Alex

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

But even her being off-limits didn't stop me from lying on the couch, sifting through the sixty channels that I had, thinking about the way her dark eyes could look at me as though they were reading my soul. I became lost in a dream-plagued sleep after that, filled with the smell of melted ice cream and visions of beautiful, haunting eyes.

*

I kept clear of her radar for the next few months. I'd see her in class, yes, but that was it. Whenever I spotted her hanging out in the canteen or near the basketball courts, I'd walk in the opposite direction, knowing exactly how much one appreciative look from her could cause my student-crush to exacerbate.

For that's what I'd decided to call it. A student-crush. I had researched on the net about it, and realized that it was pretty common amongst teachers to have a crush on a student, especially when he or she was a class-topper. The crushes usually came and faded quickly, an anonymous teacher had said, and I took courage in that. Maybe one day, I'd wake up and find that I hadn't had a dream about her.

It was one of those nights – those hot, stuffy September nights – when I couldn't sleep, that I decided to log on to the internet. It was about two in the morning, and I couldn't resist a yawn as I waited for the little smiley face to say that I was online. It would be two in the afternoon back home, and I knew that at least one of my friends would be online for me to chat with. It had been a while since I talked to anyone close, and I'd begun to miss having family close-by.

A white IM screen popped up just as I clicked on the first unread Email in my inbox. The contact's screen name was AlexTheBitterGaud, and my mind went from sleep-haze to electrifyingly alert in two seconds. I vaguely remembered that I'd passed my Email address out to my students, so that they could Email a soft copy of their assignments to me. So, this had to be…

'Couldn't sleep?' the IM said. My brows furrowed at the message. It sounded way too personal.

Yeah, I replied. Why're you up so late?

AlexTheBitterGaud: Oh, I'm working on an E-novel right now, and I need to submit the second chapter of it by tomorrow night, so…deadlines suck.

CandyS: Wow. A novel. Really? What is it about?

I was intrigued. None of my students had ever worked on a novel before. Or at least, I hadn't known if they had.

AlexTheBitterGaud: Well, it's not much as of yet. But it'll be a supernatural one. The female and male protagonists are werewolves. But technically she isn't a werewolf yet… Damn, I'm sorry. The plot is a little complicated.

CandyS: (: So I gather. I can imagine you writing a supernatural novel. You have a natural flair for it.

AlexTheBitterGaud: Really?

CandyS: Absolutely.

AlexTheBitterGaud: That makes me feel good… especially when it's coming from you.

Oh, dear. Was she hitting on me again? My gut twisted into an anxious knot at the thought.

CandyS: No problem. I was only being truthful.

AlexTheBitterGaud: I know.

There was a pause, then she said: Hey, Miss S?

CandyS: Yes?

AlexTheBitterGaud: Why are you online if you can't sleep?

An imminent flush stole over my cheeks as I stared down at the words in front of me. I knew what she was thinking; I could envision the smirk on her face as she thought it. But I wasn't going to shy away from her taunts any longer.

CandyS: I wanted to reply to some Emails since I have the time.

AlexTheBitterGaud: Of course, Miss S.

Drats!

CandyS: Although, it's getting late, isn't it? I should probably get to sleep. I'll see you in school tomorrow, Alex?

AlexTheBitterGaud: Yeah, of course. Sleep tight.

CandyS: Goodnight to you, too.

I sighed in relief as I shut my laptop down, feeling as though I'd just fought a battle. I had no idea why Alex made me so nervous. It's not like I hadn't had crushes before. There'd been Rob in third grade, Haden in seventh, and the first guy I'd slept with – Vince in the tenth grade. They'd all been really nice – except for Rob, he hated me – but they sure as hell hadn't made me nervous. I didn't know why just talking to Alex made me feel like there were worms wriggling in my tummy. It was weird.

I rolled over in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Speaking to Alex had gotten the adrenaline running through my veins, and now, I couldn't sleep. Groaning, I stumbled out of bed and headed for the shower. Maybe a nice, cold bath would help soothe the heat in my body, or perhaps the detachable shower-head could be put to better use…

*

Intimate encounters with Alex were few and spread out through the two school years that I had with her. The first, beginning with the toilet debacle, to the last, when she had come into the staffroom, looking for me. A meeting had just let out when I'd been extremely surprised to hear that she had been waiting for me at my desk for the past half an hour.

