a little and stop speaking but then a smirk spreads across her face and she says something that made him want to hit her upside the head with the textbook that was on his desk, she says: "Oh, you remember I liked it rough?"

He closes his eyes tightly and lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down a little before he said some things that would get him fired or in prison. "That was an accident. I was drunk and we promised that we wouldn't talk about that ever again."

About a month ago, Mr. Shakur had agreed to tutor her but she was (supposedly) locked out of her house and the school didn't allow anyone to stay inside the building after hours so they chose to do the session at his home.

Neither of them knew exactly how it happened. One minute they were on his living room couch and he was helping her with an algebraic expression, the next, they were upstairs in the bedroom that he shared with his wife.

June runs a hand through her dark hair. "Out of all the teachers that I fuck with, you are definitely my favorite, you have a wife and two beautiful kids.. and you actually give a damn about them."

Mr. Shakur stares at the eighteen year old in confusion and she continues, "Mr. Wright doesn't give a damn about his wife so that's no fun and Mr. Wallace's stomach is too big and he always --

He cuts her off once again. "You're fucking sick." He says and she smiles again. "There is nothing funny about this, you have a disgusting fetish."

June sighs and suddenly the bell rings, signaling that it was time for classes to switch and June watches as each student grab the papers from their desk and brings it to the front.

"Okay, everyone, I will see you tomorrow!" Mr. Shakur tells his classroom as they walk out of the hot classroom. "Why are you still standing here?" He asks, standing up and walking to the chalkboard at the front of the class.

He begins writing on the board and June stares at his back, remembering how deep she was pushing her nails into him. I wonder if his wife even noticed them.

June walks up to him and smiles widely, she grabs his shoulder, turning him around abruptly, grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulls him down hard and crashes her lips onto his.



AUTHOR SPEAKS: Damn, this is the first chapter for this book and it already seems messy asf. It's 3AM and I didn't know where I was going with this.

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