And Then I Met My Teacher
I got home exhausted. The inside of my thighs was burning. My skin was completely irritated because of my wet jeans. When I walked in, my mom was sitting at the kitchen table, talking on the phone. She smiled at me warmly before carrying on with her conversation. I assumed she was no longer angry with me, but of course my playstation was nowhere to be seen.
I went to my room and thre my school bag on the floor. I layed down on my bed for a few seconds with my shoes still on. This had been a long day. I took a deep breath in before getting off my bed. I started searching through the boxes for my pajamas, but I couldn't seem to find them. I simply decided to change my wet pants for some black, knee ripped, skinny jeans. I opened another box and looked for a comfy shirt.That's when I found it. Sam's old shirt. The shirt he had given me the night I had gotten drunk with him for the first time. I was fifteen at the time and couldn't handle my liquor very well. Not that I was any better today, but that night, we got so drunk I puked all over myself. He had given me this shirt for me to sleep in. The next day, he drove me home and said I could keep it, as a souvenir of that night.
I slowly sat down on the corner of my bed, holding the shirt in my hands. I missed him so fucking much already. I had been away from him for two days and it felt like we had been apart forever. I brought it closer to my face and, to make the matter worse, it still smelled like him. I could still detect the scent of evergreen from his conditioner, along with the sweet smell of hibiscus from his laundry detergent. Samuel had been my best friend since the beginning of high school. We did everything together; go to school, play music, listen to music, go to concerts, play video games and so much more. Everything except what I had been dreaming of for years. I knew he was straight. I knew nothing would ever happen between us. That's what made our friendship so destructive. Being his best friend, I had been forced to listen to his hook up stories for years. Each time, I had to fake a smile while feeling my heart breaking inside my chest. He wasn't gay. He wasn't not even bi. Like most teenage guys, girls were the center of his world. Even if he had been gay, I was just good old Frank to him. He would never see me as boyfriend material. I looked at the shirt and put it on. I had heard my mom say we were starting over at least a hundred times over the last few days, but I wasn't ready to. I couldn't bring myself to forget about Sam. I brought my nose closer to my shoulder and breathed in to get one last whiff of the shirt. God, I missed him. I shook my head, trying to get Sam out of my brain and left my room. My mom was still sitting at the kitchen table but she was no longer on the phone.
''How was school?'' She asked, tapping on the chair next to her, inviting me to sit.
''It was alright.'' I answered as I sat down.
''Did you make any friends?''
''Well, I met this guy, James. He seems nice.''
''See! It's easy to make new friends when you're not putting weird make up on. I'm telling you, Frankie, Montreal will be good for us. I'm sure you'll make tons of new friends. And nice kids, not weird punks like that Sam guy you were hanging out with in Belleville.'' She said almost spitefully.
''I'm going to bed.'' I said as I got up. Who the hell did she think she was to insult my friends? Too soon, mom. Way too fucking soon.
''Frankie, come on. Don't take it like that. I didn't mean to insult you.'' She said, trying to hold on to my arm to make me stay. I wiggled my arm impatiently to free myself from her grip and went to my room, slamming the door behind me. What the fuck was her problem? It was like I had turned into her personal punching bag. It's not like I was responsible for my father's death. I understood that she had just lost her husband, but I had just lost my dad. I really didn't need any more pressure. I unpacked my stereo so and put on my favorite misfits album. I turned up the volume and closed my eyes, letting the music washing away my feelings. I was only starting to feel better when I heard someone, obviously my mom, banging on my bedroom door. I decided to just ignore her and turned up the volume a little to make the noise go away. She swung the door open and unplugged the radio.
"What the fuck?" I yelled.
''Are you going insane?! This is an apartment! We have neighbors!'' She yelled back.
''See if I care." I answered arrogantly.
''You want me to take that as well?'' She threatened.
''That's it. I'm done. I'm leaving.'' I said as I got up.
''What do you mean, you're leaving?''
''I can't keep doing this. You're clearly going through some stuff and I'm not going to stand here and let your treat me like shit. I'll go stay at James' if I have to, but I'm not spending another minute in this shitty apartment.'' I yelled, on the verge of tears. I was so angry at her. I had moved here for her, to put her mind at ease. Why was she treating me like this? I heard her yelling at me as I walked out, but I didn't listen. To be honest, I didn't give a shit about what else she had to say.
