Sauli:
Sitting around a circular table, Mr. Lambert and I were alone again in his class during another one of our tutoring sessions. I tapped my pencil impatiently against the stupid worksheet that made no sense. I stared hard at it, trying to clear my head, but instead, the words and numbers just morphed into an indecipherable code or alien language. I was leaning over the edge of beyond frustration. The silence in the room was deafening, apart from the ticking of the clock mocking me, driving me mad. I could feel Mr. Lambert's eyes on me from beside me, and that wasn't helping me focus in the slightest.
I just couldn't get this shit. I'd thought I'd been starting to pick up the pace, but I'd never been so wrong. Mr. Lambert had only been giving me apparently incredibly easy questions up until now, and I'd struggled with those for weeks. Then once they'd started to click, the jerk turned it all up a notch. I was getting to my breaking point.
The pencil tapping got faster and faster as I got more pissed off. Mr. Lambert's hand was suddenly on top of mine, stopping the obnoxious sound. I was hyper-aware of the heat of his hand completely covering mine. It snapped me out of my muddled thoughts.
"Stop that and focus," Mr. Lambert said seriously. "You've got this."
He pulled his hand away, taking the moment of clarity with him.
I just glared up at him before returning my attention to the problem. I let out a huff of frustration and pulled my fingers roughly through my hair as I propped up my elbow on the table, leaning over the sheet. I went through the steps I knew to take in my head again, but it didn't help. I thought I knew what to do, but these questions didn't follow the formula and steps in order, and they required actual thinking, an ability that I apparently didn't have. Why was he doing this to me? This was so embarrassing and I was just wasting his time sitting here wanting to die.
Tick… tick… tick…
I was going to go insane.
I couldn't think straight.
Tick… tick…
Even my breathing strained.
What in the hell was wrong with me?
It was just a chemistry question, for fuck's sake!
And yet…
Tick…
I lost it.
"Fuck this!" I yelled as I stood up abruptly, scraping the chair against the floor. "I can't do it!"
Mr. Lambert's tentative blue gaze up at me dissolved my rage. The pure disappointment in his eyes was unbearable. I'd rather he'd just yell and scream at me than sit there calmly and watch me make a fool out of myself as if I was nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum.
I groaned and turned away, unable to handle the weight of his look, and stormed my way out of the class, but not before unnecessarily shoving a student's desk out of my way as if that proved something. The desk collided with the one next to it loudly, and I could feel Mr. Lambert's piercing stare digging into my back as I left with my fists clenched by my sides. I didn't turn back to look at him. I never wanted to see that look on his face again.
I could easily strangle someone right now. I didn't know what got into me, but I knew I would not hesitate to scream and thrash and claw someone's face off if given the chance. I needed to cool down. I could hear my blood coursing through my veins, and a migraine was savagely beating into my stupid head.
To make matters worse, I had class with Mr. Lambert right after this. I couldn't bear to see him again in drama. Just imagining the horrid looks he'd send made me nauseous. Without a second thought, I marched right out of the school, ditched the rest of the day, and headed home. I knew he'd know what I did, but I didn't care. I'd deal with him later.
When I finally got home, I headed straight to my room, slammed the door shut, and crashed down onto my bed. I let out a frustrated and muffled scream into my pillow like a teenage girl, which actually helped cool off some steam. After I realized how ridiculous and melodramatic I was being, I already had tears streaming down my face, but at least I managed to calm down enough to think rationally and start over.
Instead of being a pathetic little baby like Mr. Lambert clearly thought I was, I decided to take matters into my own hands and work on this shit, not until I got something correct, but until I couldn't get one wrong. It was time to hit the books. I opened everything I normally ignored and sprawled out on my floor for hours just trying to understandchemistry for Mr. Lambert. I couldn't stand to see that horrible disappointment on his face again. I didn't want him to feel as if I was wasting his time. I just wanted to please him. I forced myself to make sense of what was going on, and by the end of my cramming, I wasn't as lost as I'd been earlier today.
Yet, a couple days later at our next tutoring session, it happened again.
"Here, just… let me show you again," Mr. Lambert sighed, taking my worksheet from me.
I groaned quietly, hating myself for my stupidity. I watched Mr. Lambert read over the question with tired eyes, and I couldn't help but feel guilty. I watched as he did the question himself, explaining every step simply and clearly, and making it look so damn easy. It was effortless for him, like asking anyone to recite the alphabet. It was humiliating.
