Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Starlet

“What the heck are you doing here?” I barked toward the mystery man after our English class ended. I told Mr. Slade I would hurry to the bathroom between periods, yet truthfully, I was on a mission to catch a second with Milo to figure out what was happening.

Milo.

His name was Milo Corti.

I figured that out from the handy-dandy student list Mr. Slade provided me with. Gosh, what a name for him. It seemed smug, like his personality. I could feel his stares on me the moment realization set in for him, too. Almost as if he were proud of the surprising storyline to his and my life.

I felt sick to my stomach the moment I locked eyes with him. I needed to take the longest, hottest shower of my life to wash away what we’d done together.

He was a student! A high school student!

He stood with his locker open and glanced down at me. I hated that, too—that he had to look down at me. I needed to feel taller than him, or well, more in power of the situation, and that didn’t come easy when he was peering down at me.

My eyes kept darting up and down the hallway to make sure no one was around to listen to our conversation.

“Listen, I’m as shocked as you are,” he said, his voice still as strong and certain as when I’d met him.

“How old are you?!” I whisper-shouted.

“Nineteen,” he replied. “I had health issues as a kid. Started kindergarten when I was seven. Why, Ms. Evans? Were you worried about something?”

My cheeks flushed at him calling me Ms. Evans.

Oh, I hated that.

I hated hearing my name roll off his tongue like that. Off the same tongue that rolled on me. On every. Piece. Of. Me. Even the parts I could hardly reach.

“You’re in high school!” I scolded. “What the heck were you doing at a frat party?”

“Pretty sure I was doing you, so…”

I swatted his arm. “No. No. Don’t do that. Don’t joke about this. It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“No. It’s not. How are you in high school? When we did that…that… thing …you didn’t do it like someone your age would do it. I thought you were older than me! You were very”—my face heated as I grew flustered—“advanced.”

He smirked, smug as ever. “I take that as a compliment.”

“Well, don’t. All I’m saying is, the things you did…those moves you had, were very mature .”

His wicked grin grew. “Thank you, Ms. Evans. I’d like you to know that you taught me a few things, too. Like how you like to be choked—”

“Shut up!” I whisper-shouted. “ Shut up, shut up, shut up !” Tears flooded my eyes, but I worked hard to keep them from falling. My nose stung with the overwhelming emotions due to my predicament at hand. My stomach bubbled with fear that everything I’d spent the last few years working toward was now in jeopardy. My hands were clammy and my jaw tight as I stared at him. I was seconds away from cracking completely, and the hammer that could destroy me was in Milo’s hands.

He tilted his head as if he would say something sarcastic back, but he bit his tongue instead. He turned away from me slightly and then looked my way again. “I’m not going to say shit about it, all right? Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Cry.”

“I’m not gonna cry.” Oh my gosh, I was so going to cry.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

My chest slightly untightened. “Swear?”

“You want my pinky or something?” he spat out.

Yes, well, kind of…

I shook my head. “No. It’s fine. No more touching—ever. We’ll be fine as long as we can stay professional and out of one another’s realm.”

“Yup. It’s only one hour a day.”

“Only eighty-six hours together until you graduate.”

“Did you just do that math? Did eighty-six pop into your head?”

“I did it while you took your quiz. I needed to calm myself.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Nerd.”

“Don’t call me a nerd,” I ordered, crossing my arms.

“Okay, Ms. Evans.”

“Don’t call me that either!” I shivered. I wish it were a shiver from disgust, yet if I were honest, him calling me that sent a pool of heat straight to my core. The words fell from his mouth like a dirty sin, and I secretly loved how it felt against my ears. His deep, velvety tone held such confidence and ruggedness that it was painfully seductive. My body was overheating, and it felt like my system would self-destruct at any moment. But he couldn’t know that. He’d never know that. “Seriously, don’t. It’s weird.”

“What am I supposed to call you?”

Solid question. “I don’t know—nothing. Call me nothing. Pretend I’m like the rest of your teachers. Pretend I don’t exist.”

“Easy enough.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Splendid.”

He grimaced and shut his locker. “Can I go to my next class, or were you going to walk me there?” he sarcastically remarked.

