Chapter 4 - Don't Forget
Bella's POV:
I contemplated running away from this school, thought about it all night long until I finally fell asleep. Then all I could dream of was him. The Asshole. Fucking gym teacher with his perfect face, voice and body…a bad heart and missing soul. Part of me wondered if there was something I could do that would at least make him not hate me anymore. But how could he hate me already, I just got here ! And what is my crime, not being good at volleyball ?! He's a teacher, he's never seen a nerd before ?! What the fuck ? He's supposed to TEACH not just watch while everyone plays perfectly !
I thought about saying something to him, maybe privately, ask him what he wants from me. But just thinking of it made my skin crawl.
What can he do to me, anyway ? Give me detention, that's about it. The next day when I arrived at gym class, I saw the little black haired girl again. I smiled and waved to her but she froze in place and then ran away. What the hell's with her ?
I was in my gym clothes and decided I couldn't put it off any longer. Maybe yesterday laying on the gym floor was the worst thing he could do to me. Maybe today would be better, I hoped. But then I never get what I hope for.
I didn't see the little black haired girl in her spot on the floor sitting with the rest of us. Did I do something to her ?
Then Mr. Cullen's footsteps were approaching and we all tensed up. I SAW it in all the other girls for the first time. Maybe he's cruel to all of us, not just me.
He came into view and had the little black haired girl by the ear. His two finger just pinched around her earlobe. She was up on her tiptoes as he ushered her inside, releasing her and hissing, "Sit."
What the fuck ?
She took her spot fast and rubbed her ear as Mr. Cullen looked right at me. I couldn't help but feel I was scowling back at him. I didn't DECIDE to, I just was ! I have a hard time hiding it when I don't like someone. I guess he does too.
"Ladies.", he announced, crossing his muscular arms, "Since we have a misfit in our midst, it seems we have to hold ourselves back again and teach another student the basics of volleyball. It's not fair to any of you but since when has life been fair ?"
I knew he was talking about me. He eyed me for a second and closed his eyes as if repulsed by my very presence.
"I trust we can all assist Miss Swan in her quest to not suck.", he pinched the bridge of his perfectly shaped nose, "So we'll split up into groups of two each…no net…just set the balls back and forth to each other."
He blew his whistle loudly and everyone ran off in different directions. I followed the little black haired girl and glanced as Mr. Asshole went to the side of the court, watching a few of the other girls. He nodded to one of them as if she asked him something and then they all started just hitting the ball back and forth real lightly to each other.
I could do that, I told myself. Maybe this guy is really gonna give me a chance to learn this, I thought with a new sense of relief.
"Hi.", I waved to the black haired girl, "Can I be your partner ?"
"Sure.", she smiled, swallowing. He just had her by the ear, maybe we could bond in our mutual hate of this guy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend you know…
She looked behind her at Mr. Cullen and then back to me. She had a volleyball in her hand and got a few feet away from me.
"This is real easy, Bella.", she said my name, "Just relax and tap the ball with your fingers open like this."
I guess they all know my name since Mr. Asshole has been screaming it for the last two days.
She showed me and she made it look so easy.
I felt a lot more at ease now and I opened my hands up, and I did hit it back to her.
She caught it and her face lit up, laughing at herself.
"Hit it up, okay Bella ?", she asked, "Like this"
She hit it and made it go high in the air, but still coming over to me.
"In volleyball, hitting it up high is important, it gives other people on your team a chance to get under it and take their turn. You know ?" she asked.
I love this girl, she's a great teacher. Well if Mr. Asshole wont' do his job I guess the other girls would.
"Oh okay.", I nodded, and we started to practice that.
"Sorry, I don't know YOUR name.", I felt embarrassed to admit this.
"Alice.", she grinned, hitting the ball up and back to me.
"Relax…", she coached me as it came my way, "Don't think just get under it…"
I did and hit it back up towards her spot. I felt like I just won a million dollars.
"See ? You can do it.", she grinned proudly, then in a lower voice, "Don't let anyone make you nervous."
I turned and peeked at him but he wasn't paying any attention to us. And he was far out of earshot. Maybe I could find out what this guy's problem was.
"Why does he hate me so much ?" I found myself asking her already, "Why ? Just because I can't play ?"
