Teacher's Pet - The Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Avery Phillips

  “The only problem you have,” he said as he kissed me on the waist, “is in a minute, I’ll be set for another round.”

  “No, no, no.” I got up to look for my panties. “You have to go. My roommate will be back any minute.”

  “I won’t and she won’t.”

  “You have to, Simon. Please.” I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

  “Oh, I see. This has nothing to do with your roommate, does it? Poor little kitty cat is afraid of her feelings?”

  “Well, that’s not offensive,” I snapped at him sarcastically.

  “I’m not trying to be offensive, Lynn. All I’m saying is you’re making it damn near impossible for me to get to know you. You have been a worrywart this whole time about my intentions and how I feel. Well, it seems that it’s really you who’s unwilling to share anything you're feeling or thinking. You are the one who brought me here, Lynora. I came along for the ride, no questions asked. I was sure that would prove something to you and quell your worries and insecurities, but somehow my being here has made them even worse. It makes me wonder if you’re doing this on purpose, like it’s some sort of defense mechanism.”

  “I wasn’t aware you taught psychology, professor. You’re every bit as talented as I’ve heard you were,” I quipped snidely.

  The glare he gave me was deadly. “Okay, this is getting out of hand. I think we should call it a night.”

  “I think that’s what’s best. And perhaps, from now on, you should treat me like any other student. That way you don’t have to worry about trying to get to know me and giving me special treatment because you fucked me.”

  That was it. I knew it was a mistake as soon as the words flew out of my mouth. It was reckless—surprising to me, but much more surprising to him. Simon didn’t say another word; he just gathered his stuff off the floor of my room and readied himself to leave. I didn’t want to see him walk away from me. The tug was still there, and from the vibe that I got, that could be the last time our lips would ever touch.

  There was only so much rejection a man could take before he gave up for the sake of his ego. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t, but I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I mean, he should, but—I don’t know, I’m not the easiest girl to get to get along with. I knew this to be true, especially on emotional levels.

  Simon hastily got dressed in the dark. He had on his pants, his shirt and his socks, but he held his boots and belt in his hands. He opened the door, left and slammed it behind him. I felt the window of hope closing as well.

  My phone rang, distracting me. I reached to retrieve it off my dresser, looked at the number and saw it was my mom. This made the sixth call in a day. I didn’t want to talk to her. I couldn’t manage it. Not now. All I wanted to do was crawl under my sheets, fold myself into a ball and pull the covers over my head. I wanted to tune out the world for maybe a month.

  I hated that I smelled him on my skin. I hated that I smelled him in my room. I hated that I didn’t have Simon lying in my arms. I needed to take a shower, as I normally would before bed. But, instead, I pulled the sheets back off my bed, shoved my feet in between them and brought them to my shoulders and eventually over my head. I turned my body to face the wall, and it was the last thing I remembered besides tears falling down on my pillow.

  Lesson # 8

  To judge is to be judged

  “I created divisiveness between us. That way, I knew and understood where it came from.” -Sonja Petrovic

  I woke up confused, but glaring light forced me to shut my eyes again. I brought up my arms and wrapped them tightly around my face, shielding my eyes from the brightness. “Turn it off,” I groaned. “Turn off the light.” To my relief, I heard a click above my head. I opened my eyes again, but took caution this time. There were little flash bulbs exploding brilliantly in the room.

  “Are you awake?” Sonja’s voice rang through my mental fog.

  “Yes, I’m awake! Are you crazy?” Sonja loomed over me with her breasts in my face. They were naked and swinging back and forth. “Can you please put some clothes on? Sheesh, that’s so disgusting! Why do you insist on walking around like you’re in a nudist camp?”

  “You Americans.” She shook her head. “You’re so prude.” Sonja was a tall, slim and well-endowed Serbian girl with long, flaxen hair. She had little to no inhibitions, and I hated that she was my roommate. She walked across the room and picked up a shirt hanging over the foot of her bed. She poked her head through it and pulled it down over her body. The shirt stopped just short of her hips.

  “Why did you wake me up?” I reached over my head and switched my reading light back on, now that my eyesight had adjusted.

  “You were talking in your sleep.” Sonja sat on the edge of her bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. She had no clothes on from the hips down. I guessed she was trying to spare me the show, but at this point I’d already had an eyeful. “I couldn’t sleep with all the noise you were making.”

  “Oh.” I felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.” She laid down on her side and rubbed her weary eyes. “I have a test tomorrow.”

  I yawned with my hand over my mouth. “So, you do study, after all.”

  “Yes, I am a very good student, but now that I’m awake you should tell me what you were dreaming about. Maybe it will put me back to sleep.” She smiled.

  “Oh my goodness, you have a sense of humor, too? The revelations tonight are endless.”

  “Sarcasm is the tool of a weak-minded person, and from what I’ve observed, you’re not weak-minded. So, if you want to tell me about the dream, I’d like to hear it, but if not, you can help me study for my test in return for disturbing my much-needed sleep.”

  I did not want to help her study. Sonja fluffed her pillow, smiling from ear to ear like she’d tipped over my queen on a chessboard. I found it insulting, but perhaps it was accurate. I was willing to admit that, because the desire to fight with her was no longer in me.