She stood as I strode to my desk, balancing a stack of assignments in one hand and my briefcase in another. Without my asking, she hefted the papers out of my hands and settled in on the metal desk. I was impressed by her manners, and quickly lapsed into small talk. She replied appropriately, but the look on her face was unreadable as I sank down onto the comfy swirly chair that came along with the table and crossed my legs. I leaned forward and tapped my fingers lightly on the table top.

"So…what did you want to see me about, Alex?" Thank god my voice didn't betray the suddenly eccentric thump of my heart. Alex looked so sexy when she frowned. I could've kissed her right then.

Damn. No, I didn't just think that. It wasn't me.

"I just, um…well, I was wondering if you could…" I nodded slowly to encourage her, for she seemed to have some trouble in getting the words out of her throat. Her fingers began fiddling with the little 'I Miss You' teddy that I kept on the table. Suddenly, she stopped her stumbling and held the teddy up.

"Present from a boyfriend?"

I was pretty thrown back from the change of topic, and normally, if anyone else had asked me that question, I'd have laughed at them and told them Grandma Elise had sent me that two years ago. But with Alex… the question seemed pretty loaded, somehow. I mean, I should know. I was the one who was analyzing her monthly assignments. The girl was pretty deep.

"Does that have anything to do with why you're here?" I said a little too sharply after a moment of awkward silence. She placed the teddy back on the desk again.

"No, Miss S. I just… I wanted to ask you something…" she trailed off and rose from the chair. As I watched, she bit her lip, probably debating the best phrasing of her words.

"Miss S, I'm having a little trouble."

Now, of all things I'd expected to hear, that was surely not one of them. I'd never thought that Alex would be the one who would come to her teacher to ask for assistance. It just wasn't very… Alex.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked slowly, knowing that this might very well be a delicate subject. Alex moved to grasp the little paperweight gnome that stood on top of the metal cabinet. She stared at it intently before murmuring:

"I've hit a rut."

Again, I gave her that slow nod. A rut? What exactly did she mean? Financially, emotionally… what? When she didn't expound on her statement, I extended a question of my own.

"What kind of rut?"

With a sigh, she turned back to face me, leaning against the cabinet. I turned in my seat to stare up at her. She was looking more unkempt than usual, with her hair sticking out in odd ends and uniform in total disarray.

There was something up and it was serious. I could feel it now. The air around her was humming with what seemed to be dread.

"What's wrong, Alex?" I asked again, quietly. I knew that if I showed her how worried and concerned I was about her, she might shut me out, like most teens tended to do when someone cared over-much about them. But I was her teacher and couldn't help but worry.

"I have this thing, see. And I can't…"

"You can't?" I prompted.

She sighed heavily, looking down at her fingers – what lean fingers they were.

"I can't seem to write anymore," she said in something that resembled a whisper. Her eyes flickered to mine hesitantly before she looked away. "It's like… whenever I think of the topic I'm supposed to be working on, nothing comes up. It's blank. And it freaks me out. A lot."

At that moment in time, she looked so much like the insecure teenager that she was, and I ached to take her into my arms and coddle her. I knew what she had was writer's block, something that all writers stumble upon one time or another, but I wanted to wipe the worried frown off her face with more than just words.

"Miss S, I've considered everything. This isn't writer's block. Writer's block can't possibly feel like that. Like I can't string a plausible sentence together. Nothing seems right. And it isn't just a block."

And then, there was the fighter in her again. I knew the writer in her was fighting for an explanation to cling on to, to dispel the notion that it was not a long-term thing, this inability to write. And that spirit made me want to kiss her.

"Have you thought about other explanations? Do you have something on your mind that you're supposed to do, but aren't doing? Something important? All these things can explain a temporary extinction of imagination," I proposed.

"I don't know," she said, sounding rather pissed off and annoyed at something. I laid my head on a clenched fist and stared at her.

"Do you need an extension for the prelim assignment?"

She looked up from an intense perusal of her nails.

