"Nate, I gotta go. You okay waiting with her until her dad shows up? I'm pretty sure the rest of the students are already gone. Vera McCarthy left her stuff next to the bed."

"I'll be fine, go ahead."

"See you."

The sound of keys jingled and a door shut. The air condition quietly blew from the vent on the ceiling, and it caused the few strands of hair on my forehead to flap against my eyelids.

I slowly opened my eyes. Mr. Lee was sitting on a rolling chair, and I looked around to see that I was laying down on a miniature bed with white sheets and a fluffy pillow. An ice-pack was pressed against my knee with a bandage wrapped around it.

"It's looking better." I heard Mr. Lee say, snapping me out of my daze. "You slept for the whole ride back. It's already seven o'clock. Your dad should be here any minute."

I nodded and rubbed my eyes. I grabbed my notepad and pen that was sticking out of the side pocket of my gym bag.

My hands were shaking, but I managed to make my writing eligible. Thank you.

He rolled his chair next to the bed, and automatically my heart-rate sped up and a blush spread across my cheeks. His vivacious blue eyes ran across my sloppy hand-writing, and they lingered on the last letter. He then gazed up at me, his thick lashed eyes comfortably boring into mine. The smell of peppermint danced around our two figures.

"I apologize for my behavior." He said, his wonderful hands tapping against the side of the bed. I studied the large veins that ran up his arm. His fingers were so close to my bare leg. The thought of him caressing my skin caused my breathing to become rapid.

"From before," he added.

The kiss. All at once the memory of his lips on mine shot through my body. Our bodies had been drenched but our kiss had felt so warm that the energy had coursed through the both of us.

I frantically scribbled on my notepad. I want you to do it again, I wrote boldly.

"No," he said quickly, but I watched with my own eyes for the very first time that he began to blush. A finely detailed smile appeared on his lips, but I watched him struggle as he tried to portray one who had authority. He looked down at the floor and shoved a hand through his tousled brown curls. He then scratched his stubbly chin while his face read every bit of discomfort.

"It wasn't right of me to do. I am your teacher and your coach, not one who can pass those boundaries." He frowned and looked back up at me, his eyes the most alive I had ever seen them.

I forget about my mother when I am with you, I scribbled as he read through my writing.

"You can't forget her," he said. "You need to accept her passing. We can find ways to do that, Poppy."

Like this? I wrote, and dropped my notepad on the bed next to me. His blue orbs quickly leafed through my writing and he looked at me as I leaned up on the bed and scooted close to him. I put both hands on each side of his stubbly cheeks. My fingers felt as if they were on fire- they literally burned with energy. I was beyond my comfort zone, but I found that I didn't really care.

We stayed like that, his eyes looking into mine. My hands remained on his cheeks. He raised his hand and gently caressed my hair, his fingers pressing against the top of my head. The ice-pack on my knee pressed against his leg and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt it.

"This isn't right," he whispered, his minty breath fanning my face and raising the hair on my arms. "I am not this type of person. You are too innocent for this."

He angrily dropped his hands and rolled his chair away from the bed. I heard a whimper escape my throat, and a pained expression warped his face.

"Fuck!" He muttered and shot up from the seat, shoving a hand through his chaotic hair. My eyes immediately widened at his choice of words. Not that I cared, but I still found it completely strange hearing teachers curse. "I can't lose my job. We could both get in trouble for this."

He was pacing around the room now, muttering incoherent things to himself. I couldn't tell whether or not he was talking to me, a little of both, maybe. I couldn't stand seeing him like this. He was always so happy. I remained silent and helplessly watched him mentally sort out his thoughts. I sorted out my own, but really there was nothing to sort.

In the simplest terms, he made me feel better. Out of all the psychiatric hospitals I'd been to, all the therapists I'd seen, all the medication I'd taken, he was the only one that had made me really feel good. He made me happy, and losing him would only put me into a depressed state of mind.

And it wasn't his fault, either. I was already attached to him. Seeing him on the first day of school had made my heart speed up, and he hardly said a few words to me. He wasn't bad for me, he was helping me. Why couldn't it be allowed?

"You won't lose your job," I said quietly, my voice cracking. "I won't tell anybody. Just one more time, please." I was almost begging. At this point, I would have bent down on my knees for him. Not in the dirty way, of course!

I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like down there, but in response to my thoughts, a heat spread across my cheeks.

He stopped mid-way and looked at me- really looked at me. I was frozen in my spot like a deer in a headlight.

He shuffled over to me and his lips came crashing down on my neck, and an awfully loud sigh escaped my lips. Warm lips pressed against my neck as a hand rested on the side of my stomach. Euphoria spread from my head all the way to my toes.

All at once his hands cupped the sides of my face and he kissed a soft spot on my collar bone. An embarrassingly loud gasp escaped my mouth.

I leaned back on the bed, waiting for more, but he detached himself from my neck. His eyes hungrily gazed down on me as he backed away.

"This will never happen again," he whispered. "That was the last time." As he said this, for the billionth time he shoved a hand through his hair. He looked so awfully attractive, his cheeks a bright pink and his eyes looked unusually bright and extremely beautiful, might I add.

I grabbed my notepad. But what if I kissed you? I wrote.

And after reading my words, before he could react, I hopped off the bed and leaned up to just graze his full lips. I stood on my toes and I still could not reach anything higher, but when my inexperienced lips awkwardly touched his, we both reacted to it.

And this, I thought, was what it really felt like to be turned on. When I backed away and we both stared at each other, his eyes rapidly blinking and our heavy breathing filling the silence, I had never felt so damn happy in my life. All joking side, I felt like I could literally fly.

"Thank you," I whispered, a smile breaking out on my lips. My fingers touched the tip of my lips, and they felt unbelievably full, as if they were swollen. I smiled in response to the reason why they were so puffy.

We heard the door knob shake and both of our bodies jumped away from each other, alarm contorting our complexions.

"Honey?" It was my father. He barged into the room and ran to me, his hug enveloping my body. I looked over his shoulder at Mr. Lee who stood next to the door, his eyes taking in the sight of my father for the first time.

"Thank you for staying with her," Dad said to Mr. Lee after he finished suffocating me with a bone-crushing hug. "Mr. Falliner told me how you took care of her. I appreciate it more than-"

"It's no problem," Mr. Lee interrupted, shaking my father's hand. A look of guilt washed over his face. "Ms. Rose is a pleasure to be the coach and teacher of."

"Thank you again. I've met a few of the other teachers but I already like you the most. She seems safe with you." Dad was talking quieter now.

"She talks a little more now." Mr. Lee said quietly. "She's getting better."

"Is that so?" Dad said enthusiastically, a smile forming. "Oh, kiddo." He hugged me again and kissed me on the head.

Dad and Mr. Lee said their goodbyes, and as we walked out of the nurses office, I couldn't help but look back with a cloud of sadness at the thought that we would never kiss like that again. It just wasn't socially acceptable.

And so I looked at him and he looked back at me with an expression of longing, and I couldn't help but miss him already.