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“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.”
