Vicious Love (Barrington Heights #1) (2 page)

chapter 3

chris

“Hey, douchebag. How was debate?”

I looked up at Devin and smiled. “Great, fatty. Grace Lachance is in my class, and I’m mentoring her.”

Grace Lachance had been Devin’s crush for as long as anyone could remember. Devin was a sweet guy, but he didn’t have nerve. He worked out a lot—which was why I called him fatty—to try to get girls to talk to him, so he didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. He couldn’t keep a conversation either.

“Oh, cool. Tell her I said hey or something.” He tried to play this one cool, but everyone at our lunch table could tell that he was immediately jealous.

“Ya, I’ll tell her you said hey when I’m at her place tonight.” That was probably below the belt, but he knew that I hated being called a douchebag, and this time, he’d started it.

“Wait, are you really going to her place? Not cool, man. I thought we were best friends!”

Yeah, I’d definitely hit below the belt.

I laughed. “Chill, bro. I’m not going over to her place. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.” It was true. I would never violate the trust Devin and I had. He was my best friend. Hell, I considered him a brother.

“Yeah, I know. Still have to check though.” He seemed pleased.

“Well, when you two pussies are done having your little heart-to-heart chat, why don’t you come talk to the big boys over here.” This, ironically, came from my other best friend, Audrey.

“Don’t worry, Audrey. There’s still enough man here for you.”

She loves it when I play that card.

“Yeah, Audrey. Chris and I have each other for emotional support and you for physical.”

We both winked at her.

“Mhmmm. If that’s true, then why don’t the two of you come over later tonight?” she asked, fully knowing that we would.

“Of course we will,” I responded.

Audrey and I had dated for a couple of months back in freshman year. It hadn’t worked out, but, damn, the sex had been great. We’d become best friends along the way, and she had been a good enough sport to let Devin lose his virginity to her. We all had a continuous physical thing, but it didn’t cross over anywhere else. Impossible, right? Wrong. It’s very possible. Just play your cards right.

The bell rang, signaling that lunch was over.

“Well, guys, I’ve got to go to econ,” I said while tossing out my tray.

“Really? With the new teacher?” asked Audrey. She was the one who got the school gossip. “If you do, apparently she’s hot as fuck.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but seriously, I doubt it. See you later.” I left without letting them get another word in. I was busy, and they were getting boring.

Well, maybe I wasn’t busy, but I was definitely bored.

I walked into the class without noticing who the teacher was. I went to the back and chose a desk there. The back corner, near the window, like always. It helped me think.

The bell rang again and I heard a voice saying, “Good morning, everyone. I’m Miss Beaumont, your economics teacher. As you might have noticed, I’m a new teacher here. However, I taught for two years in New York City at a private school, so I do have experience. Any questions?”

There were a couple of questions asked, but I didn’t catch them. I didn’t intend to pay attention. We were seniors now, which meant none of that ‘get to know each other’ bullshit, which I enjoyed not doing. I just stared out the window and zoned out for the next ninety minutes. 

chapter 4

jennet

“Okay, class. You’re all seniors, which means that you probably know most of each other already. I may be new, but I’m not cruel. I’m not going to force you guys to play a game or something. So, instead, we’re just going to use today to discuss and debate the subjects of economics. Sound good? First, I need to take attendance though.”

I looked down at my list and started reading over the names. Everyone said, “Here,” immediately except for a student in the back.

“Christopher Wells.” Nothing. “Is Christopher Wells here?”

“Oh, yeah. Here.”

I looked back to see who it was, but I couldn’t get a good enough view. His voice seemed different than the other students’ though. More authoritative. He sounded like someone who had an idea and demanded everyone to listen, no matter if they agreed with him or not.

“Okay, that seems like everyone.” Wells was the last name on the list. “And it seems as if everyone is here on the first day. That’s a first for me, both as a teacher and as a student, but shush. Don’t tell anyone.”

At the little joke of mine, the class laughed.

I began my lecture over what economics is, the different types of economics, and how it affects the world. We had a discussion about everything and most of the students participated. I heard a lot of different voices, but not the one I was looking for. Since I hadn’t put a face to the name of Christopher Wells, I was hoping he would speak up during class, but it seemed as if that wasn’t going to happen.

“What’s the difference between micro and macroeconomics again?” Some student chimed up, but not the right one.

I explained the difference and then played a YouTube video relating to it. The student seemed to get it, which was good and all, but I still hadn’t heard the voice I was looking for.

I played another video for the rest of class and thought on Wells’s voice. Why was it so captivating to me? It was a student we’re talking about here.
What’s the point, Jennet?

