"Mr. Lee," I whispered quietly into the classroom window, my breath leaving a blurry fog against the cold glass. The action before me was silent- tiny little snowflakes delicately falling from the white sky. They danced and twirled in the air, being gently guided by the gusts of wind that shook the trees.

"Yes?" He whispered back, both of us continuing to stare out into the scenery.

"It's only the beginning of November," I said sadly.

He nodded slowly, his eyes absorbing the scenery, his large hands connecting tightly together.

"Does this mean-"

"No more cross country?" He interrupted, finishing my sentence.

I awkwardly nodded, but realizing that he didn't see me, I muttered, "yeah."

"We can't hold meets in the indoor track, so technically yes." He replied, and a wave of silence fell over the both of us.

"When does track start?" I asked a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

"April."

"So six months without seeing you after school," I clarified.

He nodded his head slowly, and that was how the next month went.

It was as if cross country was our only string of hope. A forbidden and dirty way of caging our deepest desires.

I stopped coming to his classroom after lunch, and understandably he stopped glancing at me with those piercing blue eyes. Somehow, we just stopped.

My social anxiety had engulfed me, however. A single word hadn't escaped my mouth since Halloween.

I was too afraid to visit his classroom for the fear of having an awkward conversation. The end of cross country signaled the end, and I was not ready for that at all.

I wanted him with every shred of myself. On that night of Halloween, it was as if everything was suddenly getting better. I had talked to a waitress, and at the same time felt okay with it. But now?

I could hardly look at anyone, including my father. Ever since cross country ended, a barrier had been placed between the two of us. It was an invisible wall, an unreachable line that presented only the cons of being together.

Nothing good could come out of it in the end, right? Sure, he broke me halfway out of the wall that I had built around myself, but it was similar to drugs. I would just keep going back to my comfort zone- to not responding to anybody and feeling that my mother was mad at me for accidentally killing her. It was the easy way out. No hormone rages or sexual fantasies. All I had to simply do was stop seeing him. That way, my feelings would die out and shrivel into a void of nothing.

We both broke the law. I was a good girl and he was a good man. It wasn't bound to happen, but it did, and now I was trying to shovel myself out of the mess that I had so foolishly created.

A conclusion of all that had happened since Halloween would be that my heart was half cured. The half that Mr. Lee had mended was smaller, but held encouraging thoughts to look at the brighter side of life, while the other outweighed just about everything Mr. Lee had told me. My social anxiety was a never-ending cycle.

It was the day of the banquet- a late, winter night in December where the moon was innocently sitting in the sky, casting a glow on everything below it. Snowflakes littered the world in tiny, cold clumps.

I walked in sync with my father, his arm wrapped around my figure in order to create warmth.

I was wearing a violet, flowing shirt with spaghetti straps that left a tiny sliver of my stomach showing. I had covered that said sliver of my stomach with a black skater skirt, which touched a few inches above my knees.

In order to feel a bit more comfortable, I had thrown over a long white sweater that was longer than the outfit itself. Threads kept getting pulled out of the damn thing, but I was thankful for the material that in a lot of ways felt like a shield.

My hair had already grown since it was last trimmed, so I had curled all of it, which didn't look half bad considering I never did my own hair. I completed the look with mascara and a hint of white eyeshadow, which my father had mentioned drastically matched with the sweater, and made my green eyes stand out.

And, of course, to complete the look I had worn my good, old black Converse.

My outfit certainly wasn't magazine material, but what I did notice was that it attracted unwanted attention, to say the least. At this point, any attention was unwanted, and I felt like melting altogether when I pushed through the cold glass doors that led to the place the banquet was being held.

Every pair of eyes turned to me, and I stopped dead in my tracks like a deer in a headlight.

The atmosphere suddenly grew thick, unbearable even. I could feel my anxiety possessing a red tint to my cheeks. A shiver wracked through my body, and I felt my father's arm tighten around my waist in order to steady me. My heart pulsated rapidly in my chest, and I reluctantly took in what was before me.

Attempting half-heartedly to ignore the stares, I absorbed the extremely large and beautiful chandelier in the middle of the room. Circular tables with white tablecloths covered the floor. A tiny podium stood in the front of the room. Framed pictures of different meadows and sunsets decorated the velvet colored walls. The floor was a cherry hardwood, the chairs seated at the tables a few shades darker. A large T.V hung in the corner of the room, the sound of a football game droning on.

Every single student was staring at me. I understood that I never dressed up and perhaps that was the reason the opposite of recognition warped their adolescent faces, but why for so long?

Among the white circular tables occupied by students, a girl with blue hair, milky pale skin and a gaping mouth stood out from the rest.

Making it embarrassingly obvious, Vera pointed at the empty seat next to her. I turned to my father, as if to ask.

"Go ahead, honey. I'll be right over there with the other parents," he whispered, pointing at the few tables in the back that were littered with parents and families.

I slowly walked over to the table, a quiet chatter echoing throughout the room. Admiration? Disgust? I simply couldn't read what these students thought of me.

A loud, awfully obnoxious whistle interrupted my concentration of walking to the table. Nervously turning, a boy with a pair of blue eyes and a mischievous grin motioned at his lap. "I've got a seat right here, pretty thing."

Laughter echoed after his comment, followed by high-fives that I quickly turned away from. Walking away from the table, I finally reached Vera and clambered into the seat next to her, when suddenly a deep, husky voice sounded from behind me.