I stepped aside.

Before he could walk off, Principal Gallo called out to Milo and me.

“Milo, Ms. Evans. It appears you’ve already met one another,” he stated, heading our way.

That panic that somewhat subsided from my chest began to return with a vengeance as the principal of the whole school approached me. Oh my goodness, did he know? Did Milo share what happened between us with another student? Did they rat me out? Was I going to prison? Oh my gosh, I looked awful in orange. It did nothing for my eyes.

“Uh, hi, Principal Gallo,” I blurted out, uncertain what else to say.

Milo stood there with his backpack strap on one shoulder, calm, cool, and collected. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or just that laid-back regarding everything in life. He didn’t seem as terrified as I felt. Then again, he didn’t have as much to lose as I did.

Principal Gallo smiled, which threw me off. If he’d known what happened, a smile wouldn’t be resting on his face. “Milo, remember the tutor I got for you? This is her. She’ll be helping you out at the library after school each day. Thank you again, Ms. Evans, for volunteering to help.”

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

No!

No, no, no, no!

I pushed out a grin and nodded. “Yes, of course. Not a problem at all.”

Principal Gallo went on to talk, but my mind melted into a puddle of nothingness as a tiny grin found Milo’s lips. After he excused himself and walked off, Milo’s stare moved back to me. I caught his eyes darting up and down my figure, too, which led to me crossing my arms.

“I guess that’s one hundred and seventy-two hours spent together, now, huh, Ms. Evans?” he said before walking off, leaving me dazed and confused.

Well.

It appeared he wouldn’t need too much of my help with mathematics.

***

Over the past few hours, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mom would’ve thought about me, about my choices. I felt sick to my stomach when simply thinking about her disappointment in me. When I revealed to Whitney what had taken place, the guilt in my soul only intensified.

“ You slept with your student? ” Whitney blurted out; her eyes widened with nothing but pure shock.

I groaned as I collapsed onto my bed. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds so bad like that.”

“I think it sounds bad any way you slice it.”

“I know, I know. Trust me. It’s been a rough day. I’m also supposed to tutor him after school each day for an hour or two.”

For the first time, Whitney was struck speechless. I didn’t even know my best friend knew how to be quiet.

“Is it that bad?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“I mean, it’s not good.”

“You’re supposed to make me feel better about this, Whit.”

“Sorry, but, uh…you slept with your student! I’m pretty sure I read a romance book about this.” She rubbed the side of her chin. “But don’t worry, it ended with babies and a happily ever after.”

“This will not end with babies and a happily ever after.”

She arched an eyebrow. “That depends. Have you gotten your period since you went to bang town with a student?”

“Whitney! Please never say bang town again. And to be fair, he wasn’t my student when it happened, and he’s over eighteen, and—oh my gosh, I went to bang town with my student,” I groaned, rubbing my hands over my face. That was what I got for listening to the devil on my shoulder that night instead of the angel telling me to cry and watch He’s Just Not That Into You .

I blamed John for this.

I would’ve never been at that party if it weren’t for him.

“What were high school students doing at a college party, anyway?” I groaned. “They should do ID checks at the door or something. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“You put the poop in party-pooper. It’s not a club, Starlet. It’s a dirty, grim frat party. The bed you boned in probably had months’ old dirty sheets that others boned in that night.”

I shivered at the thought.

“Okay, okay, silver lining,” Whitney started. She must’ve seen the panic in my eyes. “You’re not sleeping with him ever again, and nobody outside of me, you, and him know about it, right?”

“Right. And he said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Perfect.” She patted her hands together. “See, as they say, ‘all’s well that ends well.’”

“Shakespeare knew what he was talking about.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that Shakespeare? I thought it was Harry Styles.”

“‘As it Was’ was Harry Styles.”

“That’s pretty much the same thing.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Potato-potahto, whatever. Did you ever learn what his actual name is instead of Dick?”

“Milo Corti.”

“Oh dang.” She sighed. “He even has a hot name.”

Tell me about it.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, maybe frats don’t need ID checks, but I do. From this point on, before I hook up with someone, I’ll have to ask for identification.”