I knew what the point was, and it was simple. I was attracted to him already. I didn’t even know what he looked like, but I was attracted to him. We were taught ahead of time that, every now and then, we were going to be attracted to a student and that it was okay. But we couldn’t act on it. That was the key point here: I couldn’t act on it.

I looked around the dark room and noticed a few attractive guys. There was a blond jock in the front, his shoulders wide and arms long. He easily could lift me up and hold me tight. There was a brunette in the front who was talking to the blond jock. He looked like a swimmer. He probably had six-pack abs I could trace my finger around again and again while he played with my hair.

Then I noticed another boy sitting in the back, not even paying attention to the video or anyone else in the room. He was a different type of attractive. Yes, he was physically appealing, but there was something else. He wore designer clothes that hugged his body well. Luckily, he was sitting next to a window, which let some light into the room. His shoulders were naturally broad, and his arms were long but not too thick. His chest looked strong and well worked, and his face was to die for. He had the jawline of a Greek god; he almost didn’t look human for a second. He held himself quite well while sitting down—something hard to do. He had neat, black hair, which was styled, unlike the other male students in the room. I just couldn’t see his eyes.

I could picture him holding me close at night, staring into my eyes, keeping my body close to his. Holding me down and kissing me in the moonlight as his body became intertwined with mine. I could see him pulling my leg up to his waist and sliding his hand down my side. Grabbing my ass and slapping it without holding back until it was cherry red and throbbing, but I would ask for more. For him to give me everything he had, all at once, as he slid closer and closer, as he was about to enter me, as I was about to flood open in magnificent orgasms.

As the bell woke me from my daydream, I noticed that my hands were moving down to my pussy. I took a deep breath and started packing my things. Without looking up, I asked if someone would help me to my next class, but there wasn’t an answer. So I glanced up and gasped. There was only one person left in the room, the only person who could help me to my next class, and it had to be him.

chapter 5

chris

Finally, I can go home,
I thought to myself as I packed up my bag and found my keys.
I can finally get out of this hellhole. I think I’ll learn to love having a free period at the end of every other day.
It was then that I heard her asking me something. I looked up and she repeated,

“Uhm, hi. Excuse me, but can you help me to my next class?”

It took me a second to figure out that she was talking to me and another second to figure out that I was the only other person in the room.

“Can you? As you know, I’m a new teacher here, and I have no clue where room 212 is.”

When I looked directly at her, I was completely surprised. There, before me, stood the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had long, red hair that hung around her face with such elegance that angels would be envious. Her lips were full, sitting there together, nearly forming a heart shape. Her cheeks were stained crimson, like she was embarrassed or something. Her body was magnificent. She was slender and had the perfect hourglass figure to her. But her eyes. It was her eyes that truly caught me off guard. They were the most emerald-green eyes I’d ever looked into. So beautiful and precious that they surely must have been worth more than the gems they represented.

I snapped out of it and finally responded, “Of course. My last class was actually in the same room. I can show you a shortcut.”

“Oh, thank you. So, uhm, let’s go?” She looked flushed, as if she was nervous.

I didn’t fully understand her like how I did with most people at first glance. I could normally read them, but she was different. I was intrigued by this marvelous creature standing before me, and every part of me was screaming, “Talk to her, you fool!” But I couldn’t speak. It was as if my tongue had disappeared, my mouth had gone dry, and my mind had gone blank. I couldn’t think of a witty comment to make, and it was killing me.

After what seemed like years of just staring, I finally managed to say something. “Sounds like a plan, Miss… Uhm. I’m sorry. Your name is?” Her name! I didn’t know her name!
You idiot, what the hell is wrong with you? She told you! She told everyone and you missed it? What the fuck, man?

“Miss Beaumont,” she finished with a smile, and I knew that I was doing something right. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do, and somehow, I was miraculously doing it right.

We left the class and started down the hall towards the grand stairwell in the middle of the school. She noticed where I was heading and mentioned, “Why are we going towards the grand stairwell? Wouldn’t it be easier to go up a side staircase?”

I was prepared for that contingency and promptly responded, “The side stairwells are smaller and create congestion.”

Her facial expression told me everything. She was clearly calling my bullshit, and she was correct. I was spewing straight garbage. I was taking her to the grand stairwell in order to stay with her longer and maybe learn more about her.

I had no choice but to tell her the truth. However, I wouldn’t directly tell her. So I continued, “Also, it allows me more time to get to know you.”

Her mouth opened on a gasp and both eyebrows lifted. “Get to know me?” she asked. “Well, I’m your teacher. I believe you’ll get to know me in that sense.”

