The English Teacher

Two different people from two different worlds. Sounds cliche, right? But it's true.

First there's Charlotte Dent. The normal kid in school who get's pretty good grades. She's a senior this year but hasn't exactly been in a "real" relationship.

And then there's Ashton Keiler. He was a player in high school which makes sense due to his good looks and hilarious personality. He ended up being an English teacher at Oak Grove High School.

When their paths meet, sparks fly. But can they keep the relationship a secret long enough for Charlotte to graduate?

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15. Charlotte

“Love possesses not nor will it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.”

 

 

-Khalil Gibran

 

 

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               December 20th. 

 

 

               The day before winter break.

 

 

               I only have one more day to get through with until I’m done with school for a few weeks. No school means no homework and spending more time with Ashton.

 

 

               Although, when I go to Ashton’s flat, Chase is there most of the time. With Chase being there, it prevents Ashton and me to have our time together. Although, some of the time Chase has Liam over which means that we have a “double date” as we like to call it. It’s usually just Ashton ordering takeout and we all eat while watching a movie. It’s quite nice when I really think about it. Although, I would love for our relationship to be public.

 

 

               That’s my issue here, our relationship is hidden. I can’t tell anyone really. There’s a select few who really know about Ashton and I. Liam and Chase only because Chase lives with Ashton and that would be pretty hard to keep away from him. Same with the Liam thing since he spends most of his time there.

 

 

               I’m in Biology at the moment, just waiting for the day to be over. I’ve had enough of this bullshit of which they call “school”. It should be illegal to have teenagers wake up as early as we do and sit in a classroom learning about things that we’ll never use.

 

 

               This must be a bit weird coming from me, seeing as my boyfriend is a teacher after all and I do have him in English but that doesn’t stop school from being pointless.

 

 

               My phone vibrates, telling me that I have a text from Poppy.

 

 

               From Poppy:

 

 

                im so bored right now

 

 

               To Poppy:

 

 

                so am i. just 1 more day until winter break tho!

 

 

               From Poppy:

 

 

                true that. i just want the day to end already

 

 

               To Poppy:

 

 

                itll go by faster if you imagine its monday.

 

 

               From Poppy:

 

 

                ill try

 

 

               We pretty much ended the conversation there. It isn’t like there was anything else to talk about anyways. I decide to finally pay attention, taking my own advice to pretend it’s a Monday. It couldn’t hurt, right?

 

 

               It seemed to work though, the class went by faster and it’s finally 7th period which I had free. I decide to devote the time to Ashton. But of course, it would be too suspicious if I was just sitting in there talking to him so I usually work on homework, reading or writing.

 

 

               Yes, I do write stories. I decided that since I can’t keep a diary without the risks of someone finding it, and no blog because stranger danger and people would know it’s true. I decided to write a book about my past. That way, I can say it’s fake.

 

 

               I post it on a website called Movellas under a fake name. I don’t want anyone to find it to know who I am and then know everything about my past. That would be terrible. No, that would be horrifying. But anyways, it’s really like a diary to me. 

 

 

               I go to my locker, putting the books I need in my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. I grab my usual writing notebook and make my journey to Ashton’s classroom, trying to be as inconspicuous as I could possibly be.  

 

 

               Much to my dismay, Ashton has a student finishing a test in the classroom by the time I get there so we can’t flirt from the distance we’ll be sitting at. I sit in the front row, sending Ashton a wink, making sure the student doesn’t see.

 

 

               I sit there, writing as much as I can. The more I write, the better I feel. I once heard from someone that writing is a form of therapy, and I must say it’s true. Writing seems to keep me free; reading keeps me from being destroyed by reality.

 

 

               The memory from a few nights ago keeps popping up in my mind. It was just another special winter moment that I was happy enough to spend with my perfect boyfriend.

 

 

               “C’mon, Charlotte, you’re going to get a cold!” Ashton shouts from the door he’s holding open.

 

 

               “No I won’t, I never get sick,” I claim, sticking my nose up in the air.

 

 

               I’m standing in the middle of the infamous field, feeling and watching the snowflakes fall from the sky. It looked so perfect I was pretty much awestruck. Ashton didn’t seem to agree though.

 

               “Don’t make me come out there and get you,” he threatened. He was only wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans. He would be freezing if he wasn’t holding the door open, letting some of the heat warm his body ever so slightly.

 

 

               “When you’re ready come and get it na na na na, na na na na, na na na na,” I sing. I do a little dance around the snowflakes. He sighs and runs out, throwing me over his shoulder and running back with me doing a little squeal at the sudden movement.

 

 

               He puts me down when we get back to right outside the door. It feels nice to actually touch the ground again. He cups my right cheek and kisses me, I kiss back with all the passion I can muster, tangling my fingers in his hair.

 

 

                I seem to get so lost in my writing and my own thoughts that I didn’t notice that the kid left and Ashton was staring at me with his feet at the top of his desk.

 

 

               “Whatcha lookin at, Mr. Keiler?” I told you I was calling him that in school. I’m not taking any risks!

 

 

               “Nothing, just enjoying the view,” He responds, smirking. I blush and turn back to my writing. I haven’t put in Ashton yet but I’m planning to once I’m out of high school for good. Because by then, it will be legal and I can’t get in trouble for it.

 

 

               I spend the rest of my free period in there. With Ashton grading papers while I finished a chapter and a half while making eye contact with him often. I believe the more I write, the better I feel. Like I said, writing is a form of therapy.

 

 

               The bell soon rings, meaning it’s finally winter break. I smile and look up at Ashton, only to see him smiling back at me, thinking the same thing as I am.

 

 

               “You ready to get out of here?”

 

 

               “I’m always ready,”

 

 

               We go out to his car 30 minutes later when all the buses and students are gone and the teachers are still grading papers. I make sure to hide my face as much as possible until I get into his car which has slightly tinted windows.

 

 

 

               As we drive off towards his apartment, I think; I wonder what this winter break will bring me. Or maybe even us.

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