Her First Bite

Eleven | Pancakes, Eggs, Hashbrowns

And to add onto my statement about me being a mess- I was also a dumbass.

No- not the kind-of dumbass who doesn't know how to multiply or some shit, or not the dumbass who gets in a random car with a total stranger on some cold windy night, or not the dumbass who takes a drink from a random guy at some shitty ass party-

No- I was the other kind-of dumbass. The type of dumbass who thought that a guy would stay the night over. The type of dumbass who thought Vance would stay over.

Yeah a man could release himself all over you, but somehow there was a some-sort of other line that could not be crossed. The line of sharing a bed.

It was confusing.

I could actually laugh at it if I had the energy to. What was I thinking? That he somehow was actually going to really follow through? That we were going to be having fucking sleepovers? That he was going to wake up, today, with me this morning and give me some kind-of confession?

Wow. I honesty thought that if someone were to ask google who are the dumbest people in the world my name would be the first on that list, in bold-fucking-print: River Dumbassdoesn'tknowwhataonenightstandis Ballas.

But don't the one-night stands actually sleepover?

Ugh. I was really reading into too much last night. Reading too much into those kisses, reading too much into those touches, basically reading too much into everything. So - here I state my title once again - I was the dumbass who didn't know what a one-night stand was plus a dumbass who didn't know how to spell Wisnesday? Wait- Wennisday? No-Wednesday.

Oh no. Maybe I was apart of the both types of the dumbasses.

My eyes opened - shit it was bright outside - then my senses followed in suit. And fuck, even my bed smelt like him.

And the smell, smelt somewhat. . .overpowering. Like present. Newly present. I turned over to my side and spotted a dent in the bed. Now, that dent looked fresh- like someone had just gotten up. Okay if that was the case, then what time did he actually leave? I faintly remember waking up to check the time, during the middle of the night, and felt something secured around my stomach. No, I felt his hand. It was him. . .then when did he leave?

You know what. . .It was too early for me to play inspecter-fucking-gadget. The main point was that he left. He left without saying goodbye. He left without waking me up. He just left.

But I was going to handle this like an adult though. Like I said a day ago, it was too bad. In my life, things were always too bad. But this time- it was too bad on his part that he didn't want to stay. This had nothing to do with me, it was all on his end. It was his choice. If he wanted to make this a one night thing that was fine with me. Perfect actually. I didn't want to date Vance. I didn't want to date my- hello teacher.

And I seemed to be forgetting that one major important detail throughout this whole evaluation. That man was my teacher. My teacher that taught me on Thursdays at school. A big part of the staff. Now, I can admit that in a couple of months that statement would not be true, but right now- I needed to remember that he was still my teacher.

My teacher who fingered me in his classroom. My teacher who I grinded upon not once, but twice in a public area. My teacher that I kissed twice. My teacher that fucked me up with my very own vibrator. My teacher who I got on my knees for and sucked his dick. That teacher.

Also, the teacher who also snuck out the morning after.

So, I needed to keep that very informative thought inside my head: Vance was my teacher. Aka: Now needed to be officially off limits.