"Focus Bella…", she looked uncomfortable and I missed the ball. I went after it, looking at Mr. Cullen again and he still wasn't looking. Maybe he would get off my ass now a little bit.
"Sorry.", I felt my face go hot as I threw the ball up into the air over my head then as it came down I hit it with both my palms up. It went to her like before and I was already happier with myself.
"Mr. Cullen just wants all of us to be good players.", she said flatly, hitting the ball back lightly.
"Well okay but does that mean he has to HATE me for it ?" I asked, hitting the ball back.
"He's very intense.", she gave a little shiver. It was very slight but I noticed it. She had already said that about him before.
"What does that MEAN ?", I shook my head, missing the ball and going after it.
When I came back Alice was looking sadly at Mr. Cullen and he glared at her. I caught that too.
"He can't hear you.", I said to her, "Are you afraid of him too?"
"Isn't everybody ?" she said in a whisper, "Keep playing, Bella, he'll come over."
Oh right. I quickly hit the ball again to her, hopping off the floor a little.
"Feet stay on the ground, Swan.", his voice was suddenly close behind me and I jumped with a yelp.
"JESUS !", I heard it come out of my mouth loudly before I could stop it.
"Guess again.", he walked slowly past us, "And watch your mouth, you're not in church."
I was about to ask him what his problem was…but nothing came out.
"The proper response is yes Mr. Cullen.", he said behind me.
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", I said like a robot, holding the ball and waiting for him to go away.
"Serve it, Swan, let me see…", he stood behind me, waiting his arms crossed magnificently.
Fuck.
Alice put her hands up and nodded to me, waiting.
I threw the ball up and as it came down to me I went to hit it with both hands but one hand got there before the other. The ball bounced and went way over to the left, smacking into the back of another taller girl there.
"HEY", she turned and gave me a dirty look.
"Zero.", he snapped, "Not only your grade for the last 3 days but my assessment of YOU Miss Swan."
He regarded Alice and muttered, "You have my sympathy."
He walked away to observe other girls as I went to get my ball and it was thrown at me by the girl I'd hit. I dropped that too and had to chase it down before coming back to Alice, who looked real sorry for me.
"Sorry.", I nearly cried right in front of her.
"It's not your fault, you were doing great before he came over.", she informed, "You're just letting him get into your head."
"Well how can I NOT ?", I hissed under my breath at her, "He had me laying face down on the floor yesterday!"
"It could be so much worse.", she shared, "Believe me."
Oooh dirt ! Spill !
"Why ?", I asked, hitting the ball to her now, "Did he do something to YOU ?"
"Ummm…", she hit the ball back, "I'd rather not talk about that right now…"
"Oooh there is something.", I smiled a little, "Come on, tell. Maybe I won't feel personally attacked if I hear some other Mr. Cullen stories."
Just then I heard Mr. Cullen say, "Oh sweet Christ, tell me this isn't happening."
I thought he was talking to me again but he was standing next to the doorway of the gym and a pretty girl walked in, wearing gym clothes. She was chewing gum and said to Mr. Cullen, "Mr. Cullen, my study hall got moved and they told me to come here from now on this period."
"Miss Nickles.", he gave a fake smile and looked her over, coming over and taking the slip of paper out of her hand, clicking his pen and signing it, "I'm honored."
"Who's that ?", I smiled, liking it that she was getting under his skin almost as much as I had.
She was very pretty with long curls of blonde hair and straight bangs. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore lots of makeup. She chomped on her big wad of gum and was playing with a lock of her hair.
"Jackie Nickles", Alice recognized her, "Not a great person. Everyone calls her Nickles because the rumor is you can have her for five cents. Guys AND girls…"
Damn. Daddy issues.
"Where should I go ?", she asked with no fear at all.
"Please make me don't answer that question.", his eyes were stern and black, and his two fingers held up her pass between them, giving it back to her.
"What ?", she chomped and squinted at him. I was enjoying this a lot.
"Spit that shit out of your mouth.", he looked like he was about to slap her.
She spit it on the gym floor and everyone was watching now, not hitting their balls anymore.
He looked at her like she just shit on his shoes.
"Are you suicidal ?" he growled, his eyes wider.
"Bad question to ask in this school.", I whispered to Alice as she gave a weak little grin.
