The Mate

Chapter 4

THIS CONTAINS s****l CONTENT, DONT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, IT'S TOWARDS THE END SO THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER YOU CAN READ! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!!  

I still don't know how to cope with what I saw, I learned complete denial of what happened has seemed to work. I tell myself it was just a terrible dream and that didn't happen and my panic attack subsides. But when I'm in the same room as Mr. Salvatore, I feel...smothered. I feel like i can trust him. I feel i need to kiss him. 

Still very confusing. 

And now, he's tutoring me. 

I'm not very...smart. Bad things happened when I grew up, and my development was delayed. I'm not an i***t, I just have problems comprehending things. Especially in English. i excel in science, but when it comes to English and any other main courses it's hard for me. I need extra help and he was the only teacher willing to do it during his lunch. 

He's going over all the adjectives i need to know. Poetry things. What personification and metaphors are. I have no f*****g clue, they all sound the same, and my head is starting to hurt so i've tuned him out. Thinking on if i should tell him. 

Deep inside of me, someone is screaming at me i need to. But there's no way he'll believe me. I don't even believe me. Like i said this morning, it was a dream, nothing more. 

He's snapping his fingers in front of my face and i lock my eyes with his beautiful blue ones, clearing my throat to ignore everything i was thinking about. 

"Did you hear that?"

"Oh yeah, totally." i lie. 

"What did i say?"

Shit. 

Think Miles. 

"Something to do with poetry."

He laughs. "I suppose yes, but-" he sets his pen down. "Miles you have to pay attention. You have been here for three weeks almost, there are no lee ways for you anymore. You now have to do work. You have to pass, or you will repeat Sophomore year." 

Oh. 

Great. It's happening again. 

"Have you even started working on your oral report for my class?"

Oh right. 

"Not doing it."

"That's 30 percent of your grade."

I nod. "Fail me, i'm not writing it."

"Why not?" 

I look away from him, grabbing the rubbing band and letting it slam hard against my wrist. He sets his hand on mine and something jolts through me. 

"Tell me why. If it's a good reason i can excuse you. Why won't you."

I look at him. "Fine." I lean forward. "Family history. A summary in the first person what we remember?"

He nods."

"Alright." I lick my lips. "Want to know what i remember? I remember my bio parents slapping me across the face and throwing me down the stairs because i was the reason they couldn't buy drugs. Oh and then i went to my aunt and uncle's who are extremely religious, forced to go to church, only to realize at 9 i was gay. Then i slept with a guy when i was 14 and they caught us in the act, and i was sent to a straight camp."

His mouth drops open and he goes to say something but i hold my hand up to stop him. He wants an excuse, i'll give him a f*****g excuse. 

"There i was slapped, hit with rules and forced to vomit when i had urge or a thought about another man; how they know is beyond me! I had to stand naked next to other gay people to be forced to hate on a man's body. Mm, but it didn't work because everyone there is just stupid. Then, i ad to leave my hometown because everyone knew. My parents were so embarrassed they rather start over than live with the fact i'm gay." i sigh, resting my head on my hand. 

"Now, i have to find some girl to date to prove to my family that conversation therapy worked, or else i'll be kicked out. So, i must fake what i am going to be for the rest of my life. Oh, and not to mention my drugged out psycho parents want me back, somehow they remember what happened i don't know. So yeah, where can i start when my entire life has been complete and utter s**t?"

He stares at me, he's shocked; I've made another teacher shocked. It's almost amusing, I'm so use to my past life it no longer shocks me at this point. "Okay," he slowly starts. "Then I'll excuse you form the oral report and since you just told me i'll give you a B, since you cussed. And it wasn't in first person."

I smile some. 

Thank God, i really would hate to fail this stupid course; why is it even a thing? I know how to speak English and i don't care for poetry. 

"They sent you to straight camp?"

I nod. "For a year. Until i faked it and found a loophole to pretend, i wasn't gay."

He nods. "All my family did was yell at me because i couldn't have kids. Then i was ignored by most of them, until i left for public college and then came back four years later and they missed me."

"You're gay?"

He nods. "Yes."

"That makes so much sense." 

He chuckles. 

Does he feel this way too? 

Get back on subject Miles. 

"You won't tell anyone? My parents said if i went back then i would be kicked out and i really don't want to right now."

"I don't go out of my way to tell parents that their kids are gay." He smirks. "Especially religious parents."

I nod, sighing in relief. "Thank you."

"Now, does this not make up for the fact that you have to learn this, or you won't pass. It's very easy to learn poetry language. Being gay will help."

i glare at him. "Why? Because i'm supposed to be girly and lovey?"

"Well no." he smiles. "No, because you're gay. Your parents are religious and because of that, what you went through, you can express yourself through this. Once you get the hang of it it's real easy. Personification is using human characteristics into nonhuman things. For example, the car danced across the icy road. Car can't dance."

I huff at his stupid attempt to make me laugh. 

"Look, we'll pick it up tomorrow after school, can you do that?"

I nod. Yeah whatever, that'll get me out of being with my parents. They're getting annoying with the girlfriend need. 

"I have a meeting during lunch I have to attend so I can't do it during lunch." He gathers the papers and walks to his desk and i check out his ass. It's perfect. I want to touch it. But he looks at me and the moment is over i forced myself to look away and pop a grape in my mouth like nothing happened. 

I need to go. I want to touch him. 

I gather my papers and set them in my bag, going to walk out. 

"Miles!"

I turn instantly and basically turn into him. The connection is strong, the urge to kiss him; stronger. He clears his throat and holds up my water bottle. "You um, you forgot this."

Fuck it. What do i have to lose?

I drop everything in my hands and kiss him, and thank god he drops the bottle and kisses me back. He grips the sides of my jeans and presses into me. I tip my head back and smile, his hand smoothing down my stomach and into m pants, exciting me. 

But a f*****g knock happens and interrupts everything. He pulls back and looks at me, with a panicked look, he looks at the door. "I-I'm with a student!" He calls.  

Whoever it was groans, and leaves. Normally i wouldn't hear that but after my 'dream' i can. He slowly draws his hand from my underwear and swallows hard. 

'Um, it's probably best that we don't continue this."

Oh! No!

"Believe me, i wan't to. I've wanted this since the day you made eye contact with me but-" he sighs and rests on the wall behind him. "I'm married. And you're my student. I get caught i lose my job. My marriage."

"You're married. You don't have a ring."

"People here don't take kindly to people being gay. I tell people i'm married, everyone wants to meet my wife. The principal here is very religious and i like my job." He sighs and reaches forward, moving my hair from my eyes. "Oh, f**k it." he smashes his lips back to mine and i beam. 

He bends me over the desk and takes me, hitting my sweet spot perfectly. His fingers are digging in my hips but i love it, my urge for him is getting stronger the more he's moving. My legs quiver, and he holds me up calling out just as i do. He falls, and crushes me to the desk but i love it. I want him to touch me more. 

But the bell rings. So he's standing upright and fixing his jeans, i follow his lead. He wipes the desk he laid me on and throws the napkin away, smiling. He's out of breathe, and i love it. 

"f**k that's the quickest i've been." he glances at the clock, rubbing his face. "You have to get to class."

I grab my jacket and bag, holding it to my crotch and walking out. There's no way we could be together, but deep down I pray we can be. But what i turned into two nights ago is not something i want to share with others. 

He's right. We can't be together. I'm a freak. If he knew, he wouldn't like me. It's sad and depressing and i shove it away when i put my books in my locker and head to gym class. A nice run will get my mind off him. 

It'll pass Miles.