I frowned. “What about Ash and Angelo?” I said, referring to my oldest brother and his kid. I didn’t bother to mention my younger brother and sister, since he hadn’t wanted to adopt the twins, my mother having pushed him into it.
“Ash hates me,” he said.
“No, he doesn’t, and if you tried harder to see him—”
“I have tried hard, but he won’t forgive me.” He dropped his gaze, the shame of what he’d done written all over his face. He’d knocked my brother around while under the influence of meth, something he constantly tortured himself over. “And I don’t blame him after what I put him through.”
“But, you’re not the same person now. You got clean for us.”
“That doesn’t erase what I did.”
“But—”
“Enough with the buts, the damage is done, and cos of it, Ash is refusing to lemme see Angelo.”
“He can’t do that, Angelo’s your grandchild.”
“He can and I don’t wanna push him,” he said, his face laden with emotion. It shifted between sadness and remorse as well as a deep-seated longing. It was no secret that he wanted to win back Ash’s love, but he also knew he would never get it. My brother held grudges in a major way, the type that he would take to his grave.
My dad grabbed the motorbike helmets by the front door, handing me one. “Let’s go sort this shit out with the principal, then you can sleep the rest of the day without me givin’ you anymore grief.”
I nodded and headed out of the house with him, grateful he was by my side.
12
CLARA
Dante received a five-day suspension, the disciplinary action done without my involvement. And when he returned the following week, he didn’t come to my class. After the third day of him not showing, I started wondering whether he’d been moved to a different class due to the incident. I eventually asked the other Year Eleven English teacher, who shook his head, saying no. As a result, I passed on the information to the principal. Principal Sao appeared surprised, stating that Dante had been showing up religiously to all his other classes. It upset me, making me wonder why he wouldn’t come to mine, which in turn made me think he was blaming me for his suspension. So, when he walked past me while I was monitoring lunchtime, as though I didn’t exist, I decided to deal with his truancy right there and then.
“Dante!”
He stopped halfway across the grass patch and looked back at me, those intense eyes of his locking onto mine. He looked nothing like the upset, drunk boy who’d run from me the prior week. Instead, he looked completely in control now, his arrogant expression almost disconcerting, making me wonder whether he remembered kissing me.
His top lip curled up with amusement, drawing my attention to his mouth. The memory of his lips against mine returned, of the almost hungry way he’d kissed me. He hadn’t cared about the consequences as he’d pushed his tongue inside my mouth, his drunken state of mind more concerned with taking what he wanted. Since that day, I had to keep reminding myself that I hadn’t done anything wrong, that he’d kissed me, not the other way round. But for some reason I felt guilty, which I didn’t understand, especially since I’d pushed him away. Maybe it was because every time I looked at him I felt something I shouldn’t. Something illegal.
“What?” he asked, probably wondering why I wasn’t saying anything.
I cleared my throat, pulling myself together, disturbed by the direction of my thoughts. I let a blank expression fall over my face, not wanting him to see how much he was affecting me—especially after that kiss. And the strange thing was, I hadn’t even registered much about the kiss at the time, the shock numbing my initial reaction. But a little more about it resurfaced each day, details I hadn’t noticed before, a delayed reaction I wished I could pour cold water over.
“Why aren’t you coming to my class?” I asked, making sure my voice sounded unaffected, almost disinterested, the opposite of what I was really feeling. “I’ve been told that you’re attending all your other classes.”
His smile grew. “You missed me?”
“Don’t make this personal; I’m just doing my job.”
“Is that so?” He turned around fully and headed for me, his walk almost a saunter. It made me think of a male stripper strutting his stuff on stage. It didn’t help that he looked so good. A few of his shirt buttons were left undone, actually, most of them were, only the middle ones holding the grey material together, allowing me to catch glimpses of his tanned, muscular torso. He also had his sleeves rolled up, highlighting his defined biceps. Again, I had to remind myself he was fifteen and not the newest member of Thunder From Down Under, which I quickly admonished myself for thinking, the thought grossly inappropriate.
He stopped in front of me. “How’d you know I’ve been goin’ to my other classes? You been stalking me?”
“No, the principal told me—”
“Did you rat me out again?” he snapped, his smile disappearing.
“Teachers don’t rat students out. We’re the authority here. And since you didn’t come to my class, I thought you might’ve been moved to Mr. Steiner’s class, which was why I checked.”
“Why bother? Most of my teachers are happy when I don’t show.”
“I’m not most teachers.”
His gaze lowered down me. “You sure got that right.”
My face heated at his stare. “Just stop skipping my class.”
“No can do, it’s my free period.”
“I told you, Dante, it’s not a free period,” I said, now cross with him.
“Just cos you say it isn’t doesn’t mean it’s true.”
I blew out a frustrated sigh. “I think you’re making things up because you have some sort of issue with me.”
He grinned. “And why do you think that, miss?”
“Because it’s only my class you don’t show for. You’re even going to Mr. Aston’s class and he hurt you, whereas all I did was try to help you.”
