Mr. Lee held every bit of jealousy in his eyes. He lacked the ability to hide it. As much as I wanted to believe he was sweet all the time, he looked mean and territorial when it came to Mr. Elliot.

Perhaps Mr. Lee wasn't the only one, which I had heard other teachers speaking poorly of Mr. Elliot. But could Mr. Lee really be jealous over something that revolved around me?

Mr. Lee's possessiveness caused me to want him physically and I couldn't seem to understand why. My heart thumped like a drum as I dropped my belongings next to my desk. I rummaged around in my backpack as an excuse to not look at Mr. Lee, but I felt his eyes burning a divine path in every inch of my damn body.

When I slumped down in my seat and my eyes impulsively landed on him, he was staring- hell, he was studying me with so much intensity that I had to look away in fear of exploding from the tension.

I uncomfortably shifted in my seat, my fingers twirling with each other out of boredom and complete discomfort.

"What is your grade in his class?" Mr. Lee asked, rolling his desk chair to the middle of the classroom.

I began to nervously scribble on my notepad.

An 85, I think, I wrote, my handwriting purposely bigger so that Mr. Lee could read it from the distance.

"An eighty-five is perfectly fine," Mr. Lee muttered in a choleric manner. He licked his lips and looked around the classroom. I stared at the smart-board behind him, attempting with all my might to avoid awkward eye-contact.

"I don't want you to go," he voiced rather harshly. "It's not fair to you. He clearly isn't going to keep you in that classroom for extra help."

My eyes widened. "T-then for what?" I stuttered, my voice throaty and graceless.

"Nothing," he said abruptly, dismissing the point. "I just don't want you to go."

I wrote on my notepad. But you're not keeping me for extra help, either.

I slowly got up from my seat and proceeded onto the desk in the front row. I lowered myself into the seat and turned my notepad around to show him. His eyes absorbed my writing, stress causing his eyebrows to scrunch together.

"Yeah," he muttered, his right hand whispering across the stubble dusted on his chin. "I know."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. It pained me to see him so worried. Then and there I would have done anything to ease the pain for him, but there was nothing I could possibly do that would make it better.

He raised his arms and rested them on his mass of curls atop his head. God, he looked so beautiful right now. His legs were laid out in front of him and his eyes were set on the ceiling.

I sat there helplessly, the desk creaking with every movement my body made as I uncomfortably shifted around.

I squinted at the clock. Ten minutes until I had to go to his class. A zap of panic erupted in my chest. I placed my hand over my heart and focused on the throb of my heartbeat as a distraction from a panic attack.

"I don't want to go," I whimpered.

"It'll be okay," he said to the ceiling, his eyes nowhere near focused on me.

I wasn't just petrified of the fact that I would be alone with Mr. Elliot. I was unnerved because this was a disadvantage of social anxiety- being alone with somebody you didn't know. What if I had a panic attack in front of Mr. Elliot? Not only would it be embarrassing, but I doubt he'd even know what to do. Somehow Mr. Lee knew how to make me feel better, but in no way could Mr. Elliot do that.

"How old is Mr. Elliot?" I asked quietly. I still couldn't get over the sound of my voice- hearing it was still new to me. Mr. Lee is basically the only one who hears it, which I'm very fond of.

"Thirty-five." Mr. Lee responded monotonously.

"And how old are you?"

A wave of deadly silence fell over the room after my question. Somehow his age had never really occurred to me until now. What if he was older? Did that make this even more wrong than it already was? Would him being young make it right?

I sucked in a breath and he sat up on his chair, his oceanic eyes settling on me. He placed his hands in his lap. He was an expert at hiding his emotions, that was for sure. His face was drained of any kind of sensibility.

"I'm twenty-eight."

And if there was one thing that I completely didn't understand, it was my body and the way it reacted to things.

Any source of air I once had escaped my body for a few seconds. My cheeks felt like someone had lit them on fire, and that flame was slowly crawling down to my neck and spreading throughout my whole body. I squeezed my legs together in discomfort.

Why the hell did I find this to be so attractive? He wasn't a high school boy and I couldn't seem to process that. He wasn't what every girl dated in my school. He wasn't the type of boy Vera was interested in. He was a man. A full-grown, erotic, awfully captivating man.