He slid the completed question over to me, and hope laced his voice as he asked, "See?"
I blinked once, twice, three times at the worksheet. Mr. Lambert's impeccable handwriting and systematic instructions that would've been easy to follow for anyone else just started to bleed together in my mind. They slowly but surely morphed into gibberish the longer I tried to make sense of it all.
My throat felt thick as I shook my head slowly in reply to him, unable to trust my voice.
All at once, dread filled me. I was hopeless. This was never going to work.
"I'm sorry." My voice sounded defeated.
I couldn't look at him again as I swiftly stood up and started moving toward the door, my escape. The light coming in through the doorway beckoned to me, promising me sweet things if I left. Mesmerized, I moved forward toward it until a tall, well-dressed figure suddenly blocked out the light, obstructing my path to the exit. I blinked several times, snapping out of it, and looked up only to wince as Mr. Lambert glared down at me and crossed his arms.
"I'm not letting you skip class again," he said sternly. "I know I've been a bit too friendly with you, but that doesn't mean you get special treatment. You can't just come and go as you please."
Oh, fuck his teacher professionalism bullshit.
"Watch me," I said simply, irritation replacing my moping. I rolled my eyes as I attempted to shove him aside, not even caring about his status over me at this point.
Apparently, Mr. Lambert didn't care either, because as I reached up to push him aside, he grabbed my wrists in a tight grip and pushed me hard against the wall. I looked up at him in shock and he only glared down at me, still holding my wrists tightly to either side of my head.
"No," he practically hissed. "You're not leaving. If I have to physically force you to stay, I will. You're my responsibility until school ends."
The bastard was purposefully trying not to make this enjoyable for me. He kept his distance; he didn't press his body against mine. His arms were straight and locked, putting as much space between us as possible, but as much as I hated to admit it, this was so hot. My skin had burst into flames though the only parts of him touching me were his hands. Yet, just the heat from his hands and the dominance he was radiating was making my pants constrict a little too tightly for comfort.
I glared up defiantly at him, curling my hands into fists by my head. "And how exactly do you plan to keep me here?" I threw right back at him, wanting him to get angrier. "I dare you to try. I'll just sue you afterward because I'm sure this is illegal." I smirked, twisting my wrist in his grip to prove my point.
I looked into his eyes, searching past the irritation, hoping to see a hint of anything close to what I was feeling right now. Even if he didn't specifically like me in that way, he was still human, and desire was something that came naturally, especially when we were alone and he was this close to me. Just one time, I wanted him to forget his role and give in. He couldn't just be some lust-less robot. His devastatingly blue eyes held so much fiery emotion, so one of them had to be the one I wanted. I mean, he'd gotten hard against me before, for fuck's sake! He wanted me.
I had to be right, right?
Right.
I started to lean in, just slightly, hinting, hoping, and still looking into his eyes for any sort of change. His brow furrowed the tiniest bit in confusion, and then as I tried to take a step closer, he probably caught on when his eyes widened by a small degree. I closed my eyes, and that was when his grip on my wrists got tighter, but not for the reason I'd been hoping. Right on cue, Mr. Lambert suddenly let go of me with an angry, but gentle shove into the wall.
"Fine," he growled as he took a few steps back, not looking at me. "Go."
I was stunned. Just like that? He gave up? I didn't actually mean the whole suing thing. Was he actually afraid that I'd report him or was he seriously just a loveless wall?
I forced the rejection down my throat and ignored the way my wrists stung without his warmth. Silence took over the room. Mr. Lambert had turned away for whatever reason, and I couldn't see his face. My lips parted to say something, anything, but not a sound came out. Something told me that I was right to keep my mouth shut.
After a confused, longing glance at his tense back, I slowly and cautiously took the necessary steps to get out of Mr. Lambert's room, never taking my eyes off him. I was out of there speechless and dazed. Just like he'd allowed me to do, I escaped from the school, fighting back tears and ignoring the damn need in my pants the entire drive home.
The longer I dwelled on exactly what I'd tried to do, the more mortified I became. What possessed me to try to kiss him, my teacher? How could he ever forget this? I hoped that he didn't actually notice and had just pushed me away because I'd jokingly threatened him, but something told me that wasn't the case.
The next day during chemistry, when Mr. Lambert wouldn't even look at me, I just couldn't take his shit anymore.
