Page 42 of Bad Kind of Love

He was just my asshole teacher who I couldn't stop thinking about.

By the permanent scowl on his face I had a feeling he would say no, but a small part of me had its doubts.

“What time?” He asks, sending my heart into a panic.

The lady looks surprised but smiles big. “We're meeting at eight.”

Was he seriously only saying yes to mess with me? There's no way he actually wants to go. Right?

“Yah, I’ll go.” He nods with a brief upturned grin, and I feel like my whole body is about to explode with rage. Biting the inside of my mouth, I hold in the string of curse words that want to fly out at him. Not only did he lie about me disrupting class, but he agreed to going out with her.

And I was jealous. Beyond jealous that this woman could make him smile, while I only seemed to infuriate him just by breathing the same air he did.

“Great!” She exhales, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I.. uh.. I’ll meet you there.” She waves awkwardly before marching out of the class.

He doesn’t respond as she walks out and I'm seconds away from confronting him. Gripping the corners of my desk, I’m ready to tear into him and once and for all figure out what his deal with me is.

Why did he have such a blinding hate for me?

The voice inside my head was pacing back and forth, desperately wanting to lash out but the sounds of laughter soon stopped me. Students started piling in, and I was left to contain my anger. Dropping my stare from him, I focused on my heavy breathing. Trying to think of anything that would calm me down, I quickly reached for my headphones and latched them over my head, letting the music take over. Slowly, in and out, my breathing matched the soothing sounds of the meditating beat that poured out of the headphones.

Relaxed and calm, I drifted off until the dreaded bell rang and I now had to return my attention back to Mr. Fitzgerald.

With his back to the class, he scribbles on the chalkboard, dragging the chalk down roughly and creating a squealing sound that sends a strain of shivers down my spine. Apparently everyone else in the class felt it too as they tensed up in their seats.

Setting the chalk on the tray, he takes a step back revealing the words “Love or Tragedy.” As he spins around to face the class, his dark eyes roam over his students avoiding me altogether. This wasn’t new but with the lingering anger I still felt, I wish he’d at least glance my way.

Grabbing a stack of books off his deck, he stops in front of each row and places a pile of them on each desk.

“Pass the books back.” He orders, while sauntering back over to his desk and leaning his butt against the edge. He waits patiently for everyone to get a book, and once I’m passed one, I immediately look it over.

The Letters of Abelard and Heloise

It had a renaissance feel on the front cover but other than that, I didn’t know anything about the book.

“Does anyone know the story of Abelard and Heloise?” He asks gauging the whole class.

Crickets.

The class is dead silent until a hand flies up.

Mr. Fitzgerald focuses on Steven, a well-known pothead, and nods his head for him to answer.

“I think I heard about them in a documentary I was watching…. something about a teacher fucking his student.” His voice sounded like a total stoner as the class burst out in chuckles.

My eyes quickly shift over to Mr. Fitzgerald, and a murderous look is fitted across his features. Everyone knew he was a strict teacher, so they rarely made any attempt to cause a scene in class, but apparently Steven decided to break that today.

“You’re right.” He pushes off the desk and stalks toward the front of the class. As the rest of the class seemed stunned that Steven was actually right, the strange coincidence that we were now going to be reading a book about a student and teacher relationship sent a whirlwind of emotions through me. Mr. Fitzgerald and I were the furthest thing from a romantic affair, but the thought that he chose this story by chance was too coincidental. “But their story was more complex than that.”

“How?” Steven speaks up. “Seemed to me like he just wanted a taste of young pussy.”

Jesus Christ. Apparently Steven had a death wish today.

As the whole class erupted in laughter, I stayed quiet, curious to see what Mr. Fitzgerald would do. But he appeared as cool as a cucumber.

“Dude, you really think a guy would risk his career and reputation for some pussy?” The guy next to Steven spoke up.

Seriously? Were these guys stupid or what?

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