  “The dream was nothing.” I sat up in bed and pulled my sheets up to my neck. I had no idea how she handled walking around the room without any clothes. It was freezing in there. “I think I’m just stressed, and it’s manifesting itself in my subconscious or something.”

  “If that’s what stress sounds like, then stress is exactly what I need.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You were moaning in your sleep. A lot. You were tossing and turning, but not like you were having a nightmare. It was like you were having a… how should I say this? A very pleasurable experience.”

  A rush of embarrassment reddened my face. It was hard for me to hide it with the reading light trained on me. Sonja watched my reaction like a hawk, and then grinned when she realized she was right.

  “I’m guessing this ‘stress’ has to do with a boy.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Is he a student here?”

  “No.” I hesitated. “He’s employed with the university.”

  “Oh.” After a few seconds, she said, “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” My head bowed. “But, it’s over now.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know you had such courage, Lynora. You always struck me as the good-girl type.”

  “Neither did I, and I’m far from a good girl. Anyway, can we not talk about this? I’m starting to feel nauseous. I think I’d rather help you study… if you want. I don’t have anything pressing, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “You would do that?”

  “Sure, why not? You’re my roommate, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Today, I feel like I am.”

  We studied feverishly until the light of the sun peeked through the blinds like a curious neighbor. Sonja had a test in U.S. History, so it was mostly dates and events she had to commit to memory. I helped her prepare by running through some flashcards, holding them up until she knew them without fail. It felt good b
onding with her. It was a shame that it had taken almost a year for it to happen, but better late than never, as the saying goes.

  Sonja turned to me as if she had something to say. She was fidgeting with her hands, and creases had formed in her forehead. I could tell she was going through bouts of wanting to speak her mind and keeping her thoughts to herself. I decided to make it less awkward for her. “What’s going on, Sonja?”

  “Um, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Sonja sat on the bed next to me. “I feel like you have some misconceptions about me, and I wanted to clear them up.”

  “Okay.” I pulled my legs up on the bed and tucked them under me. I felt a tinge of soreness in my thighs. “What is it?”

  “I wanted to let you know that I’m not what you think I am.”

  “I think you’re a student. Are you telling me that you’re not?”

  “No, what I’m saying is I’m not a slut. I’m not promiscuous, a whore, a hooker or anything like that. That isn’t me. I know I’ve led you to believe that I was, so I don’t blame you for thinking that, but none of those perceptions are true.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “You know all those nights I spent out?”

  I nodded.

  “I was at the library studying. I do it a lot. I like the peace and quiet. And I always had the feeling you didn’t want me here. I tried petitioning to be assigned to another room, but I couldn’t—it didn’t do any good—so I stayed out as long as I could and only came back here to sleep if I had to.”

  “Gosh. I’m sorry, Sonja. I had no idea I made you feel that way, but what about what I saw… the boys I’ve seen you with.”

  “One boy.”

  “One naked boy.”

  “He was my boyfriend at the time. The only boyfriend I’ve had since I’ve been in the States, and only the second sex partner that I’ve ever had.” She sounded so sincere that I had to believe her.

  “Oh, well that is a revelation, isn’t it?”

  “I wanted you to believe what you did because it was easier to have you dislike me for that reason than have you dislike me for no reason at all. So I created divisiveness between us. That way I knew and understood where it came from.”

  I dropped my head in shame. “I’m so sorry; that was my fault. I didn’t know what to make of you, either. When I moved in and I saw how stunningly beautiful you were, I guess I assumed you were a dummy. I thought you couldn’t possibly be intelligent as well as that good looking. So maybe I was a little jealous. I apologize.”

  We both smiled. Sonja reached over and hugged me like a bear. I accepted all she could give and gave a lot of it back. It felt good.

  “I have a question for you,” she whispered in my ear. “Do you care about this man that gives dreams?”

  I stayed silent to that question, because I didn’t want to admit it.

  “Do you think he is someone you could fall in love with someday?”

  It was a legitimate question. Could I love Simon? The experiences with him had been so fast-paced I could hardly catch my breath or gather my thoughts together. Did I even know what love meant, since I’d never felt it before? I just knew what I felt whenever he was near me.

  “I don’t know,” I responded. “I hadn’t had time to think about it.”

  Visions of Simon started passing through my mind like slides passing through a projector. Frame by frame, at leisurely speeds, they passed just slow enough to make me wet with thoughts of seeing him again.

  It had all been so surreal for me. A man like Simon never looked in my direction, let alone wanted me the way that he did. So the question posed to me by Sonja was did I want him, and the answer had to be: “Yes, I know I do.”

  “Well, then I guess we have work to do, don’t we?” Sonja said. “Time waits for no man or woman.”

  Sonja offered to help me get dressed and curl my hair, so I borrowed a few of her things. Well, the real truth is I borrowed everything from her—from the blue maxi skirt, to the V-necked, lace-sleeved blouse and the strapped silver sandals that were a little too small for my feet. Now I had two friends with fashion sense. And, I needed all the help they were willing to offer. Bobbi was going to love Sonja. Maybe they could meet each other later when Bobbi came over after her date—if she ever did. It was amazing how my social life had gone from almost nonexistent to two best friends and a guy I couldn't resist in just a couple of days.