“That prick isn’t teaching me anymore. My father got me changed to Old Mother Hubbard’s class after Principal Sao let slip ’bout Arse Face slamming me into the locker. He probably thought I remembered, but I had no clue.”
“Do you remember anything?” I asked, hoping he’d forgotten about kissing me.
“Nope. Not a thing.”
I breathed out, beyond relieved. “Just be nice to Ms. Torino,” I said, hoping he wasn’t the one causing Beverly to look so depressed. The poor woman wasn’t her normal lively self. I’d assumed it was to do with what she’d done at the pub, but now knowing Dante was in her class, it was hard not to wonder whether he was being mean to her. “And don’t call her names.”
“Whatever you say, teach.” He went to leave.
I grabbed his arm to stop him from going, wanting him to answer my original question. Not saying a word, he looked down at my hand.
I whipped it away. “Just tell me why you’re not coming to my class?”
He looked up at me, his eyes locking onto mine without blinking. “You’re too distracting.”
I held his gaze. “In what way?”
“Look in the mirror, that’ll answer your question.” Again, he went to leave.
I grabbed his wrist. “I’m not finished with you yet,” I said, feeling a mixture of pleasure and guilt that he found me attractive.
His gaze dropped to my hand again.
I didn’t let go straight away this time. “Just turn up to my class, okay?” I said, loosening my grip, my fingers falling away from his wrist. “I don’t want to be the reason you fail English.”
He raised his gaze, his expression perplexed. “I wuz gonna fail it with or without your help, so what’s the point?”
“The point is you have to attend my class. If you don’t, you could get your father into trouble. You do realise truancy is an illegal offence that could have repercussions for him?”
He rolled his eyes. “My dad’s been in prison for assault, so I don’t think he’
ll quake in his boots if you whine ’bout me skipping your class.”
“He could get fined a lot of money.”
His face hardened. “You rich arseholes love taking poor people’s money, don’t cha?”
I shook my head, his angry reaction catching me off guard. “It’s not like that, it’s the law. I didn’t make it.”
He pointed a finger at my face. “Then keep your mouth shut and mark me off the roll whether I’m there or not.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can if you value your safety.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Are you threatening me?”
“Nope, I’m just warning you that my father isn’t as nice to pretty ladies as I am, especially when it involves him losing money.”
“He won’t need to be involved if you turn up to class. Please, just come for me.”
His lips twitched, a slight grin replacing his scowl. “I’d love to come for you.” He ran a hand over his crotch. “Just say when and where and my dick’ll be there.”
“Stop that!” I glanced around, worried that people would get the wrong idea about our interaction. Although he was the one flirting, I didn’t want anyone thinking I was reciprocating. But I needn’t have worried. With the exception of two girls, who were more interested in staring at Dante’s face like love sick puppies, no one was paying us any heed.
“Stop what, Clara?” he smirked, knowing damn well what he was doing.
“Flirting and touching yourself, and please address me as Mrs. Hatton or miss.”
He leaned his head down to my level. “Only if you stop eye-fucking me.”
I went rigid. “I’m not eye-fu—” I stopped myself just in time, my mouth catching up with my brain. “I’m doing no such thing,” I snapped.
“Liar,” he said, overemphasising the word. “You looked at me on the first day of school like you’d just come in your knickers. You did the same today when I walked towards you. You were staring at my body just as much as I wuz staring at yours.”
“I was not!” I spluttered, horrified he’d noticed. “And you should do up your shirt.” I waved a hand at it. “It’s inappropriate to walk around school like that. I can’t imagine other teachers letting you get away with it.”
“They don’t, but it’s the first time you mentioned it and only cos you’re tryna one-up me.” He licked a finger and ran it between his shirt. “You love staring at my body, don’t cha?” His smiled turned wicked. “I bet your panties are sopping wet right now.”
I took a step back. “You can’t speak to me like that, I’m a teacher.”
He shook his head slowly. “You’re not a teacher to me; you’re just a hot chick I want to fuck.” His gaze dropped to my breasts. “And by the look of your nipples, you want me to fuck you hard.”
I quickly crossed my arms over my chest, totally in shock, not knowing whether to yell at him or run in horror.
He reached out to touch me, making me jump back, snapping me out of my stunned state. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He held up his hands. “Obviously sumpthin’ you can’t admit to wanting, so I’ll go take these fingers,” he wriggled them, “and make some other chick happy.” He spun around and walked off, making a beeline for the two girls who’d been openly staring at him, the boy not missing a thing. It was as though he could smell their desires—like he could smell mine, our female pheromones filling the air, the pollen calling the bee to our flowers. Corny, yeah, but unfortunately true.
He came to a stop in front of the girls. They practically leapt off the ground to greet him, acting as though he was a Hollywood star, their reaction probably adding to his overly inflated ego. He glanced over his shoulder at me, giving me a taunting ‘told you so’ grin.
Regretting confronting him, I scurried off, chastising myself for taking his bait. I knew what he was like, yet I kept letting him pull me into uncomfortable conversations I couldn’t handle. I should’ve shut him down straight away, treating him like any other student. But that was the problem ... he wasn’t like any other student, because if he were, I wouldn’t be reacting in such an unethical manner.
