by Abby Gale
“Mr. Richards?” I hear someone call my name.
“Mr. John,” I say, turning to face him.
When he realizes I’m not walking toward him, he grunts, “A word please.”
I frown but walk away from the car to him so I hear what he may say.
"I see you get along well with Miss Faye," he says. His tone accusing. Glaring at him, I don't answer him. Only wait for him to continue. "I just want to warn you about Miss Faye. You're young and healthy, and I can understand that you may get attracted to her. God knows the girl looks like a woman," he starts, and I fist my hand. He fucking wants her. He's twice as my age, but he fucking wants her. He must sense my growing anger. He clears his throat before continuing, "All I'm saying is, she has quite a reputation around the school. You may want to be careful. It wouldn't be worth the career," he finishes.
The fury boils inside me. I want to punch his fucking face, but I use all my willpower to control myself.
How dare he fucking talk about a student like that? A girl he knows nothing about.
“Mr. John,” I snap and continue, “Let me tell you this, Miss Faye is a very bright young woman who has a bright future awaiting her, hopefully away from this shitty town and its shitty people.” I took a deep breath while glaring at him. “But I recommend you to focus your attention to the students who gave her the said reputation instead of blaming a young woman with other’s accusations,” I grit out and turn my back to see Evangeline.
She’s been watching us. And I can tell she knows we were talking about her.
“Just be careful, young man,” Mr. John says behind me as I walk toward Evangeline. But she doesn’t wait for me to reach her. Instead, she heads for the school with quick steps.
I watch her.
I watch her, and I want to punch everything and everyone who sets eyes on her.
Something inside me aches and gets mad when I see the hurt in her eyes. It's almost visible when she puts up the walls around her. The innocence and young excitement from the morning leave her features, and she accepts the role of the girl everyone thinks she is.
Is it really a bad idea to kiss her in front of everyone and take her away from all this madness?
15
Eva
Whispers are louder today.
Have you seen them?
They came to school together.
I’m sure they already did it.
I don’t understand what guys see in her.
She’s a slut.
I want to see her face when the teacher dearest goes away. Seems like she likes being used.
With every word I hear in the hallway, I walk faster, trying my hardest not to drop my head in shame and hide. I did nothing wrong.
There are some who don't tell me anything bad, some even smile at me politely when I pass them by. But this is high school where you're branded with the people you hang out with. And that's why no one wants to be near me. Who would want to be called ‘that girl's friend'?
“Let’s talk about metaphors, today,” Elijah says to the class. “Writing is about painting a picture in the reader’s mind. We use words to make people see and feel what’s in our mind. And for this, we use metaphors often. Give me a few examples you can think of,” he adds.
I look around. It seems like no one has any idea. Biting my lip, I sit silently just like others.
"No one? Okay, then it seems like today's class will be a short one because I want you to search for examples. Show me you're interested, okay?" Elijah says in an authoritative voice.
"Evangeline, please give us a few examples, so others know what they're looking for," he says, and I look at him with widened eyes.
“Eli- Mr. Richards, I-” I start, but he smiles at me.
“Don’t be shy,” he pushes.
With a sigh, I nod. “Feeling blue can be one of the most commonly used. The sea of grief, waves of pleasure, rollercoaster of emotions, light of life… is that enough?”
His eyes shine brightly with pride, and I can't help but smile at him.
"Very well, Evangeline," he says and turns to others. "Now you know what you're looking for. Don't come to my next class if you won't have some examples in your pocket," he says and dismisses the class.
"Evangeline?" he calls out just when I'm about to leave the classroom like the others. I feel the pressure of judgment in others' gazes, but I force myself to ignore them as I walk toward Elijah's table. He looks like a GQ model as he stands against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Yes, Mr. Richards,” I murmur.
He comes closer to me, the proximity of his body makes my heart beat faster, but I try to refuse the need to take a step back.
"Evangeline, I know you're a good writer, and I know you'll be a great one as the time passes. But I don't want you to keep silent in my class. I know the dynamics in this school sucks, but it doesn't have to be the same in here. When you step into my class, this is your sanctuary, okay?" he says with a voice sweet and intense as hot chocolate.
I feel tears well up in my eyes with his words. My sanctuary. That’s exactly what I need in this school.
“Thank you, Mr. Richards” I whisper.
He touches my chin and lifts my head up to look at him. I'm so stunned by his unexpected touch, I look at him like a deer in headlights. He's so close. So close his air is mine.
"I know writing is your passion, Evangeline. I can see it in your eyes. Don't let others take that away from you. And believe me, this will pass. Once it does, you'll have everything you dream of," he tells me. His lips touch mine while he talks like a ghost of a caress. His hands move on my arms until he rests them on my waist. My breasts rubbed against his hard chest, and my knees almost buckle. He chuckles softly, and his lips press against mine for a short second. I can't even decide if it really happened or just my imagination. He smirks when I let out a mewl like sound before adding, "And it's Elijah."
Oh, my heart. Just get a grip.
I lick my lips like I can taste him. He moves his nose on my jaw as I bite my lip.
