AN: Here is Chapter 2 :) Not all of my updates will be this quick but I had already had part of this written when I uploaded the first chapter. Please continue to rate and review. I love to hear feedback!
I awoke the next morning to the familiar beeping of my alarm clock. Groggily I stumbled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator up. Much to my disappointment, only a few bottles of beer and an expired carton of milk sat on its shelves. I sighed and trudged to the bathroom, my stomach grumbling in protest.
In the mornings I was able to go about getting ready without the fear of my father ambushing me with abuse. He was always out gambling by the time I woke up.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My own deep brown eyes stared back at me. I have always thought that my eyes are boring. They aren't as green as the leaves on the trees or as blue as the sky. No, the only thing synonymous with my eyes color was dirt. Or shit. Either way there was nothing special about them.
My thoughts then flickered to the deep and beautiful blue eyes of Mr. Bleye. The tiny flecks of silver in them had made his eyes seem even more beautiful than a sapphire. But why was I thinking about Mr. Bleye right now? I had only told him I "loved him" so that he wouldn't give me detention and make me miss my job.
I sighed softly to myself and combed my dirty blond hair so that the strands weren't sticking up every which way. Then I slipped on my school uniform and packed my work clothes into my bag neatly. With one last sorrowful look at my empty fridge, I left the apartment.
On my way to school, I passed by a super market forlornly, my stomach growling loudly. I desperately wanted to buy something to eat, even just a slice of bread. But, I knew that all of the money I made had to go towards paying for the apartment rent or paying for my dad's booze and gambling. It wasn't as if I wanted to continue to feed my father's addictions with the money I earned, I didn't have a choice. He would always demand money from me when he got low on cash and, if I didn't have any money to give him, he would beat me senseless. I shuddered as memories of being punched, kicked, and cut by my father ran through my head.
I continued on my way but the sweet aroma of bacon and eggs tortured me as I walked by a restaurant. I knew going through the school day with an empty stomach would be torture so I swallowed my pride and decided to do what I always did when I hadn't eaten for a couple of days- dumpster dive.
As soon as I saw that the street I was walking on was empty, I darted into the alley behind the restaurant. There, I lifted the lid of a metal dumpster like one would open the lid of a treasure chest. But, instead of gold and riches, I found the scraps of peoples' breakfasts mixed up with garbage. Greedily, I fished out a piece of crust and began munching on it. I also managed to salvage a few pieces of melon, the fatty portion of a piece of bacon, and a wonderful half eaten pancake. I shamefully scarfed down these scraps and made my way to school.
School passed by uneventfully, that is, until math class came around. I had tried to make it to class on time in order to slip into my seat unnoticed by Mr. Bleye but getting from science to math class within the short passing period proved impossible for me. I walked in the classroom door a minute after the bell rang.
Mr. Bleye was once again busy writing down complex math formulas on the board. He didn't turn around when I slunk into my seat, but I had a feeling he knew it was me walking in late. After all, I was always late to his class.
Today I managed to stay awake for the whole of the lecture. I dutifully copied down the mess of numbers on the board, despite having no idea what they meant. I would try to look through the notes tonight and decipher what was going on. The bell rang and I hastily packed up my bag, I did not want to spend another late night with Mr. Gorichi.
Just as I was leaving the classroom, Mr. Bleye called out to me. "Mr. Wheeler could you please come over here for a moment? I have something I would like to discuss with you."
Yugi looked at me with concern so I mustered up a smile and told him to go on without me. I reluctantly swam upstream against the tide of students that were leaving class. By the time I made my way to Mr. Bleye's desk, we were the only two left in the room. "What's up Mr. Bleye?" I asked, avoiding his gaze. I knew what he was going to say.
"Mr. Wheeler, you were late once again to my class. And, on top of that, you also failed to hand in another homework assignment. I'm afraid I have no choice but to have you spend one hour after class every day with me."
"I-I thought we already talked about this yesterday," I fumbled, "about cutting me some slack because I'm…" my voice trailed off in embarrassment.
"Yes Mr. Wheeler?" Mr. Bleye murmured.
Did he really not remember that embarrassing lie I told him yesterday? "Because I'm… in love with you Mr. Bleye," I spluttered.