I had been for about fifteen minutes and I noticed that Montreal's night life seemed to be pretty animated. There were a lot of people in the streets. Some of them holding hands, some of them just walking alone. Some seemed like they had somewhere to go, others were just looking around. A lot of stores and restaurants were still open. I checked my phone to see what time it was. 8:16 PM. I saw a bar that didn't look too crowded. I waited to see if the doorman was asking for I.D.. I saw a few people getting inside without any trouble so I decided to take my chances. The bouncer scrutinized me from head to toe and opened the door. I walked in and sat at the bar. The bartender himself seemed a little tipsy already, trying to balance himself behind the bar. I ordered a glass of whiskey. About half an hour later, a man sat next to me. I didn't even bother to look at him. The small T.V. behind the bar was channeled to a soccer game and maybe it was because of the whiskey, but I was actually into it.
Three drinks later, I was still staring at the now blurry T.V. screen, wondering what the hell was going on with my life.
"Hey, do you have a lighter I could borrow?" The man sitting next to me asked. I took my Zippo out of my back pocket and looked at him, handing him the lighter. I recognized him instantly.
''Mr. Way?'' I asked confused. He seemed just as shocked as I was.
''Frank? What are you doing here?'' He asked, grabbing the lighter. He seemed pretty drunk, but so was I.
''Drinking.'' I answered. He chuckled and got up. He walked right passed me and went outside for a smoke. I was shocked. What were the chances that I'd bump into one of the 4 people I knew in this whole city.
As soon as he made his way back in the bar, I felt my body getting warmer. Maybe it was the alcohol was making its way down, but whiskey or not, he was one sexy motherfucker. I started thinking that maybe, with a few more drinks, he would stop seeing me as a student. Maybe, if I was lucky, he could start seeing me as a potential hook up. Not that I'd ever hooked up with anyone, but if I was going to, might as well hook up with someone hot. Jeez, Frank. Stop dreaming in colors, that would never happen.
He sat back next to me and handed me the lighter. I was about to offer him a drink when he completely took me off guard.
"So, what's your poison, hun?'' He asked. He was definitely drunk. The somewhat professional art teacher that I had met today had left his body many drinks ago. The fact that he was trying to flirt with me and probably get in my pants made my stomach flutter.
''A whiskey would be great.'' I answered, moving my stool closer to his. He winked at me and waived at the bartender, calling him over.
''We'll have two whiskeys and two shots of tequila.'' He ordered. I looked at him confused and he smirked at me.
''You're just going to have to trust me on that one.'' He said, licking his bottom lip. The seductive tone he had used sent shivers down my spine.
The bartender rapidly poured our drinks and placed them in front of us. I was about to take a sip of my whiskey when Mr. Way stopped me. He placed the tequila shot in front of me, but grabbed my lime.
''What are you doing?'' I asked, confused.
''Take the damn shot and you'll see.''
''But what about my lime?''
''Just take the shot.'' He said firmly. I wasn't too sure about this, but I did it anyways. Once I had taken the shot, I looked at him to get the lime. That's when I saw he had carefully placed it between his lips. He looked at me with hearty eyes and slightly pulled on my shirt, which cause me to take a step forward, closing the gap between us. I reached for the lime with my mouth and I felt our lips touching. I thought he would just let go, but he didn't. I literally had to suck the juice out of his mouth. He wanted to play? Well, damn he would play. I made the lime squirt with my teeth and pressed my lips against his roughly. He pulled away and looked at me. I could see the lust in his eyes mixed with the excitement of doing something forbidden. It made my dick twitch in my pants.
''My turn.'' He said, handing me his lime. I took it and placed it between my teeth. He smirked and took his shot. A few seconds later, the lime was long gone and his little lime game had turned into a steaming hot make out session. Without breaking the kiss, Mr. Way took his wallet out of his pocket and put 50$ on the bar and dragged me to the bathroom. He slammed my back against the wall and locked the door.
''You're so fucking sexy.'' He said as he unbuckled my belt. I expected him to unbuckle his as well, but instead, he went down on his knees. He pulled both my pants and underwear down and started slowly stroking my now hard cock. I knew what he was about to do and I couldn't wait to feel the warmth of his mouth around my dick. His lips were about an inch away from my member when my vision became blurry. I started seeing black spots and that I felt my legs getting weaker. The walls of the bathroom seemed to be moving around and I felt my body hit the ground. It was like I was stuck in a weird dream. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, but I was still hearing some of the noises that were surrounding me. I felt like throwing up, but I couldn't move. After that, I don't remember anything.
When opened my eyes the next morning, my head was pounding. I didn't know where I was and I didn't recognize any of the clothes I was wearing.I heard someone singing and decided to follow the voice. I slowly got up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen. I was praying that I hadn't hooked up with some creepy old dude. The previous night was extremely vague. I didn't remember much. I remembered fighting with my mom and drinking whiskey, but nothing else. When I saw who the voice belonged to, I froze. My art teacher. Some flashbacks of what had happened the night before started spiraling in my head. I had made out with my teacher.
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