  Sonja and I were nearly the same height. We were both five six, although I’ve always felt shorter. It’s amazing how your thoughts on your own self-image issues could drastically change once you learned to have a little bit of confidence.

  “How do I look?” I twisted and turned in the full-length mirror attached to the closet door.

  “You look like a woman.” Sonja backed away to appraise me. “I don’t understand why you American women like to dress like boys so much, with the baggy sweats pants and sneakers. Blech! This looks much better on you. Your breasts look ripe, like cantaloupes. He will like it.”

  “Uh, thanks, I think.” I ran my hands along my waistline and down my hips to my thighs. I looked in the mirror again and pushed my breasts up till I was satisfied. “I think I’m ready. What do you think?” I twirled the new curls Sonja had put in my hair.

  “He has no chance.”

  “No chance in hell.”

  I felt great. I sashayed down the hall feeling like a brand-new person—one that I hardly recognized. The tip-tap of my heels felt like a signal to all men, and they turned their heads as I made my way toward my first class. This time was different than before. The other time, I dressed up for him I felt like a fraud, a nerd in a clown suit fooling herself into thinking she was cute. Now, I felt like what I wore represented who I was and, most importantly, who I wanted to be.

  Before I could make Simon eat his heart out, I had to have my usual breakfast with Bobbi. She was going to flip. I was a little late, and as I walked into the dining hall, it looked like she had already gotten my tray for me. The small gesture of kindness made me stop and think how lucky I was to have such a good friend. I could be so selfish in my life and not even realize it. I had judged my roommate poorly, I had assumed things about Simon that I shouldn’t have, I had taken Bobbi for granted and I was even ignoring my mother’s phone calls. Maybe part of this new me would involve some damage control.

  Bobbi didn’t even look up when I sat down next to her. She was texting, I assumed to her boyfriend. I knew she couldn’t stay mad at him. “Good morning, Starshine.” I smiled at her and batted my eyes, waiting for her to look up. I knew she’d know it was me because of my voice, but physically, I was almost unrecognizable. The shock that was displayed plainly on her face was totally priceless.

  “Oh my God, Lynn! Where did you get those clothes? Did you find that at that shop? Did you, like, win the lottery or something? And who did your makeup? You’ve been holding out on me this whole time, haven’t you?”

  I giggled as I carefully chewed my food. I didn’t want to ruin my lipstick. “Sonja let me borrow her clothes, actually.”

  Bobbi was beginning to look like a deer in headlights. It was definitely a morning for the history books. “So, you’re telling me that not only was the elusive slut-bag home, but she actually offered you her clothes in kindness? No way! You must be shittin’ me!”

  I gave up on eating. Clearly, there was going to be a learning curve when it came to maintaining my new look. “Well, it turns out that she’s not actually a slut. She pretended to be one because she felt insecure about me not liking her. I helped her study all night after I kept her awake, talking in my sleep. I apparently had been, um, loudly dreaming about Professor Foster, so she woke me up, we talked and she offered to help me out. What do you think?”

  “Well, I think you look hot, and he might not be able to keep his hands off you. But, wait, why were you dreaming about Professor Foster? Were you, like, fantasizing about him or something? You dirty girl!”

  I knew breakfast wa
sn’t going to last forever, and I couldn't continue to stall. I had to share my secret with my best friend. I had to tell her what had happened.

  I went into every detail about how he had showed up at the bookstore and I’d taken him back to the dorm. I told her about our encounter—leaving out the sex in favor of a glossed over version—and the fight that happened after we “made out,” including how much I regretted it. I even told her about what Sonja had asked me. It felt good to get what I could tell her off my chest.

  “Oh, girlfriend, you’re in deep, aren’t you? Look, I am sorry for putting those thoughts in your head about him being a predator. I didn’t mean to make you insecure or lash out at him. I had no idea your feelings were that deep. I was just trying to protect you. Let’s be honest, he really could have been a creep. I mean, he was practically stalking you, right?”

  That made me smile, causing me to think about our encounter after work, when I’d accused Simon of being a stalker. My whole body missed him right then. I wanted to scream and cry, but I had to keep my composure. “I don’t blame you, Bobbi. I know you were trying to protect me. I didn’t have to go pop my mouth off like that. I really hope this works.” We went and threw our trays away. It was about fifteen minutes until the beginning of class.

  Bobbi reached out and gave me a hug. It felt extra comforting at that moment. I was about to face the music, and it was either going to be one of the best days of my life or one of the worst. “You go get him, girl! There’s no way he’ll be able to resist that badonkadonk of yours!” Bobbi slapped my ass with her hand as I walked away, toward the classroom and my fate.

  I approached the door to Professor Foster’s room and took a deep breath. I swung the door to the classroom open, ready to turn Simon’s head and profess my feelings for him—of course, once class had emptied out. It would be a long wait, but I was ready. I would do everything right. I’d stay awake and attentive in class and command his attention at the same time.