I place my hands on the sink and lean forward exasperated. I catch my reflection in the mirror, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, a mischievous smile from...ear to ear. I laugh at myself, at what she has made me feel. I think about her tongue, her wetness…those socks. The alarm on my wrist goes off. 7:00. Time to pick her up for our long awaited reunion. I emerge from the bathroom to find her in my bed. I smile, taking in the sight. She is face down in the pillows breathing softly. I run my hand over. ” It seemed as if she was forcing herself to be calm and steady when speaking to me. “Your writing so far is concerning.”“Why, did I have a lot of spelling errors or grammatical problems?” I was playing dumb.“You know what I am talking about. At first I thought it was kissing up, then I thought it was a crush. You are not the first boy to have feelings for a teacher. But this last story you wrote, it’s too much. This has to stop.” “What has to stop?”“Your sexual advances.”“I never made any. More

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