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I was in deep shit.
Chapter 3
Candy
I had never been so excited to get to school. I straightened my hair with my flat-iron, so it was even longer and applied some product so it gleamed. I didn’t want to appear like I was trying to impress too hard though so I dressed in some midnight blue The Row wide-legged pants and a tie-necked Thierry Colson white blouse. I finished the look with a pair of Prada velvet mules. As I did daily, I added my vintage Rolex Oyster Perpetual date watch with its peach dial and cream strap. It dated from around 1967, and I adored it.
As usual, Larissa picked me up to take me to school, or rather, Jeff did at Larissa’s command. I had the whole day to get through before I saw Mr. Newell again.
I sighed out loud, and Larissa turned to me.
“What’s with you today, Candy? Did you not sleep well last night? You seem out of it.”
I realized I needed to focus on my friends and my school day so I changed to a subject I knew Larissa would adore—my party.
“My mom is giving me grief about the party. She wants it done her way, all ‘grown up, ’ and she wants adults there. She just wants to show off their wealth again, not me. I’ve told her what I’d like, but she’s not listening.”
“Can you not have two parties? One for family and one for friends?”
“Oh, who knows? I’m sick of it all now. I might run away and celebrate my birthday in a McDonalds all by myself.”
“No, you won’t. If you run away, we’ll come with you, won’t we Jeff?”
“Course.” Jeff kept his eyes on the road, and I know that if we asked him what we’d been talking about, he’d have no idea. I bet his mind was on driving and some sports game.
“Do you want to grab a burger after school? Get some practice in?” Larissa added.
“I can’t. I have to tutor after school.” I replied.
“Ah.” Larissa’s face lit up in amusement. “Now I know why you’re so spaced out today. Dreaming about Mr. Newell locking the classroom door and pounding you over the desk.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I flushed.
“What?” Jeff’s face turned away from his driving. “She’s getting it on with Newell?”
“No dufus.” Larissa shook her head. “She just wants to. Don’t you, Candy. So does half the class. He’s hot. I’d do him if I didn’t have you, honey.”
“Yeah, well you do have me so keep your eyes on your books.”
“Aw, there’s nothing to be jealous of, babe, you’re all I want.” Larissa pouted at him and then she leaned over and stroked her hand across his dick.
I wanted to puke at the PDA, but instead, I focused on Jeff’s jealousy which amused me. Larissa didn’t always get the upper hand in that relationship.
The day dragged on. I tried my hardest to focus as I figured that way the hours might speed up but they never did. I barely ate anything at lunch, I was so nervous about my extra lesson, and I drank soda with lots of sugar to keep me awake, plus my mouth was permanently dry. The final bell rang, and I made my way to the bathroom so I could check my appearance.
I reapplied my lip gloss and ran a brush through my hair. I sprayed a mouth freshener inside my mouth so I wouldn’t have dog breath and then I stood and appraised myself in the mirror. I looked fresh but not like I’d made a huge effort. Perfect. Taking a deep breath, I made my way down to Mr. Newell’s classroom and knocked on the door.
“Come in.” His husky voice directed.
I pushed open the door. I’d underestimated what my reaction to him would be. My mind had not been able to fully capture the perfection that was Mr. Newell. Now here he was in front of me, looking up from his desk. That perfect hair, those blue eyes that had a kindly look about them, but also felt like they could pierce through me like an X-ray. His jacket was on the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his pale-gray shirt were rolled up to the elbow, revealing defined lower arms. I watched as his gaze returned to the books before him and the muscles and tendons beneath that golden skin moved and rippled as he moved the books around.
I felt like I’d stood there forever staring, but it had been mere seconds. I felt locked in a freeze-frame, happy to stay frozen for the rest of my life.
“Miss Appleton, take a seat please.” He gestured to the desk in front of him. I walked over and sat there, dropping my tote to the floor to my right and then I shrugged out of my jacket, his eyes followed my every move as if he wanted to critique my performance already.
“Can you call me Candy, please, like in class? Miss. Appleton is what the staff at home call me. I hate it.”
“Well, I can assure you that here I’m not your ‘staff’. I’m your teacher.” Super. I’d only been here about three minutes, and already the teacher was pissed at me.