"Ah yes, about that." An awkward silence fell over the room. "Look at me when I am speaking Mr. Wheeler," Mr. Bleye commanded in a surprisingly authoritative voice. My eyes snapped forward to meet his. "Good, that's better. Now concerning the matter of your affections, I don't see any reason why we cannot use this hour after school to satisfy them. Maybe then you will be able to concentrate during my class."
I felt my face turn a bright red. Had he really just suggested what I thought he had? "N-no, I don't want to do that," I stuttered, still shocked by what my teacher had just told me.
"And why not? I thought that you were 'in love with me and stuff'," he purred seductively, taking a step towards me.
Crap, my own lie was coming back to bite me in the ass. "About that… well… I was… lying…" I told him in a barely audible voice.
"Lying?" he asked in a manner that seemed as if he were feigning his surprise.
"Uh… yeah. I was just looking for a way out of your one hour detention..." I admitted.
"Well then Mr. Wheeler," Mr. Bleye muttered. He then took another step towards me and grabbed me by my wrists, forcing me up against the classroom wall and pinning my hands above my head with one of his own. "… I believe you need to be punished," he whispered in my ear.
"W-what? Stop!" I cried out, struggling against him.
"Uh-uh-uh," he tutted, covering my mouth with his free hand. "There shall be no shouting at school Mr. Wheeler." I tried unsuccessfully to bite his hand but he just let out a soft chuckle. "Now, what should I do with you?" He leaned forward and licked my cheek. I thrashed about wildly in his grasp.
"Now, Mr. Wheeler, I'm going to remove my hand in just a moment. I want you to be a good boy and refrain from yelling. I suggest you do as I say because, believe me, you will not like me when I am angry. Is that understood?" I nodded my head reluctantly and he removed his hand. "Good boy," he murmured.
"Don't speak to me as if I'm a dog or something you damn bastard," I hissed, careful to keep from shouting.
"My my, it would appear that my mutt has quite the bark," he said with an arch of his eyebrow.
"I'm not a mutt!" I swung one of my legs forward hoping to knee him in the crotch. Unfortunately I missed my target, but I did manage to connect with his leg. Mr. Bleye let out a small, startled grunt. I took advantage of the situation and struggled against his hold on me with all my might.
The taller man proved to be too strong for me though. He held me flat against the wall by pressing his body against mine. I was surprised that his body felt strong and solid underneath all of his baggy clothing. "Along with having a bark, it would seem that my mutt also has a sharp bite," he whispered into my ear. His breath lightly tickled my neck, causing a shiver to run up my spine.
"I could report you for this you know. This is sexual harassment or something like that," I told him quietly, no longer fighting against his grip.
"You could, but you won't," he answered confidently.
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure that I won't go and turn you in to the school board or the police you damn pervert?"
"I think you have too much pride to do that," he nipped the shell of my ear softly, "and I think that deep down you want this."
"F-fuck off! Like hell I want this," I swore at him, "I'm fucking straight!"
"You can try and deny it all you want mutt," he chuckled. "I also have one extra bit of insurance to make sure you don't spoil our fun by running off and telling someone." He backed away from me so that it was once more only his hand pinning mine above my head. With his free hand he pulled a small silver device from the front pocket of his baggy tweed coat.
"What's that?" I eyed the device suspiciously.
"Have you never seen a tape recorder before Mr. Wheeler?" Mr. Bleye asked rhetorically. He then pushed down one of the buttons on the device.
"Because I'm… in love with you Mr. Bleye…" I heard my own quavering voice say.
Mr. Bleye hit another button on the tape recorder and it stopped playing back our conversation. "Cute, isn't it?" he said with a smirk. "Now, if you don't want everyone you know- your friends, your classmates, your parents- hearing this little confession of yours, I think it would be best if you did as I said."
"Bastard…" I grumbled underneath my breath. His smirk broadened.
"Well, that will be all for today Mr. Wheeler, you may leave," he informed me in a matter of fact tone, suddenly releasing my wrists and walking back to his desk.
I rubbed my wrists and cringed at the tingling feeling running through my arms as the blood flowed into them. "I think you're bipolar or something… You should go see a psychiatrist ya lunatic," I told him.
"And what do you mean by that?" He inquired, his voice filled with amusement.
"I mean you act like a little, quiet, nerdy teacher one minute and the next your slamming me against walls like some damn sadist."
"I'll take your suggestion into consideration Mr. Wheeler," he replied in a sarcastic tone.
To Be Continued