Is it a fucking dream?
It can’t be real.
"Let's go home," he whispers, and I nod, trying to suppress my smile. But I can't stop the gasp that escapes from my mouth when he rests his hand on my back and pulls me to his side as we walk out of the classroom. The skin under his hand tingles, I feel the warmth of his touch radiate from that small space to all over my body. He doesn't take his hand away until we reach his truck. When we do, he opens my door, and I have to beg my heart to slow down a little.
I've read about ‘butterflies in the stomach,' but the way my heart beats can't be caused by butterflies. It feels bigger, stronger. Like my heart will escape from my chest. It's kind of scary actually, but also addictive as the excitement blossoms inside me.
On the ride home, the music from the radio is filling the space even though I don’t listen to it. All I keep telling myself to get a grip and not make my crush on him worse.
“Do you like pasta?” he asks out of the blue.
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugs. "Because that's pretty much all I can cook. But I make a killer sauce."
I giggle. “Okay,” I drag out the word, hoping he’ll explain why we’re talking about his cooking abilities or lack of.
“What’s your choice of drink?”
“Iced tea,” I answer his twenty-one questions.
He nods. When we enter the garden of my house, he turns to look at me. “Do you like hot chocolate?”
“Yes?”
“Good. Go and get ready. I’ll be cooking the best pasta you’ve ever tasted,” he says, and I just stare at him.
He laughs. “Go.”
With a big smile, I can't erase, I run to my room. Calling out "Hey, Jessica. It's nice to see you. Say hi to Stacey," as I pass her.
After taking a quick shower, I take extra time to get ready. Instead of my usual choice of sweatpants, I opt for yoga pants and another loose neck t-shirt. The memory of his slo
w and seductive touch from our first and only dinner together sends a shiver down my spine.
I don't want to get ideas, but I can't help but feel like this is a date. My first date with the first guy I'm really attracted to.
16
Elijah
This isn't a date.
This isn't a date.
Dammit, Elijah. This isn't a date.
I groan and finally say, "Fuck everything. Whatever happens, I won't fucking stop."
I place our plates on the coffee table. The roses are probably too much, but I'm tired of changing my mind about keeping or leaving them for the last fifteen minutes. I'm not a guy who dates, I'm not really opposed to the idea, but I've never met someone who could get my attention more than one night. My relationships were purely sexual all these years. Whenever I try my chance at dating, I felt a lack of connection. Maybe it's a kind of job hazard; being a writer makes me dig deeper, search for more than a physical attraction, even though I gladly accepted the call of lust at every chance I get. But all those one night stands didn't feed my soul. I've kept looking for something more even though I didn't know it. Until Evangeline. I've never experienced the kind of connection, the type of bond I feel with her. And look at me now, I'm preparing dinner and putting roses everywhere for a schoolgirl.
A schoolgirl who makes me lose my mind even without trying.
Just when I think about calling her, I hear the soft knock on the door. I check myself in the mirror next to the door for the last time before I open it to greet her.
Fuck.
She's stunning.
Her hair is in some kind of messy braid that leaves her face open. Every perfect detail about her features is in front of my eyes. She's make-up free, but today there's something different in her lashes that makes them even longer and curvy. That one difference makes her eyes more beguiling. They look even sexier and more seductive as she looks at me shyly. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with a relaxed neck. The material reveals her shoulder and her delicate neck, making me crazy with the need to put my lips on her skin, tasting her where her scent is the most prominent. Instead of sweatpants, she's wearing black yoga pants. The fabric hugs her curves, accentuates her shapely legs like fucking torture. And even the damn sneakers she's wearing makes her more appealing in my eyes it's getting ridiculous.
“Will you let me get in?” she says, interrupting my eye-fuck session. Her voice is playful, but I can see her blushing at my attention.
“Hi,” I say like a fool.
“Hey,” she whispers.
Jesus. Her breathy voice will be the death of me.
She stands in the entrance, waiting for me to lead the way. It's cute, for her to act like this is my place.
“I thought we can eat while watching a movie,” I say, but suddenly feel unsure about my decision.
She gives me relief with her answer, “Sounds great.”
We sit on the couch in front of the television. After choosing a random movie from Netflix, we grab our plates. I'm nervous as a high school boy with a crush, but I'm not really much different. I definitely have a huge crush on Evangeline Faye.
I watch her as she takes the first taste of her spaghetti. She closes her eyes and lets out a sound so close to moan. The way her tongue licks the remnants of the sauce, the maddening moans of pleasure escapes from her throat is overly arousing. It's a different level of porn.
Damn this girl.
She's too sexy for her own good, and she doesn't even try to be which makes her even hotter.
I swallow. Truly turned on.
“You weren't overrating when you said this would be the best pasta I'd ever taste. It's so delicious,” she says, resuming eating.
I grin like she's given me a trophy before busy myself with my own plate. Cause God knows I’ll jump straight to dessert if I keep watching her eat.
“Which college do you want to go, Evangeline?” I ask her when we finish our plates.
“I want to study in Seattle. So either University of Washington or Seattle University, I haven't decided yet.”
