The Babysitting Contract | j.jk

08 • sex

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Jeongguk and I don't speak for the rest of the day.

In fact, we make a blatant point to ignore each other - more than usual.

Every time I think about the incident (as I now like to call it) in the teacher's lounge, bubbles of guilt and shame throth in my gut, burning my heart. It compels me to duck my head every time we make eye contact or speed away when I see him in the halls.

Because it's awkward.

It feels like there's a physical, almost tangible blanket of discomfort that cloaks Jeongguk and I. It squeezes the air from my lungs and robs me of all coherent thought until I'm barely able to concentrate on the math problems at hand. All I can think is oh my god this is so awkward someone please wack me on the head with a bat.

Last period Calculus is the only other class we share besides Biology, and thankfully, he's sat on the other side of the room, sharing a pod of desks with his girlfriend Gi.

But while I'm alone and sit distraction-less, I can practically hear Gi's floral voice lilt across the room. She's kept up a steady stream of questions throughout the period, pestering Jeongguk for the answers and explanations - and he's starting to look rather annoyed.

I should know because normally that expression is reserved solely for me.

The giant clock on the wall seems to be mocking me, ticking monotonously. I struggle (visibly, I'm sure, because the space above my eyebrows is starting to hurt) through the rest of the problems until the bell chimes, signalling - fucking finally - the end of the day.

I hurry to pack up my things, though as I store my folders in my backpack, it's hard not to listen in on Jeongguk and Gi's conversation - not when it seems like Gi is purposefully projecting her voice, making her presence known to all.

"Mr. Bang is such an ass," she laments loudly. From the corner of my eye I watch as her auburn curls bounce with a cute shake of her head. She places a comforting hand on Jeongguk's back. "I can't believe he gave you detention for being, like, a second late."

"Yeah. It sucks."

So I guess he didn't tell her about our little mission.

I shrug on my backpack and make headway for the door, eyes locked on my moving feet. The hallways are populous and alive, thriving with students eager to head home. I push my way through the crowds and fly out of the building.

The slight breeze provides no relief from the heat - if anything, it's only purpose is to mess with my hair, sending strands flying around me and into my mouth (which makes for a very attractive look as I sputter and spit them out, tongue curled).

Hands clutching the straps of my bag, I walk with purpose. I zip past Jeongguk's car and off school property, glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone's following. It's only when I've walked two blocks and turned down a familiar street that I slow slightly, my footsteps easing into a light tread.

Up ahead resides the bus stop that I normally wait at after school for a ride home, but it also marks the place where Jeongguk and I agreed to meet. Yesterday we devised a plan - in order to not raise suspicion, we decided to leave school at different times. Where he'd get into his car at the school parking lot, I'd leave school alone and he'd simply drive a little ways to pick me up.

But Jeongguk isn't here yet - the fierce red colour of the car would be hard to miss. I debate just walking home alone, even if my heels are absolutely killing me. It would save us both a load of pain and trouble and downright awkwardness.