Whitney giggled. “ Hi, I’m Starlet, and I’d like to go to bang town with you. But first, I’ll need to see your license and registration. ”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You know what I’ve been thinking about this whole time while you told me the nightmarish story of your life?”

“Do tell.”

“Tacos.”

I smiled.

She always thought about tacos.

Me, on the other hand? I was thinking of everything that could ruin my life forever if, for some reason, Milo got pissed at me one day, went rogue, and told everyone I let him blow out the candles on my birthday cake.

But tacos were the second thought to cross my mind.

I sighed and dropped my hands into my lap. “Taco Tuesday?”

“Taco Tuesday!” she cheered, tossing her hands up in victory.

***

I arrived at the high school the following day, ready to face my fears. I got there fifteen minutes early and sat in my car, waiting to go inside. My stomach’s butterflies felt like they were in an intense war against dragons. My intestines felt as if they were in knots. The idea of seeing Milo again made me feel nauseous, and the fact that I couldn’t simply avoid looking in his direction was driving me crazy, seeing as I was supposed to be the one tutoring him.

I’d considered asking Mr. Slade if I could switch to one of his other classes so I wouldn’t have to see Milo twice a day, but I couldn’t make it work with my college class schedule. Like it or not, I’d have to be around Milo Corti for two hours each weekday for the remainder of the semester.

I walked through the hallways of Brooks with my briefcase pulled tightly to my side. The day I bought the briefcase, I felt empowered and like a total badass for being professional. My dad took me on a shopping spree to buy teacher-appropriate outfits, and I felt as if I were killing the game. I called them my Michelle Obama power suits. When I tried them on, I was almost sure I could take on any room I entered.

The high school corridors were packed with students, all with their eyes glued to their phones, either taking selfies or watching some trending video. They hurried around on the linoleum tiles with backpacks slung on their shoulders and books stuffed under their armpits as their eyes stayed glued to their cell phones. Banners and festive balloons promoting the upcoming theater club’s performance of Hairspray and the senior prom were plastered on the walls. The scents of a high school were very distinct. A mixture of intoxicating perfumes and Axe body spray with dashes of sweaty gym socks.

Maroon lockers lined up in groups of ten, separated by doorways leading to the classrooms. A few lockers had been adorned with stickers and decorations that reflected the students’ personalities and interests. I couldn’t count the number of Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, and Beyoncé decorations I’d encountered. Yet, nothing was louder and prouder than the love of BTS. I couldn’t blame them. I was a proud member of the ARMY myself.

I moved through the high school hallways like a mouse trying to avoid lions. High school was scary when you were a student. I wasn’t cool during my high school years. If anything, I was the awkward straight-A student who kept her head in her books and hardly had a social life. That was the level of nerdhood I’d lived in. But now, high school was fifty times more terrifying as a teacher. A student teacher, but still. Especially when you accidentally slept with one of the students.

“Hi, Ms. Evans,” a deep voice said as I approached the classroom door. Those same shivers were recreated from his intoxicating sound, moving through my body and down my back.

“Stop calling me that,” I whispered, looking up to meet Milo’s stare.

I hated that he still smelled like oak trees and lemonade.

I also hated that he looked better today than he had the day before.

I wondered if he did that to irritate me or just looked better with every passing moment. I bet he’d be a silver fox in his sixties.

I went to walk into the room right as Milo did the same.

We bumped shoulders.

“Move,” I ordered.

He tilted his head at me, seemingly amused. He stepped backward and gestured toward the doorframe with a slight bow. “After you, Ms. Evans.”

I grimaced as I walked through the door, and as I did, I could feel his hot breaths not far behind me. Milo followed very close, pressing his front against my back. His heat saturated my power suit, throwing me completely off my stride. I picked up my pace, darting for my desk, trying to shake off his intensity. How would I survive being around Milo when it only took so little of him to cause such a commotion throughout my entire system?

Luckily for me, the first week of being a student teacher for Mr. Slade consisted of me observing from a distance. I didn’t have to speak a word in front of the class or in front of Milo. I solely sat at the desk Mr. Slade brought into the classroom for me and watched as he instructed the class.

Still, I felt it—Milo’s eyes lingering on me.