I entered the school’s main building, quickly heading for the restroom closest to my class. I pushed through the doorway and went to the sink, splashing water on my face to cool down my burning cheeks. Once done, I patted myself dry with a tissue, then applied a fresh layer of lipstick, taking a bit longer than usual, my hands shaking from the interaction with Dante. I started running through some Shakespearean lines, bombarding my mind so I didn’t think about him. The bell went off, cutting those lines short.
Needing to relieve myself before class, I quickly popped my lipstick back into my bag and headed for a toilet, doing my business. After cleaning my hands, I left the restroom, stopping in my tracks at what I saw down the corridor. It was empty, except for two people: Dante and the prettier of the girls who’d been staring at him. He glanced up and down the corridor, his gaze landing on me. Even from a distance, I could tell he was smiling. Then he was directing the girl through a doorway, the two disappearing from sight.
Aware it was a boys’ restroom, I hurried towards it, intent on putting a stop to whatever the two had planned, knowing it was probably sexual in nature. Once I reached the door, I hesitated, the thought of what I was about to see not something I wanted to be anywhere near. But, I was a teacher and they were students, who shouldn’t be doing anything inappropriate on school grounds—or in Dante’s case, not at all, because the girl was definitely a senior.
I pushed open the door slowly, careful not to make a sound, conscious that Dante could be playing a practical joke on me. I wouldn’t put it past him, especially with the way he’d smiled at me before entering the restroom.
I peeked in, not spotting a thing, other than a row of urinals. A door banged, pulling my attention to the stalls, which were all facing away from me. I slipped inside and peered around the corner of the first stall. Still not seeing anyone, I moved forward cautiously, realising they must be in one of them, doing God only knew what.
Masculine moans started up, coming from a stall on my right. The door was closed, the moans emanating from behind it. I dropped my gaze to the bottom of the stall, where there was a gap between the floor and the door, the girl’s sandals visible. She was kneeling in front of... I looked up as Dante straightened to his full height, the door stopping just below his eyes. They were filled with pleasure, his moans resonating throughout the room. I didn’t even have to imagine what was happening behind the door, because I was already picturing the girl blowing him. It made me want to run, but I couldn’t move, Dante’s gaze paralysing me.
“God, you’re amazing,” he growled low. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”
It felt like he was talking to me, my presence getting him off as much as the girl sucking on his cock behind the door. All thought of stopping him flew out of my mind, the sounds he was making lighting me up, making me want to be the one pleasuring him. And those eyes, they kept watching me, as though he was imagining my lips wrapped around his—
Things amped up, his moans turning into pants. His eyes closed, suggesting he was close to coming, then the loudest, most sexual groan I’d ever heard filled the room, making me gasp.
His eyes shot open at the sound, his intense gaze once again locking onto mine. Even though I couldn’t see his mouth, I knew he was smiling, the creases around his eyes indicating it. “Did’ja like that?” he asked.
“Fuck, yes,” the girl answered, although I knew the question was for me.
I took off, bursting through the exit, horrified that my answer was the same.
***
I ran back to the girls’ restroom, splashing my face with more cold water, my hands shaking badly, what I’d done wrong on so many levels. I had fully intended on stopping him, knowing damn well he was going to have sex in some way with the girl, but his stare had frozen me, destroying my morals, the boy pure temptation. When he’d seen me in the corrido
r, he’d basically dared me to follow, and I’d walked straight into his trap.
After calming myself down, I went to my class, apologising to the students for being late, cursing Murphy’s Law that it was the juvie one. I headed for the whiteboard, purposely keeping my eyes away from Dante, who was already in his seat, looking smug. I clenched my hands, regretting talking him into coming back.
He called out, “Why are you late, Mrs. Hatton?”
Ignoring his question, I started writing some Animal Farm quotes on the board, hoping like hell he didn’t mention what I’d done, the boy having no filter.
“You didn’t answer me,” he called out again.
“It’s none of your business why I’m late, Dante,” I said, not turning around.
“Are you sure ’bout that?”
“Positive.”
“’Kay, whatever you say, Mrs. Hatton.”
I tensed, the emphasis on my title making me feel like I’d cheated on my husband ... although I hadn’t, which I needed to remind myself of. All I’d done was freeze in the moment, not participated in it.
Dante piped up again. “By the way, Mrs. Hatton, can you answer a sex ed question for me?”
“No,” I gritted out.
“But I needa know how babies are made. Jasper told me I could get a girl pregnant if she swallows.”
The class erupted with laughter, Jasper spluttering he didn’t say that.
I slammed the marker down and spun around, levelling Dante with a glare. “If you say one more word you’re out of here.”
Smirking at me, he zipped his mouth. Thankfully, he kept quiet for the remainder of the lesson. Regardless, I couldn’t help stealing glances at him, concerned he was running his mouth off to his best friend about what I’d done. But instead of whispering to Jasper, he was staring at me.
Every.
Single.
Time.
When the bell rang, I called out, “Dante, stay back, I need to talk to you about some homework,” I lied, wanting to make him understand that what had happened meant nothing to me—another lie.
Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) Page 11
