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matter, she shouldn’t have hit you.”
Did this mean she left? Did he put her out? Was my father mine again?
All hopes of that dream crashed as I heard clanking in the kitchen.
Son of a-
“Get in here,” he said releasing me. “We need to talk. Go on to your room and I’ll be up in a minute.”
I nodded, grabbed my things and dashed upstairs. I didn’t think he’d be up for a minute so I emptied my bag and started my homework.
About ten minutes had passed of fun filled essay homework when someone knocked on my door.
It was my father of course but I didn’t expect her to be with him.
He entered first and sat on the edge of my bed, the only clean spot to sit since I had papers everywhere. She stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot like she didn’t want to be here.
My father brought my attention back to him when he spoke. “We were all in the wrong.”
“She hit me.” Instead of using English, I used our language.
He sighed but didn’t do the same. “Yes, I know that was wrong, too. And Layla, could you please refrain from using that language?”
“Why?” I asked looking at my hands. You and mom used to all the time.”
“You’re not your mother.”
“Neither is she.”
“Layla please.” He sighed.”Let’s talk about what happened.”
“I am. She hit me because I told her she wasn’t my mother.”
“No,” said Rebecca impatiently. “I slapped you because you call me a fake bitch, you ungrateful slu-”
“Becca, please.” My father snapped. “As I said, we were all in the wrong but that didn’t give you the right to run away.”
“I didn’t run away,” I said meeting his eyes. “I just needed to get out for a while. You know…cool my head.”
“I understand that.” He nodded. “But what you did was still wrong. So we have to settle on a punishment.”
Crap.
“You will go straight to school, and then come straight home for the next two weeks.” I smiled only two weeks, I could do that. Plus it could’ve been worse. This was the second time I’d scared him like this and this punishment was reasonable. “If you need to study, you will do it here. You’re grounded until next Friday.”
I nodded.
“Rebecca?” He asked. “Do you have something you want to say?”
“Her first.” She whined.
I hated that noise. It was beginning to grate my last nerve. And she wanted me to apologize to her? Tough shit. I refused.
I must have looked shocked and appalled because my father asked if I wanted to go for a month.
“Fine,” I growled. “I’m sorry I called you a fake bitch.”
My father didn’t too much like my choice of words but I could’ve said worse. She was indeed a fake whinny bitch and I could’ve stated that along with other things.
She smiled as if she’d won a prize. “Fine, then, I’m sorry for slapping you.”
No she wasn’t. I could clearly see that. My father couldn’t, but I could.
“Now,” he said. “Hug and everything will be fine.”
“Are you serious?” I asked accidently in our language. Hey, it was an accident.
“Yes,” he said crossing his arms.
I smiled at his commanding posture. I could understand why Rebecca had married him. My father was handsome. He still carried a maze full of hair, none of it grey but a rich brown. He still wore muscle under his shirt though tight as it was. He had few wrinkles, only from laughing or the new ones from scowling at me.
I stood slowly and walked over to my stepmother. She stood rigid and for a moment, I thought she wasn’t going to do it, but when I wrapped my arms around her she did the same.
We were both tensed and broke apart instantly.
“See,” my father said. “Now, Layla, finish your homework and I’ll fix dinner.”
Rebecca and I shrugged.
They left after that and I continued with my essay.


Chapter Six
Two weeks passed by quickly. I’d done my chores without saying a word, came home on time and did my homework which I thought was pretty freaking good. So it shocked the hell out of me that I got a C on my essay for Mr. Simmons.
“I don’t understand how I got a C on a perfectly good report,” I said working to keep my temper down. “You told us to write about Beowulf, I did. You told us to tell how we thought he was heroic, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.” His mouth pulled up at the corners and his eyes showed obvious amusement. He had been doing that a lot lately. It often resulted in my cheeks flushing. “You said he wasn’t heroic.”
“He wasn’t,” I said bending over and placing my five-page paper on his desk with more force than was needed. This just made the smile spread across his face. “This was clearly an opinioned paper and that’s what I gave you.”
“Really?” He asked, leaning across his desk. His breath brushed against my face, making me lose some of my composure. He saw this and his eyes danced with the delight of making me lose my haughtiness.
“Really,” I said, voice smaller than it was a few moments ago.
“If it would make you feel better, I will look over it again.” He took my hand that was on top of the paper and my knees felt weak. He took my paper and placed it in front of him, though the hand that held mine never released its grasp.
I looked at his hand then pulled it from his gentle touch.
