You’re Special to Me

“Can I ask you something?” I asked with complete anticipation.
“Of course. Shoot,” he said not completely listening while scribbling things down in his dairy.
“Am I just your usual student?” I looked down at my phone tracing the seams with my fingernail.
“What?” He raised one eye brow without looking up at me.
“You know… special” I spat out the word “special “quickly, and I wished that I could grab it and cram it back into my mouth as fast as it came out.
He looked at me, like he was deeply searching for something he could fish out from my eyes.
“Where did this come from Gab?” He spoke his words with ease and sympathy. He knew exactly what I was on about.
“Just…” I started to think about the words sliding off my tongue. “Just… Nowhere,” I stated firmly.
He frowned at me, and I looked down sadly.
“Hey! What’s up?” He panicked.
“The roof.” I said with no enthusiasm or humour.
He chuckled lightly. Then I sighed. I could feel his eyes crawling over me. The feeling made goose bumps rise all over me.
“Gab talk to me,” he said gently.
I looked up at him. His expression was soft. I panicked. If I said something I wasn’t supposed to, he could get in a lot of trouble.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I smiled a smile that I knew lacked happiness.
“Well…. Gab, you’re certainly closer to me than other students,” he trailed off.
I giggled. Heat rose from underneath my starch hardened collar. He laughed and I blushed more.
He studied the computer screen with great concentration. A smile grew wider and wider on his face. Then he laughed his cheeky laugh and my stomach went all nervous like. Then he tilted his head in a signal to go there.
I slid off the desk that I had been sitting on and sat on the chair next to him. I skimmed over the passage, a joke about politics. Then he laughed again. My stomach did a flip; I thought I was going to cough up a butterfly. I smiled at him. The two seats were touching, so I was only inches away. Our eyes met. But I didn’t look away. I bit my lip.
“Your special to me you know?” I muttered softly.
We both fell silent. I could hear his breathing. He stayed there staring at me. So I leant forward and pressed my lips into his.

At first he was reluctant. I tasted the coffee on his lips. We kissed again. Then he suddenly pushed me away with so much force that I hit the table next to me.
“Ow!”
“No, this isn’t right! I’m your teacher nothing else!” He enforced.
I glared a sad expression into his angry eyes, hoping to soften him, but it was no use. He left the room. Glancing at me as, he walked out the door. Tears dwelled in my eyes; I tried to fight them back. But they had a life of their own. Through my tear blurred eyes I saw his journal. Open to a page with notes in small chicken scratch writing, that read;
“The student who wouldn’t stop
Her glassy blue eyes
Her soft fair skin
Her pure gold smiles
And an expression that will always win...”