"Yeah. I thought I could get a draft done by today or something, but I couldn't. Can I have another week or so? I hope something comes to me by then."

I assessed the honesty in her eyes, half-knowing I could trust her. The other half was the half that wanted to back her up against the plastic dividers between the teachers' tables and kiss the crap out of her.

"I trust you," I told her frankly, "and if you need an extension, you have 'til the end of the month. That gives you ten days to hand in whatever you can for your Prelim score. Let's just hope that this block of yours doesn't extend into the A's. I'd hate to see you get anything but an A for Creative."

Her smile was infectious, and I found myself smiling back. Her lips were not thick, but the lower one was slightly thicker than the upper one, and from between them came a peek of pearly whites.

"Yeah. You and me both, Miss S," she said truthfully, pushing away from the cabinet. "Thank you."

"Aww, tsk. No problem. I was a student once, too, you know."

Another smile, this one brighter than the previous, and it reached her eyes. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her school skirt.

"So, I'll be seeing you, then?"

"Yep. In class, tomorrow."

She turned away from me with a little wave, then looked back after she took two steps. "Thanks again, Miss S. You have no idea how much that meant to me."

"Anytime, Alex."

It wasn't until I heard the woosh of the glass doors to the staffroom, that I dropped my head to the desk. I rapped it on the table once, twice, thrice, trying to dispel the unholy thoughts from my head. But it was no use. The only thing that did was give me a botchy red patch on my head that made my colleagues ask if I'd been frisky the night before.

I scoffed. Wishful thinking, Cans, wishful thinking.

*

As they usually did, the years passed like ten-year-old girls running though green fields. At the end of four years in Singapore, I found myself gazing at the cityscape from the window of my condo, trying to memorize every detail of the place which I'd be leaving a month later. It had been a hectic four years, with me coaching A level classes every year, but they had passed, and all that remained were fine memories of a fine time spent in a fine city.

If I had regrets about the time that I spent here, I buried it, for I knew that I only regretted doing – or should I say, not doing – one thing. In about a month, I would be out of here, far, far away from her and she wouldn't bother me anymore.

Everyday that passed since the last day I saw her had been dull and lifeless. I still remembered the moment when she'd come up to me after her final paper, which happened to be Creative Writing, wearing the smile that I'd come to dream about through fitful nights.

She'd told me that the paper had been easy, and the topic to write on had been do-able. There had been something in her eyes, like a sadness that I could identify with, that made my heart clench, and I knew that she was trying to come around to saying goodbye. She took her time about it, too, talking about everything and anything until one of her pink-haired friends came up to her and pulled her away. And even then, she'd looked back at me with a smile that mirrored more than the gratefulness a student shows her teacher… or maybe I'd finally cracked the nut.

I sighed heavily and turned away from the window, mentally calculating that it had been exactly two months and ten days since the time I had seen her last. I hated to admit that I was yearning to see her again, but I knew that that was the truth.

There were big, cardboard boxes strewn all over the condo, and some of them were already filled and scotch-taped to be shipped over to my apartment in NY. The place looked very bare now, and lacked the character that my pretty throw cushions gave it. I sighed again as I flopped onto the bare couch and reached out for the stack of mail on the table.

Bills, bills, bills… I muttered under my breath just as the phone started to ring.

OK, I knew it was pathetic, but phone calls always got me excited, 'cause it meant that someone was calling from home. And over the past few days, I'd become so homesick that I'd actually called Mom twice in a day. Being away from family for four years kinda had that effect on most people.

"Hello?" I said cheerily into the mouthpiece as I flicked lint off my black tank top.

"Hey."

I think my heart stopped for a moment, and my fingers stilled on my stomach. That voice. I knew that voice. But, no! It couldn't be. She didn't know my number. How could she?

"Um, hi. Do I know you?" I asked quizzically into the phone, hesitance in my voice.

"Yeah, you do, Miss S."

I swallowed thickly. I never really got over that drawl.

"Alex."

"Bingo. How you doing, Miss S?"

"I'm good, Alex. Is something up?"