"Why the fuck do we have to learn any of this?" I blurted aloud in class knowing fully well how passionate he was about it. "This class is bullshit. Completely useless."
Mr. Lambert stopped writing on the whiteboard. All heads except the one I'd been hoping for turned and jaws dropped, gasping at my outburst, but I wasn't done.
"You're wasting everyone's time," I muttered to him.
A swarm of defensive comments berated me, but I ignored the people in the class. My eyes were on Mr. Lambert's tense back muscles. He slowly turned around, mouth slightly parted, and he looked over at me with shock. When his eyes met mine, my gut felt empty as I saw the hurt in them. It pained me slightly to know I'd crossed a line and damaged any chance I'd had with him, but I couldn't will myself to care. I was being an asshole. Good.
"Excuse me?" Mr. Lambert threw right back.
The class went quiet, and then there was nothing but Mr. Lambert's eyes staying locked with mine; his eyes wide with shock and anger while mine were narrowed in defiance. I waited,no, challenged him to blow up at me, to scream and shout and completely lose his polished cool.
To my confusion and disappointment, that didn't happen. Mr. Lambert just walked over to his desk, albeit not as graceful as usual, sank down onto his chair, rested his elbows on the desk as he intertwined his hands under his chin.
"I'm waiting." He stared hard at me. "No comeback?"
I found my next string of insults stuck in my throat. I didn't say anything.
"Fine then," he said in a stiff tone. "Detention, after school." The class oohed. Mr. Lambert broke his eye contact to glare at them. "The rest of you, get to work on your assignments."
And that was it.
The entire rest of class, no one said a word. Everyone but me just worked on their sheets quietly, although I did receive several glares. The tension was palpable in the room.
I just sat there, dumbfounded, and stared at Mr. Lambert. He never looked up from his desk, eyes glued to who knows what as he scribbled on something. Did he even finish his lesson? What he had been writing on the board had cut off mid-sentence. I didn't get it. I couldn't have possibly shaken him to the point where he couldn't even teach. Any other teacher would have practically beaten my ass for those comments regardless of the consequences, but all this man gave me was a simple detention?
At lunch, I half-expected a certain someone to sit with me again, but he didn't even show up in the cafeteria. A few people noticed his absence as well and narrowed their eyes at me. I could hear my name whispered in several conversations. Great… as if I wasn't already hated enough. I knew I deserved it all though.
In drama, he showed up late, but at least he showed up. He didn't glance at me once, let alone say a word to me. Everyone noticed how off his voice sounded and how he looked completely drained of energy. All he did was give some simple instructions to the class and then he retreated to his desk for the entirety of the period, never looking up again. I went to the furthest corner in the class and said nothing too. No one asked us what was wrong. Everyone knew. God, I really did hurt him. I felt bad, and I hated myself for what I'd said, but I was also still so angry.
When detention came too quickly, I unwillingly trudged over to the chemistry room where Mr. Lambert was sitting in his desk, still as blank as ever. I hovered in the doorway while waiting for him to acknowledge me, which he never did, and I shook my head. He was unbelievable. I walked in and plopped down loudly into a front seat, dropping my backpack to the ground with as much noise as possible. I sighed loudly, fuming to myself. How long was he going to ignore me for? I felt like we were both being children, especially me.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered loudly.
"No talking," Mr. Lambert finally said, just loud enough for me to hear. He didn't even look up at me.
I kept forgetting that he was my teacher and had every right to punish me for what I'd said. I kept thinking of him as an equal, sometimes a friend, but that was my mistake, since he clearly focused on being the perfect teacher. It made my blood boil. What the fuck was he trying to prove and to whom? I'd seen him be human. I knew this was just a cover for him, a lie. I liked that personable version of him so much more than this damn preppy asshole. I missed how he'd talked to me like an old friend, how he'd hugged me, and how he'd let out the most musical sound when he laughed. This teacher sitting in front of me was not that man.
I sat there and silently fumed to myself, hating everything. After a while of awful silence, I felt frustrated tears overflow and run down my cheeks as I stared at my desk in shame. I guess Mr. Lambert looked up at me at some point because I heard a sigh, followed by the scraping of a chair. I didn't bother glancing up as I heard him approach the desk, not even when he kneeled and was at eye-level beside me. I was a child.
"Why the outburst in class?" Mr. Lambert asked quietly. "That's so unlike you."
