Page 49 of Eighteen (18)

“I’m sitting here in a chair, masturbating as I tell you a fantasy, Shannon. It’s hot.” And then he laughs. “You know it is.”

“It’s weird,” I say. “I’m speechless with you most of the time because you’re blowing my fucking mind. You make no sense to me. You don’t follow the rules.”

“Whose rules? Your rules?”

“School rules, for one. You’re my fucking teacher!”

“Technically, no. I’m a subcontractor. But ethically, yes.”

“It’s the ethics that count, don’t you think?”

“So walk out. Report me to Bowman. Call the police. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

My thoughts are racing around in my head. “Maybe I will.”

“At least you’d be invested. At least you’d stop just sitting here, begging me to get you out of this.”

“Beg you!” Holy shit. “To get me out of what?” I just want to punch him in the fucking face right now.

“Life.”

“OK,” I huff. “I’m done here.” I push my chair back to stand, but his words stop me.

“You want to skate through school, you said, take tests and call it learning. You want the prize without the work that goes into it. You want things you don’t deserve.”

“You don’t know what I deserve,” I say quietly. “You have no idea what I deserve.”

“I know,” he says, nodding. “But I do know what you don’t deserve. And you can deny it all you want, it won’t change the fact that you didn’t earn it. I’m asking you to earn it.”

“Earn what, Mateo? You make no sense.”

“It.” he replies. And then he lifts his hands up towards the ceiling.

“What’s any of this,” I say, lifting my hands up in the same way, “have to do with sex?”

He just smiles. “Nothing at all. It’s got nothing at all to do with sex. I just like you and I want to fuck you, and tease you, and play you. Not like that,” he says, seeing the anger inside me building. “Not like a victim, Shannon. Like an instrument.”

He reaches over for a roll of paper towels sitting on the table next to him, rips one off, and cleans up the mess on his stomach. He throws it into the trash, stands up, and puts himself back together.

“If you want to walk away,” he says, grabbing his book from the table, “go ahead. Report me to Bowman, tell the police, do whatever the fuck you want. But I’m trying to tell you, I’m invested. So go date Danny Alexander if you want. You can quit this class and drop out of school. You can fuck everything up. You’re a grown woman, you can make whatever choice you feel is best. But when you look back in ten years and wonder where it all went wrong, don’t blame me, Shannon. Because I gave a fuck and you walked out.”

And then he walks out. He’s got that stupid book in his hand and he just walks out and leaves me there.

Stunned.

I sit in silence for, fuck—minutes, I think.

“You done in here?”

I whirl around in my chair and find the janitor peeking his head into the room.

“I’m locking up, kid. Time to go home.”

I nod, dragging myself out of my stupor, and grab my backpack. I don’t say a word as I walk past him and out of the school. It’s dark already and the parking lot is empty. But off to the left I can hear the low rumble of a motorcycle.

I look over and see Mateo, helmet and leather jacket on, staring at me.

I walk towards him and stop a few feet away. He’s holding out a flannel and a helmet. I take the flannel and slip it on, hiking my pack up onto my back, and then shove the helmet down on my head as I swing my leg over the seat.