I’d known she was going to say that or something similar, but it hurt more than I’d thought it would. I had to recover. Otherwise, any efforts I make in the future could be lost.

“Well of course I need to get to know you. How else would I earn brownie points? I do enjoy brownies.” That was awful.

“Brownie points, huh? I don’t pick favorites, but I have to commend you for the effort. What would you like to know?”

How in the world had that worked?

“Well, first off, I’d like to know how your day is going so far.” Simple and effective. Keep it up, man.

“It’s going quite well for my first day teaching here. I’ve met some very nice people, and I’m excited to continue the rest of my career here,” she answered.

“Oh, you’re a new teacher?”
No, no, no! She just said that, stupid! Stop, stop!
But it was too late. It had already been said. I feared for my life, and I had no clue why. I had nothing to prove to her, so why was I trying so hard? I just didn’t get it.

“Yes, I’m a new teacher here. I actually explained that at the beginning of class. Were you paying attention?”

Shit. She’d caught me. Nothing to do here but redirect.

“In all fairness, do you know my name?” I thought that should work quite well.

“I’m afraid I do not. I have met so many students that I can’t possibly be expected to know your names already, can I?” She was lying. That was visible in her body language and the tone she’d taken to present the common fact.

I was onto something here, but what was it? She was right. She couldn’t possibly be expected to know everyone’s names on her first day, but she clearly recognized me.

“Christopher Wells III. It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Miss Beaumont.”

“Oh, the pleasure is mine.” After saying this, she turned bright red and looked away. Something was up. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I believed it was time to start flirting. That usually got me what I wanted.

“So, Miss Beaumont, are you single? It’s rare to meet a woman so beautiful who is not married or engaged.”
Too strong, Chris. Too strong.

She seemed surprised by my comment though. It’s almost as if she hadn’t been called beautiful in a long time. As if it were a foreign concept she didn’t understand.

              “Beautiful? I would like to remind you, Christopher, that I am your teacher.” Even though she intended to appear strict and formal, she still showed interest that far surpassed that of a normal professional relationship.

             
“I call it like I see it. Either way, my question still stands. Are you single?”

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question for a student to ask their teacher.” She hesitated. “But I am engaged.”

My heart dropped, and I tried to hide it. Luckily for me, we arrived at the grand stairwell at the very moment she finished her sentence, so my reaction went unnoticed. We climbed the stairs and started off towards her next class.

“I’m running out of time and I only managed to ask one question,” I stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

“I suppose I could answer one more question.”

My heart began pounding as my head ran over different questions to ask. I analyzed the information gathered from our conversation to create the perfect, full-proof question.

“Would you be available for after-school tutoring this Friday?” This question seemed to catch her off guard.

“Oh. Well, I’d have to check my schedule, but I believe so.” She had most likely been expecting another personal question, not to be asked for tutoring.

What she didn’t realize was that I was trying to buy myself more time to investigate her. It’s like the ‘genie in the magic lamp’ loophole. You can’t ask for more wishes, so ask for more genies. I applied the same principle. If I couldn’t have more time now, then I’d get more time later.

“Perfect. You can get back to me on Wednesday. In the meantime, here is your class.” We arrived at her class with a minute to spare. “I also took the grand stairwell because room 212 is almost right next to it.” I gave her a devious smile that must’ve gotten to her because it made her shiver. If not out of lust, then out of intrigue. I was hoping it had been out of both. It would make for a much better game to play. “If there’s nothing else, I shall be heading home. Have a nice rest of your day, Miss Beaumont.” I left without giving her a chance to respond.

On my way out of the building, I ran into Devin, who was also heading home. He was delighted to see me, as he always was, and I was delighted to see him. Today had been most interesting, and I wanted to see how his day had gone. However, I never gained that knowledge.

Immediately after noticing me, he asked, “So, Chris, how about that new teacher, huh? I noticed you showing her to her next class.”

I had to be careful on how I answered this question. Not because Devin would go around spreading rumors or gossip, but rather because I’d taught Devin a lot of what I knew. He knew how to spot a lie, how to read a person, and how to manipulate others all due to yours truly. I trusted Devin with my life, but he was just too holy at moments.

After a second of thought, I responded, “She seems very bright, and I’m interested in seeing how her class goes. I think I actually, for once, might learn something here. Or I’ll just end up staring at her ass. Either one works for me.”

He seemed content with that answer, so I left him on it. But he had asked a good question. ‘How about that new teacher?’ How did I feel about her? For the first time ever, I felt uncertain about how someone else affected me. I wasn’t sure if I was okay with this or not, but I didn’t think I had a choice. I was stuck with her both in my class and on my mind.