4. Confessions of a Teacher
Jon did not think it would get so bad.
All he wanted to do was teach kids and earn money in order to support his mother. That is why he accepted the job in the first place. Don't get him wrong, he still loved his job- teaching kids about the subject he was most passionate about, but he felt as if some days were unbearable to cope with.
It was all because of her.
Sometimes, he wished he could stop all his emotions, just so he would not be experiencing so many things all at once, making his head spin.
If someone asked him what started it all, he would clench his teeth in frustration, glower directly at a spot in front of him and grumble, "those fucking skirts."
Sansa Stark and her skirts were the bane of his existence. He did not know what would be worse: watching her prance around in her skirt all day, or not be able to see it.
It was like both heaven and hell on earth. He felt as if he was slowly going insane.
The reason why he both loved and hated those skirts at the same time was because of her long legs. It had been an obsession of his ever since he had first glimpsed at them. His mind had short- circuited the moment she stood frozen on the spot on the first day.
He would try so hard to erase it from his memory, but it was all in vain. They seemed to go on forever, making him whimper softly to himself in lessons like a scared little boy.
On his fourth day at school, he had almost gone to the school board to get the leaders to ban those skirts. But he knew that seeing her in trousers would be even worse. So, he left it at that.
He'd often lie awake at night, shuffling around in his bed wondering how it must feel to have those legs wrapped around his waist while his hands gripped her own tiny waist. He'd wake up every day before school, wetness all around his upper thighs, sporting morning wood.
Then the guilt would rise even faster, slamming into him like a weight train at full speed. He felt disgusted with himself. He was a twenty-two-year-old man fantasizing about an eighteen year old girl. Better yet, he chuckled darkly without any mirth- he was a teacher having dreams about his student.
It was wrong on so many levels. Her parents lived opposite his house and they had no idea what he thought about their daughter. The school had trusted him as a member of authority to care for her, as his student, but instead he had mentally violated her in the worst way.
Sansa, herself would think him depraved and revolting. He would not blame her if she decided to report him to the authorities. Hell, he was sickened with himself as well.
He couldn't look her in the eyes at school. He had a fear that she would know at soon as she looked him in the eyes; she would see the lust and desire swirling around each time he looked at her. But then he would also feel at fault, noticing her disheartened expression on not being picked to answer a question.
He hated himself for that.
But the worst thing about all of this was that his attraction was not only psychical.
He knew he had feelings for her, or starting to show the beginning signs of a schoolboy crush on a girl. He knew it was not only psychical because of the admiration and warmth he would feel at her intelligence. The passion she felt for her subject, and the way her eyes would sparkle with a hint of redness on her cheeks when seeing her discuss something she loved, made him feel something flapping in his stomach.
His stomach would grip tightly when she saw this, making him lean forward in his chair hoping not to miss anything. It was due to her intelligence, romantic nature and kindness that made him fall for her even more.
It made him feel sick but happy at the same time.
He had specially moved her to the front table, near his desk for a reason. It was to see her with a closer view, and keeping her proximity closer to his; something that delighted him very much, no matter how much he wishes it did not.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, he knew it was out of his control. The only thing he can do is allow the current to take him under.
The wind whistled in his ear and blew across his flushed cheeks, the bitter taste of the cold November air lingered in his mouth. He trudged through the school parking lot, approaching his car with his car keys clutched in his right hand.
He could see a bunch of school boys, still in their uniforms loitering a few spaces away from Jon's car. Excitement was written all over their faces as one of the boys had an arrogant smirk on his face. He had bleached blonde hair, that was spiked upwards, his eyes filled with mischief.
Jon already did not like this kid.
He gave off an 'I'm better than you' vibe, his pointy eyes taking in everything around him.
Jon did not think anything of it at first. He just assumed that they were waiting for somebody so he just ignored them and kept walking. Besides he wanted to get home quickly due to the grumble his stomach gave while thinking about the food his mother had cooked at home.
However, his ears decided to overhear the subject they were conversing about, making him stop abruptly in his heels, his head snapping towards their direction and his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Has she finally decided to go out with you?" asked one of the darker haired boys with an eager face.
The blonde's smug face falters, "She hasn't yet but I guarantee you that she'll be begging me to go out with her by the end of the week. She just hasn't experienced all this yet." He motions to his body, top to bottom.
The gaggle of the boys let out loud laughs, the sound echoing in Jon's ear. He hoped they were not talking about who he thought they were talking about.
"Believe me guys, Sansa Stark just has not experienced the right man yet. Baratheon probably wasn't man enough anyways. No wonder she dumped his ass."
He could hear a wave rushing through his ears. His fists clenched tightly into his palms. He bit his tongue hard to stop himself from rushing over there and punch the smug blonde in the face until his nose was bloodied (though nothing would give him so much delight).
