Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

She's staring at me. I act as though I'm paying attention to the fascinating lesson on parabolas and derivatives, when really I'm exhausting every ounce of self-control I have left to not look her in the eye and relive our actions of the past month. It's a dangerous game she's playing, and I know I don't want to be caught, although that just entices me more, adds to the thrill. The danger of having someone find us is what brings me back for more, but sometimes I think I just might be falling in love with her. It's when I think of the developing feelings I have that I wish we will get caught, that there will be no more sneaking around, but that can never happen. Too much pain and heartache will be caused by this truth. I was always told the truth will set things right, that good things come of it, how I wish that applied to me. In my life the truth has always destroyed things I value, the truth ended my last relationship, it destroyed the relationship of my parents, and it totally ruined any holiday associated with a make believe character, so really how could the truth ever be any good to me. Telling the truth now would only further damage the delicate state of my life right now and it would further destroy the lives of those around me not to mention many relationships. I guess that means I'll be sneaking around as long as she wants me.

It's not so bad though. I finally meet her gaze through the classroom door's window and wonder if it's even me she's looking at, I look beside me and notice she's having some sort of a glaring contest with the person seated two seats down from me, it's times like these that I'm glad my mom doesn't ever have to speak with the headmaster, poor Marissa, the receiving end of the look isn't a pretty place to be, luckily I get more of a lusty gaze than a fierce stare. And I'm definitely used to those gazes, I mean I am a water polo player.