"I'm glad you could make it, Ms. Rose."

I turned around to glance at the man who's been intervening my every thought. A smile replaced my lips, and as un-awkwardly as possible, even with the rest of the girls sitting at the table staring at me, I took out my notepad;

It's a pleasure to be here, Mr. Lee.

It was then that I realized all the time not speaking to him meant absolutely nothing at this moment. It was blatantly obvious- I wanted him.

Mr. Lee's gaze loomed over me for a few more seconds, taking in what I assumed looked like a new and improved Poppy Rose. Except, I wasn't exactly new or improved, but from the looks of the other students that was exactly what I portrayed.

After an uncomfortable few seconds, Mr. Lee walked away from the table. A breath escaped my mouth, but the fluttering in my stomach remained. I wanted to look back, for I hardly noticed what he was wearing, but the six other girls sitting at the table were staring at me.

"So why don't you talk?" A blond with stubby eyelashes shadowing blue eyes and round cheeks asked, staring at me questionably. It seemed that the rest of the girls were silently thinking the same question.

I helplessly looked at Vera, and she gave me a reassuring smile.

"She has selective mutism."

Silence engulfed each and every one of them, until another girl spoke, with auburn hair and a typically makeup covered face with awfully obvious drawn-in eyebrows. "What's that?"

A twinge of fear twisted inside of me. There was no doubt they probably thought I was a freak. It was obvious- the way they were all staring at me with judgmental orbs. Two of the girls were whispering to each other while staring at me. They began to chuckle at something I couldn't hear.

"What does it sound like, dumb ass?" Vera snapped, silencing the table yet again. Her voice literally dominated the room. The other tables also quieted down, turning around to absorb the drama that they fed on.

"Y'all don't need to stare at her like she's a f.ucking science experiment. Her not speaking doesn't change the fact that she's an amazing person. And a gorgeous one."

Another girl spoke up. "But isn't it kind of...um...weird that she doesn't respond to anybody?"

My cheeks began to flame with heat. I sunk as far as I could in my seat, letting my curled and hairspray-stiff hair fall in my face.

A man cleared his throat. "Poppy Rose holds the fastest endurance out of every student on the team, including the boys And not only that, but she is deeply intelligent in school subjects. She has a great work ethic, and has never judged somebody because they have a disability. Can you say the same, Ashley? We all have internal battles, so why try to make hers something bigger than it already is?"

After Mr. Lee finished, his eyes trained on Ashley who had tears rolling down her cheeks pushed herself out of the chair. Storming over to her mother and father, she dragged both of them to the exit of the room, and all at once a burst of cheers and claps filled the silence.

I didn't know how to react. The attention was on me, but for once it was for a positive reason. I turned around and looked at Mr. Lee.

His hair was in its usual state. Attractive stubble dusted his chin, and his blue eyes were lit with an obvious emotion, although I still couldn't place what.

The beautiful man was wearing a dark blue button down shirt with black dress pants and black dress shoes. On his right wrist was a gold watch, and I found my gaze moving up his arm, picturing his muscular arms flexing.

I couldn't take it anymore. The tension was unbearable. I sucked in a breath, but that could not stop the gnawing sensation in my stomach that I knew this man was the reason for.

It was ridiculous that I kept telling myself he could help me without having a sexual impact on me. Thinking that we could settle for being just a student and teacher is absolutely pathetic.

He may hold power over me, but in a lot of ways I was in control. A tiny, unimportant mute girl like me could still have control over such a situation.

It sounded hilarious and quite silly, but here I was, squeezing my legs shut, my face flushed, lips parted, pupils dilated, skin crawling and imagining this man on top of me, his hands gripping the bed post as he did what every part of me wanted to be done. And in the simplest terms, I didn't want to wait anymore. Perhaps we could get away with a relationship without getting caught.

Perhaps he could still help me with my social anxiety and ignite the sexual fire that crawled through my body at the same time.

Why on earth were we staying away from each other? This man had seduced me from the start without even saying a word to me. I wanted him and he wanted me. It was the simplest equation.

Being with him would help me break out of my shell completely. It didn't matter how he helped me because once he's gone, I become the mute girl again.

I needed to be with him.

Mr. Lee's gaze was still glued on me. "May I speak to you privately, Ms. Rose?"

I nodded innocently, but my thoughts were the exact opposite. A fire was roaring inside me- a deep, aching desire threatening to break out of my system and ruin me.

I followed Mr. Lee into a corridor to the left of the room, shutting the door behind me. Our steps squished into the tan colored carpeting. Wooden doors were on each side of us. One had two doors together, which I assumed was a kitchen because of the big archway. The other had the female and male stick figures that represented the male and female lavatories.

"You're getting an award. Are you okay with me calling you up to receive it?" Mr. Lee asked, an awkward tone I was unfamiliar with lacing his voice.

I nodded, but my eyes were trained to his sharp angled jaw that looked like it could cut through diamonds.

"I give up trying to fight this." Mr. Lee finally stated, and all the sudden he walked over to me and shoved me against the wall, electricity exploding with his warm touch. I moved my head towards the door to indicate we should go there, and we both practically fell into the female powder room. Thankfully, the room was empty, and so he moved me over to the floral covered wall, my legs wrapped around his waist.

"We're so going to hell for this," I giggled into his shoulder, but was silenced when his teeth literally scraped against my warm flesh on my neck, and that was when I fell into an abyss of lust, and, perhaps a bit of love.