“Thank you.” I swallowed to regain my voice. I looked at his face and he still wore his smile.
“No problem, Layla.”
His face was inching closer to mine and I noticed vaguely mine was doing the same.
I watched his mouth draw nearer and nearer until it met mine. His lips were gentle and tasted of…something I couldn’t put my finger on but knew it was something I wanted to taste more often. My mind went a little hazy at the sheer bliss I was experiencing. His tongue parted my lips and mine met his, dancing together. His hand came to the side of my face, caressing my cheek and I let out a small moan.
Then it hit me. That simple sound reminded me of where I was and what I was doing. I pulled back with a small gasp.
I was sure my eyes were wide with shock and my chest was heaving as I tried to catch my breath. At the moment, I was at a loss for words. What about Jack?
Jack. Oh, God, Jack. Wasn’t he expecting me? On the field? Was there even practice today? Hell, I’d forgotten all about him. What the hell was I doing?!
“I’ve got to go,” I said quickly, picking up my bag from the floor.
Devin, too, wore a shocked expression, though from our kiss or my sudden need for departure, I wasn’t sure.
“Layla, wait,” he said as I walked out the door swiftly.
I didn’t. I continued to walk down the empty hallway until I reached outside, then my car. I sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the steering wheel for what seemed like hours though it was only a few moments.
I’d just kissed my teacher. No…I didn’t kiss him…he’d kissed me. Right? He had kissed me? But I had kissed him back. That was just as wrong, wasn’t it? Students weren’t supposed to make out with their teachers and teachers sure as hell weren’t supposed to be kissing their students.
I was confused. So confused. If he kissed me, did that mean he liked me? He couldn’t like me. I was a kid and he was…what? He wasn’t old. He was young, like really young. He’d told us he was twenty-six on his first day which caused some of the girls in the room to giggle like a pack of idiots. And he was cute, for a teacher.
And I couldn’t deny the way my stomach fluttered when I was around him. He did something to my body no other boy could do and he hadn’t even touched me then. And I had noticed him staring at me in class for the last couple of weeks. He would always smile at me sweetly or offer to help me with my class work. Did the way my body react to his affect my feelings toward him or was I just a ditzy teen who had the hots for her extremely sexy English teacher?
I didn’t know but found myself exiting my car and going back to Devin’s classroom. When I walked through the door, he stood at my appearance. I looked at the ground, unable to form a legitimate reason as to why I’d come back.
After a moment, I brought my eyes from the ground to his.
His face showed no emotion as he closed the distance between us in three long strides. He stood before me, body nearly touching mine. My name came from his lips, caressing my face like a feather.
He brought his face down and his mouth touched mine almost as gently as his words had. I pushed up on my toes to deepen the kiss and a growl formed in his throat.
I could hear the door close and I pulled away from him instantly with a worried look on my face. My back was to the wall and he was so close, if we got caught, we were screwed.
There was no one there. Only the two of us.
“Sorry,” he said a bit out of breath.
I wanted to ask for what but he stepped closer to me sending my thought process spiraling downward. His hands went to my waist applying small pressure as he pulled me closer, making our bodies touch. My breathing hitched as he moved my hair out the way and placed a trail of kisses from my neck to my jaw line.
If his hands and body didn’t have me pinned against the wall I would have fallen down. My knees had gone weak when he put his hands on my hips and now that he was teasing me this way it took all my strength to not melt in his grasp.
I kept my hands where they were, pressed against the wall so they wouldn’t wonder. His hands, though, now decided to explore every inch of my upper body.
They slid under my pullover then my shirt. My skin reacted to his against mine; making me shiver though I sure as hell wasn’t cold.
His body shook with silent laughter at my body’s reaction. Then his teeth nipped my bottom lip and I couldn’t help but kiss him back. My arms went around his neck as his hands went to my thighs, lifting me up and wrapping them around his waist.
He ground his hips into mine while our mouths still worked. When his hands moved to remove my pullover I gripped his waist with my legs so I wouldn’t slide down the wall. His mouth released mine so he could pull it over my head. Once he’d discarded it he gently touched my face with his fingertips.
My chest was rising and falling in heavy huffs as I tried to catch my breath. I was staring at is chest and realized his was moving franticly, too, as he tried to slow his breathing.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked, cupping my face in his hand.
I closed my eyes and leaned into that hand, loving the way his skin felt against mine. My answer was to place a kiss on his lips.
He kissed me deeply, hands moving to undo my

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