I threw my hands outward in frustration. "Because!" I yelled, trying to think of reasons that I could actually say to him. "I keep trying, but I'm too much of an idiot to get any of it. It's pointless! I'll just fail chemistry. I won't need it anyway. And you… ugh! You keep wasting your time trying to help. It's embarrassing!"
Mr. Lambert didn't say anything for a minute, not until the second I spared a look at him. "You're not an idiot," he said, smiling just slightly in encouragement. He still managed to be kind and calming to me when I was such a little bitch to him. So perfect. Too perfect. Fuck him. "And, I like spending time with you. Well… at least I did."
"Why?" I asked, forcing myself not to yell out the question. Why exactly? What reason could he possibly have to enjoy being near me when all I did was complain?
He pondered that for a moment before replying, "Because it's fun to teach chemistry and to watch you, as my student, improve, which you have." Oh, not this proper teacher shit again.
I rolled my eyes and groaned, "There you go again."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow in question.
"You're twenty-two," I reminded him. "Why do you talk to me like you're an old bat?"
Mr. Lambert's face turned serious. "I'm your teacher. It's how I'm supposed to be. It's just one aspect of the boundary that you forget often, that you need to start respecting."
"Oh…" I mumbled lamely, not liking where he was going with this.
Mr. Lambert paused and then bit his lip, thinking hard. "I know you're… curious, but I'm not the one you should be directing that to." I paled. Oh god. This wasn't happening. "I need you to make sure that you'll stop any inappropriate ideas you may have and find an outlet elsewhere."
Bam. That was his version of, 'I'm not interested, kid. It's never going to happen,' which meant that he totally knew that I wanted him, even when not drunk, and it was bothering him enough that he actually had to reject me. That was his idea of letting me down gently.
I was mortified. My face completely drained of all color as I stared at him, unable to find my voice. He was waiting for a reply, but I just didn't know what to say. Was I supposed to apologize? That would just confirm his suspicion. Was I supposed to deny his claim? Then I'd be lying and he'd see right through me. Was I supposed to disappear from existence? I wish.
He sighed when it was clear he wasn't getting a verbal response from me. He just went on instead. "As for what you said in class today, that was seriously uncalled for and highly disrespectful, and I know you know that. You're better than that. It can't happen again, do you understand?"
I nodded jerkily, still mute.
"Good," he said simply before he stood up, towering over me before heading back to his desk.
I was speechless. I didn't know he was capable of such authoritative intimidation. It made the lump in my throat only grow. I just sat there, eyes stinging, refusing to speak, until detention was over a half hour later. The time finally came and I'd had some time to think about how unfair I'd been to him.
Look at what he was doing to me. I was constantly angry and acting like a hormonal teenage girl. That wasn't me, but for some reason, he triggered this. I acted like an explosive little bitch, which had never happened before in my life. I was cruel and manipulative. He was just trying to help me…
Mr. Lambert got up from his chair and waited by the door. "You may go," he stated.
I sighed and picked up my backpack before standing up and staring at the ground as I shuffled lethargically over to where Mr. Lambert leaned by the door with his arms crossed.
"I'm so sorry…" I mumbled as I reached him.
I was sorry for everything. I needed to get over him and let him do his job, and I especially needed to shut my mouth in class. I was probably the one downer of his day every time he came to school.
"I forgive you," I heard Mr. Lambert say gently. I glanced up to see him smiling subtly, but warmly, and his stone-hard eyes had become genuine and inviting again. Even his arms had uncrossed and relaxed by his sides. "Don't forget about our next session."
"What?" I asked, confused.
His tired smile grew. "Did you think I was giving up on you?"
My eyes starting to sting again, but for an entirely different reason this time. He believed in me more than I actually did.
Before I could convince myself that it was a bad idea, I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around Mr. Lambert's solid body. I hugged him tight, pressing my cheek against his chest. He smelled amazing and was like the warmth and cosiness felt when napping next to a fireplace.
He tensed within my arms, and I was sure that he was going to push me away and scold me again, but to my relief, he relaxed after a long, suspenseful moment, and his arms enveloped me. He allowed grateful hugs, apparently. I clutched him tighter, smiling and sighing contently into his pressed shirt, glad to feel that he could still be human underneath that ridiculous teacher persona.
"I'm sorry," I repeated firmly into his chest, and I felt his arms squeeze a little tighter around me.
My eyes flashed open when I thought I felt soft lips press lightly into my hair before disappearing as quickly as they'd appeared.
I didn't just imagine that, did I?
