Page 2 of Cuffed By Love

Eleven years later…

“MR KING!” Sixteen-year-old Devin’s eyes snap open, and he gapes up at Mr Finch—the math teacher standing over him with his hands on his hips and his nose flared so wide he could practically see his brain from the angle he was sitting in... save for all the hair up there, of course. That image made Devin wince inwardly. “Are we keeping you up?”

Devin clears his throat and sinks back into his chair with a smirk. “Not at all, Mr Finch. I was listening to every word you said.” He retorts and smiles charmingly when his teacher snorts.

“Really? With your eyes closed and snoring?”

Devin looks at him, startled for a moment, and shifts in his chair. “Yes, sir, my eyes were closed so that I could... absorb every word of what you were saying.”

“Uh-huh and the snoring? I’m intrigued to find out what your explanation is for that one.” Mr Finch questions crossing his arms over his chest and glowering expectantly at Devin, who stares up at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“It wasn’t snoring, sir. I was in a meditative state. It was, um, Tibetan throat singing.” Devin looks over to his left when he hears a snort followed by a muffled giggle—he knows that laugh well—Tinks. Mira covers her laughter with a cough and watches on eagerly.

“Tibetan throat singing?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been practising, and you know it’s quite soothing…” Devin goes on to explain and waves his finger in a circle near his head. “I can’t stop it. It’s good for my Chakra.”

Mr Finch’s lips twitch, and he nods before he glances around the room. “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say we would all just love to hear this very soothing throat singing of yours.” Devin’s brown eyes go wide like saucers, and he shoots Mira a beeseeching look while she sinks into her chair, hand clasped at her mouth, trying desperately to hold back her laughter.

“Oh, you really wouldn’t...” Devin retorts, shaking his head, but Mr Finch gestures for Devin to stand.

“Come on, Mr King. Let’s hear this throat singing of yours.” The entire class turns in their seats, watching Devin curiously. “Whenever you’re ready, Mr King.”

Devin clears his throat and looks over at Mira, who was turning red from fighting back her laughter while watching him. Devin starts with a low hum deep in his throat, and gradually gets louder and louder and then makes random throaty sounds mixed with whines all the while fighting off the urge to laugh after sneaking a look at Mira holding her nose, tears rolling down her cheeks while she smothers her laughter and fails miserably. Mr Finch watches Devin and rubs his jaw, smiling whilst the rest of the class burst into fits of laughter.

“Thank you, Mr King. That was…well that was something.” He chuckles and gestures for him to sit. “I’ll give an A for effort, but it wasn’t good enough to get you off detention after school.” Mr Finch looks over at Mira, still laughing uncontrollably. “Miss Evans will be joining you also.” That sobers her up, and she looks at Mr Finch then at Devin, who smirks at her smugly. They share a look, and both burst out laughing. “Stop laughing or get out of my class.”

Ten minutes later they both got booted out of class, laughing their way to the headteacher’s office.

“Psst.”

Mira jumps when a balled-up paper bounces off her head. She looks up from her homework and scowls at a grinning Devin. “What?”

“You got any snacks?”

Mira throws the balled-up paper back at him. “What am I, your personal vending machine?” Mira utters quietly. Devin smirks, sneaking a look at the teacher who was too engrossed in his book to acknowledge them before he looks at Mira again, licking his lips. “I get hungry when I’m bored, and you’ve always got goodies in your backpack.” He voices with an adorable smile that melts Mira at once. With a roll of her eyes, she kicks her bag over to him, which he scoops up and digs through till he finds something he likes. Devin pulls out a small silver foil he finds in the pocket of her bag, and his smile falls, quickly turning into a scowl. He turns his attention to Mira, his brows drawn together. “Tinks, why do you have a condom?”

Mira looks over at him, her amber eyes grow wide, and she reaches over to take it from him, but he pulls it out of her reach. “Dev, give it to me.”

“Why do you have a…” Dev stops when the tone of his voice gets louder, and the teacher looks over at them. Mira’s cheeks burn, and she gives Dev a side stare while he glares back at her.

“All right, you two, you’re free to go.” The teacher dismisses them, closing his book and gathering his possessions off the desk. Mira snatches her bag off Devin and reaches for the packet, but he pulls it back from her reach and stands.

“Devin, give it back.” Mira insists, keeping her voice down until the teacher walks out of the classroom.

“Fuck no, first you explain why you need a rubber?” He questions, towering over her, his brown eyes staring questioningly into hers. “Are you sleeping with someone? It better not be that prick Calum.”

Mira glares up at him, “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not sleeping with anyone, nor am I thinking about sleeping with anyone anytime soon.” She snatches the packet off him and stuffs it in her bag. Devin’s shoulders visibly relax as he follows her out of the classroom.

“So why are you carrying a condom in your bag?” Devin inquires while they stroll through the school’s corridor toward the exit. Mira sighs, scratching her temple to hide the blush forming on her cheeks.

“I got it from sex-ed, okay,” Mira admits with a huff. “They were handing them out.” Devin stuffs his hands in his pockets and shoulder bumps Mira while they exit the school. She looks over at him, and when he smiles at her charmingly, she shoves him away.

“You had me worried there for a minute, Tinks,” Devin confesses, poking her side playfully.

Mira slaps his hands away with a frown and peers up at him. “I’m sorry? I didn’t realise you were my vagina’s gate keeper?” Devin laughs heartily at her remark. “Why do you care who I sleep with and what’s wrong with Calum?”

Devin shakes his head, raking his fingers through his wavy light brown hair, his eyes gleam under the late afternoon sun. “Tinks, it would be quicker to list what’s right with him. Nothing.”

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