Having her in Seattle, so close to me… fuck, maybe even in my apartment… I can almost see how our days would play out. And mostly, how our nights would be full of pleasure.
Clearing my throat, I push my impure thoughts away. “Whichever you choose, you'll do great.”
“Thanks,” she mutters.
“Do you have any idea what kind of stories you'll write?”
After taking a sip from her iced tea, she starts talking with light in her eyes.
“I'd probably write women’s fiction. I'm not really a funny person. I don't think I can write romcoms or that sort of stories. I love stories that are heavy with emotions. Melancholic. Maybe even depressing. I mean, I know you must think I'm a freak, but those emotions are real. Everyone feels them at a part of their lives if not daily. Those are the feelings people are afraid to open up. If I can touch someone with my words, if I can show them there is hope even in the darkest places, I think I'll make my dream come true.”
Her voice is passionate and hopeful as she utters these words. I can listen to her talk about her passion and her dreams all day, all night, preferably while we’re naked and sweaty and my cum is dripping out of her.
I don't know when we moved, but when we hear the knock on the door, we both realize we're so much closer than we should. Her breathing is slightly faster. Her lips are begging to be kissed, and I don't remember a time when I want someone as much as I want her. With another knock, I curse.
“You’re dangerous,” I breath out and force myself to go open the door.
Evangeline’s driver is waiting outside.
“Hello, Mr. Richards,” he says.
Evangeline comes behind me. “Hi, Jack.”
"Hello, Miss Faye. I wanted to ask if you'd like me to make the trip alone tonight."
I turn to Evangeline. “Where do you go every night?”
She looks between her driver and me before smiling at me.
“Wanna come with me?”
Oh how I want to come with you, Evangeline, I think in my perverted mind.
“Lead the way,” I smirk and watch her bouncy steps as she walks ahead of me.
God. What a view.
I drive through the town, heading for the west while following Jake for direction. As time passes, the big houses and perfectly decorated gardens stay behind us. In this part of the town, the houses are old, the color on their walls have peeled with time. Some of the buildings have gardens, but they are as unattended as the buildings. When I look at life from this side of the town, the grass is definitely greener at the east side.
I frown as we keep navigating through the streets in this neighborhood. I can't find a reason why Evangeline would come to this part of town every night.
We finally stop in front of a building, but nothing around here answers my questions. There are a few shops and a bar around here, but everything about the place is shady. Not somewhere I ever think I’d see Evangeline at.
"Why are we here?" I ask her.
She opens the door to get out of the car and smiles at me over her shoulder, “You’ll see. Come on.”
I walk along with her as she heads to the building.
“Eva, hi!” someone calls out for her the moment we step inside.
“Hey, Manny,” she waves to the young kid.
I frown and try to understand as we walk deeper into the building. There are beds in one big salon-like room. It looks like a dormitory. When we enter another room, it's smaller than the previous one, and there are tables placed around the room. If the big salon is a dormitory, this one is the cafeteria.
I see Jake is carrying some boxes to the cafeteria and a few other people help him to set them on the big table.
Evangeline walks fast to help them, and she starts handing out the packages. I notice they are meals when someone I pass by starts to eat from his container. I stop next to Evangeline, helping her hand out the packages. There're close to
fifty people in here, and she seems to know each one of them.
“Is it where you come every night?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Are you a volunteer in here?” I ask, looking around for any sign of a charity.
“She’s our little angel. She put a roof over our heads,” an old woman who comes to take a box answers for Evangeline.
"How are your knees, Samantha? Do you want me to send the doctor again?" Eva asks her.
“Oh, no need dear. My knees are better. I don’t have as much pain as before,” Samantha answers. She looks me up and down and adds with a smile, “I’m glad you finally brought someone with you. Don’t hurt her, young man.”
“Sammy, he’s not-” Evangeline starts, but I cut her off, “I won’t.”
The old woman walks away with a wave, and I wink at Eva. The blush on her cheeks is adorable. As we keep handing out the boxes, I see Jack is still carrying bags and boxes with him.
“What’s he doing?” I ask Eva.
“Nothing. Just filling up the cabinets in the kitchen and restocking their supplies.”
“You do that every day?” I ask. My voice is husky with admiration for this girl.
She nods. “Seventy people live in here,” she explains.
“Is this some kind of charity? Like something your parents founded?”
“Well, their platinum credit card definitely helps a lot,” she says. “We call this place The Sanctuary.”
She’s doing it all by herself. Can she be any more perfect?
“How did you - when did this start?”
After she hands out the last box, she sits on a chair, and I take a seat next to her.
"Two years ago, I went to visit my parents at work. They were in a meeting, so I had to leave. The traffic was so congested, and I really didn't feel like being stuck in there all day, so I got out of the car and started walking the streets. It started to rain, and I'll admit, I was scared when I found myself here. I'd never been in this part of town or to this place before. All kind of scenarios from movies I watched played on my mind. But instead, these people shared their space with me, so I stayed out of the rain. They offered their meal. I've never been shown that kind of kindness before."