"Don't worry guys. I'll swipe the Ice Queen's v- card soon. Everyone will hale me as a hero in these very hallways. You should start making a banner," the blonde brags arrogantly.
Jon snaps, he had finally heard enough. His nostrils flaring angrily, he stormed over to the huddle.
"What is the meaning off this," he snaps sharply, focusing directly on the smug faced prick who looked surprised.
"What do you mean, sir," questioned one of the smaller boys who was shuffling on his feet nervously.
Jon did not break eye contact with the blonde.
"Why have you not gone home yet? School hours are finished and you should have been off the premises a long time ago."
"It's not a crime to be hanging out here," claims the blonde indignantly.
The arrogance on his face had appeared, making Jon's rage climb to new heights.
"What's your name, boy?" he spits out at him, the word 'boy' thrown like an insult to his face.
"Harry Hardyng," he says puffing his chest out with haughtiness.
Jon's anger kept increasing.
"Right Hardyng. Detention! For two weeks. You'll lose your break time for back chatting a teacher and refusing to obey orders," he raises his voice with darkened eyes.
"WHAT? NO!" Harry shouts angrily.
Jon steps closer, his face nose to nose with the blonde who now looked confused and fearful, looking up at dark eyes filled with rage.
"Did I stutter, boy? Make that a month's detention while you're at it, for raising your voice. You'll be cleaning the boy's bathrooms for two hours every day with the caretaker. Do I make myself clear?"
The parking lot had gone completely silent. Jon could hear his own heavy breathing and the wind whistling in his ear.
His body was filled with a fury he had never experienced before, not even with his father. All he could picture in his mind is the hands of this fucker in front him touching her all over. It made him want to slam his fist into a nearby wall.
"Jon? Is everything okay here?" said a heavily accented voice.
Jon mentally groaned. This day could not get any better.
Taking a step back from the student, he turned back around to see another teacher standing a few steps away from him.
"Everything is fine Melisandre," he rolls his eyes. "I was just giving out detention to this boy for raising his voice."
Melisandre was the philosophy teacher in the school. She refuses to let her students call her by her last name, claiming it made her feel old for some reason.
Jon did not like her. She would always make up some excuse of coming into his classroom after school. She would always touch him on the shoulder or forearm while staring intensely at his face, making him feel uncomfortable. She reminded him of a temptress, born into his life to make it a misery. He felt like her touching him was the equivalent of a cold shower. So, he avoided her in staff room, choosing to hide in corners until she gave up her obvious advances.
Melisandre turned back and glanced at the boys in front of her, all wearing a shocked expression on their faces. She glances towards the blonde boy, accepting Jon's answer.
"Do as Mr Snow say," she says towards the conceited boy.
Harry flushes red in anger and embarrassment before nodding stiffly to Jon. A bolt of satisfaction runs through him though it does not decrease his anger.
Glancing towards his friends he spits out, "Get your friend out of my site and make sure he controls the filth coming out of his mouth the next time I see him."
They all nod and drag the blonde away out of distance.
"Thank you, Melisandre but I could have handled that on my own. Now if you excuse me, my mother is probably wondering where I have disappeared off to."
He buttons his blazer shut and strolls towards his car slamming it shut without giving the other teacher another glance.
After the drive home, Jon was finally calm enough to greet his mother. He had counted to ten repeatedly in his mind until he felt tranquil enough to get out of the car.
Unclenching his hands from the wheel of the car, he stepped out but not before glancing across the road to a certain student's house. At that moment, he had a crazy notion to storm into her house and demand her to tell him everything about the blonde prick who he had just met.
He was losing control, and he was losing it fast.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he took a deep breath and walked into his house, the desire to hug his mother overcoming him. Jon knew that no matter how angry or sad he felt, the presence of his mother made everything feel better.
Despite being very protective of his mother and claiming that she needed him, there were some days in which he needed her. He wanted to crawl into his mother's lap and fall asleep just like he used to when he was a little boy.
Before he knew the truth about his selfish father, who had left his original wife to carry out an affair with his mother, before leaving her too.
Jon did not allow these thoughts to overwhelm him too much, otherwise he knew his previous anger would return, this time directed towards his father.
Removing his blazer and shoes and leaving it on the rack next to the door, he walked into the kitchen hoping to find his mother cooking. He could already scent the aroma of spices, making a soft smile appear on his face by recognising the familiar smell of his mother's cooking.
He could feel himself slowly becoming at ease in her presence. She noticed him walking in as she stirred the pot with a wooden spoon. She gives him a soft smile, gesturing him to approach her. He gives her a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello love. How was work?" she questions.