It was a bad habit of mine to start pacing when I got worked up about something. My feet were already making tracks through the thick carpet of the condo. Why was she calling? God. Now I'd be thinking about this conversation for the next few weeks.

You're a sad little shit, you know, the little voice in my head said.

Yeah, I know.

"Naw. Nothing's up, Miss S. Just wanted to talk to you."

I raised a perfectly blonde, arched brow in response.

"Really?" I said in the voice sarcastic voice possible. "You call your teacher, whom you haven't seen in two months, I might add, in the middle of the afternoon to tell her that you 'just wanted to talk to her'?"

She laughed, the husky vibrations of it emanating from the phone and sluicing down my body. I bit my lip. Damn her.

"Well, yeah. And besides, you aren't my teacher anymore."

That last comment took me by surprise. I wouldn't say that the thought hadn't crossed my mind – that she had, indeed, graduated from school already and that I was not her teacher anymore – but hearing her say it had a profound effect on me. Mostly, my tummy just coiled in tighter knots.

Had she laid in bed thinking what I'd been thinking? That there was nothing stopping us now if we decided to start dating? Somehow, the fact that I wasn't even gay didn't stop me from thinking of going out with her. I knew that my parents wouldn't be objecting, and the community was accepting. After all, it was simply an attraction to another person. If it didn't work out, I could just blame it on Charm's – my best friend – influence. But I needed to sort some stuff out first.

I decided to be forward with her.

"Alex, did you want something?"

There was a pregnant pause. Then I heard her breath rasp over the phone.

"Yeah, I do, Miss S. I want you." For a moment, my world stilled and every muscle in my body went limp. I leaned against the wall, wondering what the hell was wrong with the world, when she continued with her sentence. "…to go out with me

next Friday."

A gush of air rushed past my lips as I started breathing again. Did she know that she was killing me? Was she doing this on purpose?

I shouldn't go out with her, should I? It would be like a date, wouldn't it? Oh hell.

"What? Like a date?" my voice was high and a little squeaky. I hadn't been this nervous in… forever.

"Well, now that you mention it, I think a date would be nice, don't you think?"

Whoa. Wait. What?

"Whoa. You weren't gonna ask me out on a date?" I asked with a very confused frown.

"I was about to, but since you already asked me…." she trailed off as I tried to come up with a proper rebuff. I could see her shrugging in my mind's eye. "I'll pick you up at seven, Miss S."

The phone line was cut. I stared at the plastic in my hand as though it had taken a bite out of me. What had just happened?

I moved forward on shaky legs and daintily seated myself on the couch, the phone call replaying itself in my head. I was going on a date. With Alex. The very Alex that had been off-limits for two years.

"Oh my god," I said aloud as I felt the blood starting to pulse faster through my veins. This was huge.

Teachers dating students – correction, ex-students – wasn't very uncommon, was it? I knew of a few teachers who were married to their ex-students. But this was different. I was in a different country, and hell if I knew if they had a law against dating students. I could get into trouble…

For what? the nagging voice returned. For going on one date with an ex-student? Who is legal for anything now, by the way.

It was so confusing! I knew I shouldn't go, but couldn't come up with a suitably logical reason to stop myself from going. Alex and I were both adults… so why shouldn't I go? As I bit my lip in consternation, an idea hit me. I knew what I had to do. Picking up the phone again, I dialed the area code and phone number to Charm's apartment.

"Hey, Charm. I need your help on something."

"Cans? What the…? Fuck, it's two thirty in the morning!"

I winced as I heard the gruffness in Charm's voice.

"Yeah, I know. But I needed to talk to you. I have a problem. Like a huge problem. And I'm so confused, I don't know what to do…"

"Wait up, pretty. Slowly, OK? I'm still kinda half-asleep." There was another voice in the background, sounding suspiciously like a mewl. "Hey, baby. No, nothing. Get back to sleep. I'll be back."

I hear Charm moving about in the room as I told her the whole story. I knew that if anyone could give me good advice about girls, it would be Charm. Aside from the fact that she's known me for most of my life, she was also an 'out' lesbian. She would know what the signals Alex was sending me meant.

"You're saying that you've been hung up on this girl for two years?" Charm's voice was incredulous. I was instantly defensive.