And I was seventeen, for crying out loud. He was exactly eleven damn years older than me.

"Do you have a wife?" I asked boldly, voicing my curiosity. I was beyond any doubt miles and miles away from my comfort zone.

"I do not," he answered. I wanted to raise my fists in the air and sing loud enough for glass to break. He was single! How is that even possible?

"Do boys like you, Poppy? Have they looked at you before?" Mr. Lee huskily questioned, slowly raising himself from his desk chair. His arm muscles flexed as he gripped the arms of the chair to lift himself up. My cheeks were burning so much that I wouldn't be surprised if they were actually on fire.

I shook my head and looked down at the desk. "Of course not," I chuckled quietly.

He stood straight and took a step forward. It was as if his steps allowed tension to leak through the ground. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins and I was completely out of breath.

"I've seen them look at you during cross country practice," he replied, pronouncing every word slow and dripping with raspy allure. "You're completely oblivious to it."

My throat felt as if I had screamed for hours. I nervously grabbed my notepad as he took another step closer.

Oblivious to what? I wrote, turning it around to show him. As he stepped closer, I noticed his eyes were a blue that you could get lost in. They looked like marbles with ocean water trapped inside. My heart pulsated rapidly in my chest.

"Oblivious to your desirability. You are different in the most fascinating way."

"No," I said breathily. "I don't think-"

"Stop," he said sternly, my body stiffening automatically at his sexy tone. "There is no need for you to be insecure."

And before I could interject, he walked over to my desk and kneeled down so that our height was leveled.

I couldn't take it anymore. My first kiss was already him, and now that I had an idea of how to, I could do it myself. I lifted my legs and put them under me. Leaning on my knees, I raised my body and pressed my hands against his chest, bringing my face closer and closer to his. The aroma of peppermint encircled our bodies. An aura of energy coursed between the both of us.

My hands looked so small against his hard torso. I fingered the soft fabric of his white button-down.

"We shouldn't be this close," he whispered, his minty breath fanning my neck. His voice caused the hair on my neck to immediately stand up straight. Goosebumps appeared on my exposed arms. My instinct was to throw a sweater over my body that I wasn't exactly fond of, but not in a million years would I break our contact. "This is unfair to you."

"It's not unfair to me if I like you, Mr. Lee. I know what I want." I said proudly, my voice sounding stronger than it ever was before.

"You're just a child," he whispered, his tone sounding pained.

I sealed his lips with a kiss. A wave of bliss exploded in my body. My lips molded perfectly onto his, my hands pressing harder into his chest. I opened my mouth in desperation and his body reacted instantaneously- his mouth connected completely to mine. His warm lips captured mine and he bit down gently.

A gasp escaped my lips, but the sound was shielded by his mouth.We moved closer to each other, my body sticking to his as if it was the only thing that could provide me life.

I raised my right hand and shoved it through his hair, tugging on it gently as his lips absorbed every bit of mine.

And just then, I realized it was past the time I had to go to Mr. Elliot's classroom.

"Mr. Lee," I breathlessly spoke. "I have to go."

"Shit- yes of course." He moved away, his cheeks flushed and his hair completely disheveled from my hands. He shyly glanced at me. "I'm sorry. I don't know why this keeps happening," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his husky voice.

"Yeah-"

"The door was open?" Mr. Lee's eyes widened, and I turned to notice that the door was indeed opened completely.

"If somebody passed by..." His voice trailed off.

"We can't do this anymore, seriously. Not here, anyway. Come on, I'll walk you to his classroom." He said distractedly, guilt warping his face.

He avoided my gaze and motioned for me to follow. I combed a hand through my messy hair as we walked silently.

Shortly after we arrived at his classroom, Mr. Elliot walked out with a smirk curling his lips.

"What are you, an escort?" He said to Mr. Lee, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "She's late."

Mr. Lee bitterly pulled him to the side. He was angrily whispering words in his ear that I couldn't and didn't know if I wanted to hear.

"Let's go, Poppy." Mr. Elliot said as he turned away from Mr. Lee. Mr. Elliot put his hand on my back and guided me into his classroom, and I arched my back in discomfort and fear.

I turned around and my eyes searched for Mr. Lee- but there was nobody in the hallway anymore.