“Not gossiping. Are we girls?” Mr. Corryn’s voice was like the sound of angel’s wings
“Nno…. We were just talking about tonight’s homework,” I lied inconvincibly. Embarrassed with my foolish misrepresentment, my skin exchanged its ivory pigment for a much brighter shade of scarlet.
“Laidyn, why are you so red?” Deena whispered as she examined her high- maintenance –self in her compact.
“Oh, no reason….” The nasal buzz of the school bell dismissed students to their lives away from school. Mr. Corryn’s deep voice called me to his desk, cluttered with ungraded papers.
“Laidyn, your grade average isn’t what it should be. Why don’t you stay after school tomorrow for some practice?”
“Um, that’d be fine. I’d love to, Mr. Corryn.” I flashed him a flirty grin. I don’t know where my sudden burst of confidence came from, but it was definitely helping in this situation.
“Please, it’s Andy after school hours,” he mimicked my expression, and with that I made my way out the room and into my VW Bug.
On my drive home, I contemplated my peculiar conversation with Mr. Corryn- Andy. I knew that I didn’t have an “A” in his class, but a high “B” wasn’t entirely dreadful. Maybe he had another incentive for suggesting that I stay after tomorrow….
Sixth period Chemistry seemed to drag on as the minute hand creeped slowly towards the next hour. I couldn’t explain it, but for some strange reason, I was glad to stay after, nervous nonetheless, but I was contented.
The bell rang at last- time for Pre- Calculus. All through class, he and I were playing “eye tag.” It was nearly impossible for me to concentrate on doing my work when I was completely aware that his profoundly shadowed brown eyes were staring at me.
“You’re staying after, right?” His deep tenor voice whispered faintly in my ear.
“Of course, but only if you want me to,” I smiled, knowing that I was being mischievous.
“It is strictly your decision to make,” a quick smile and he was off to make rounds, circling the room of aggravated and confused teenagers. At the nasal drone of the school bell, the impatient students quickly swept up their belongings and rushed out the door with weekend excitement.
When the room was barren of all young scholars, I gradually made my way to Mr. Corryn’s desk. I felt as though I was completely oblivious to what the immediate future held. I thought for sure that my presence here was not about expanding my knowledge of mathematics.
He sauntered toward me from behind at what seemed to be a snail’s pace. I listened intently to the light fall of his foot steps, not knowing what to expect.
“Mr. Corryn-,” I began.
“Shhhhh,” he silenced me as he pressed his finger against my lips. “It’s Andy after school hours. Remember?”
“This isn’t about math, is it?” I said in a hushed voice.
“No,” he whispered as he turned me around.
His smooth lips gently touched my as he embraced me with his muscular arms. He seemed hesitant as he held me to him, as though he wasn’t entirely sure that he should be there with me. I was astounded in my reaction to his embrace. I pulled him closer to me eager to have him to myself. For a split second, however, I questioned my sanity. Why had I jumped so willing into this relationship with my teacher? Surely it wasn’t too horrible. He was only 12 years older than my 17. In the few moments that I spent with him, however, I felt like he honestly and truly cared about me immensely.
But maybe if it were college teacher/student instead of high school, where it's considered a felony to have an affair with a minor, you'd get a better response. 