He gives a casual nod, while walking over to the fridge. "It was fine. I got most of my work completed and they said they might give me a pay rise if I keep up the work I am doing so far."
Lyanna beams at him. "That's great honey. It what you always wanted."
Opening the fridge door, he takes out the orange squash and a glass from the cupboard. Pouring it into the glass, he takes a sip, the sweetness of the drink filling his body.
"So, what did you do today?"
"Oh, I had a nice chat with Mrs Stark from across the road. That's reminds me, we both made plans together. We've decided to meet each other's family meaning we've got a family dinner with the Starks."
Jon's head snaps up. Excitement runs through him, feeling himself eager to meet her again despite the lack of control he had over his body when it came to her. His mother carries on talking, not being aware of what Jon was feeling at this very moment.
"They've invited both of us to meet the family so I expect you to be there tomorrow at dinner in your best suit. Mrs Stark assures me that her eldest son and his girlfriend are coming as well. He's about your age, a few months older so I'm sure you'll along."
Jon gives a nod. "Sure. I'll be there. I'm going to take Ghost for a walk in the park. I'll be back in an hour or two."
Lyanna waves her hand, allowing him to go. Grabbing his dog's leash, he whistles.
"Here, Ghost. It's time for walkies."
The old trees boarding the fields acted like guards, muffling the sounds of the busy city and creating a peaceful haven for the small creatures that lived inside. The only entrance was a narrow path that gradually widened as it ran through the field and up the hill. A cold breeze would occasionally blow, making him thankful for the coat he had on.
Jon adored the peacefulness and quiet atmosphere of the park. Most people would think him crazy for visiting a park in the evening in November but this was the time that Jon liked. It allowed him to wonder through his innermost thoughts to himself and allowed Ghost to receive fun and exercise.
The tug of the leash made him break out of his thoughts, realising he was no longer holding onto Ghost. He gave a bark and raced ahead, not waiting for Jon.
"Ghost, wait!" he shouted running over his dog.
Ghost had disappeared into a corner, out of his sight. Gritting his teeth in determination he made his legs run faster until he turned the corner and found his dog lying down on his legs in the distance.
Narrowing his eyes, Jon walked closer to his dog trying to figure out what it was doing.
"There you are, Ghost. What are-
The ending of his words was cut off until he realised who his dog had come to a stop in front of.
Sansa was sitting on a park bench with a book clutched in her hands, a bewildered expression on her face as she glanced up at Jon with her wide blue eyes. She was wearing jeans and a warm sweater combined with a long green coat. On her head was a light pink woolly hat that looked as if it had been hand stitched by someone.
"Mr Snow! Is he your dog?" she questions curiously.
Jon did not trust himself to say anything so he just gave a nod. Sansa's mouth brightens into a wide smile looking down at Ghost who was looking adoringly up at her. Jon stared in disbelief as the dog who hated most of his friends and only tolerated his mother was acting smitten with Sansa.
"He's so cute. Aren't you boy. You're not scary at all with your red eyes," she whines in a high-pitched voice.
Ghost's tail wags happily.
"Whose Harry Hardyng?" he blurts out loudly.
Jon wishes he could take his words back as Sansa's head snaps up swiftly an expression of shock on her face which quickly turns into annoyance and disgust.
"How do you know him?" she exclaims narrowing her eyes up at him.
"Answer the question, Sansa. Who is he? Has he been bothering you?" Jon ardently questions.
Sansa's face hardens. "He's just a boy who won't take no for an answer."
This does not make Jon feel any better, if anything it makes him feel even angrier and more out of control.
"You don't need to be near him if he's bothering you, Sansa. If he is then you need to stay away from him, he could be dangerous," he fiercely argues.
A silence hangs over them, making Jon feel as if he has overstepped his boundaries. Letting out a sigh, he runs his right hand through his hair and opens his mouth to explain his words.
"I just meant that if he is bothering you, then you can talk to me and we'll do something about this. Okay?" he reassures.
She gives a nod. "I'll come to you if there is any trouble but I'm purely capable of taking care of myself thank you."
Jon finally feels calmer.
"So, what book are you reading then?" he changes the subject.
Her expression immediately brightens up in joy.
"It's an old classic. Pride and Prejudice. Have you read it, sir?"
Jon lets out a soft smile.
"Yes, I have read it. I rather enjoyed it even though most people claim it is a woman's novel. That reminds me. Have you thought about the extra tutoring session yet?" he sobers looking expectantly at her.
Sansa furrows her eyebrows looking thoughtful for a few seconds before nodding towards him. "Yes. I'd like to take on the extra session with you, Mr Snow."
"Sansa, we're not in school anymore more. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways seeing as if our mothers are friends. Call me Jon."
She lets out a smile.
"Okay…Jon."