"Pick it up now.", he demanded.
"You just told me to spit it out !", she whined, "I wasted three good pieces of juicy fruit !"
"I give a fuck.", he frowned, "Get it off my floor."
"Language, Mr. Cullen." , I said with my hand over my mouth so he couldn't know it was me heckling him. Alice shot me a look of fright, whispering, "Bella, no."
A couple other girls laughed and he looked absolutely EVIL in that moment.
"Why is no one practicing HERE ?!", he shouted at us and everyone started to play again, "We can do this now or at 4 o'clock for five more hours !"
Alice and I started doing our volley thing but everyone kept watching them.
"Did I stutter ?", he went back to the blonde girl, "Get it off !"
"How ?" she dared to ask, her voice super annoying.
He clenched his eyes shut and composed himself a little, sneering, "Bend down and pick it up. Get every sticky shitty piece of it off my floor."
She bent down and hesitated.
"I just did my nails.", she argued back.
Oh my God. I know it's wrong but I am so happy right now. I felt bad for her, not wanting to see anyone else being crapped on but this girl didn't even seem to care how he was reacting to her. I could watch this all day.
He just glared back at her.
"Okay I'll just fuck up my nails…", she muttered to herself, bending down and grabbing most of the wad of gum. She picked it up and half of it stuck, a long string of sugary gum snot rose up with it.
"You are making a mess, Miss Nickles.", he said to her as I turned away, laughing to myself.
Miss Nickles might be the answer to my prayers. Maybe now the heat would come off me a little.
"I can't help it, it's GUM!", she kept trying to pick it all up, "It sticks, that's it's whole purpose."
"It seems the gum has something you don't , Miss Nickles.", he shot back.
"Whatever.", she rolled her eyes at him.
"Stop it, stop it !", he was shouting at her as I held in a big belly laugh, "Go into the locker room, get a bucket and water, soap ! Come back and clean that shit up!"
"Ugghhhhh", she stomped away, muttering to herself, "I have this crap all over my nails now…"
"MISS SWAN !", he bellowed at me and I spun around, terrified.
"What ?", I asked, not as politely as I should've.
"Come here !", he motioned me over with his finger.
I felt sick but I went to him anyway.
"Yes Mr. Cullen ?", I tried to be nice. He looked really mad.
"Help your twin sister clean that up.", he ordered, "She probably can't figure out the formula for soap and water in there."
"Why ?", I asked, frowning, "I didn't do anything."
"That's what it will say on your tombstone, Miss Swan.", he agreed, "But go anyway."
I huffed and went after Miss Nickles. How did this shit backfire on ME ?
"Alice, keep setting the ball on your own.", he shouted at her now as I went into the locker room, looking for her.
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", she said submissively.
She was sitting there playing with her nails when I found her.
"Are you nuts ?" I asked her, "He's gonna kill us both !"
"Who are you ?", she asked with an attitude.
"Your twin sister, let's go.", I found a janitor's bucket and filled it up with hot water, looking for soap.
"I'M WAITING !", he bellowed, the floor almost shaking.
"Where's soap ?!", I looked around, finding ajax in a closet, pouring that in, "Close enough. Come on !"
She slowly got up and followed me back out there. The water sloshed around in the bucket as I realized I had no sponge or rag of any kind.
"I'm very impressed.", he said flatly as we came in.
"I forgot to get a sponge.", I admitted.
"Shocking. You don't need one, just clean it with your hands.", he stood over the gummy spot.
I squatted down and he said, "On your hands and knees, the two of you."
I looked up at him and he was staring at me.
"Problem, Miss Swan ?", he asked me calmly.
"No.", I got down on the hard floor, taking a handful of water into my hand and wetting the gum, trying to ball it up with my very plain fingernails.
"Where are you Miss Nickles ?!", he asked her, "You brought this crap in here, get down."
"Mr. Cullen, my nails are all sticky !" she got down on hands and knees next to me.
"I'll call 911.", he crossed his arms, watching us.
"Use those long nails to scrape the shit off !", he instructed her.
"No way !", she squealed.
Finally, we had managed to clean it all off…mostly me but we got it done.
When I came back, he ordered both I and Miss Nickles to run laps around the volleyball court.
"Now.", he blew his whistle at us.
"Mr. Cullen, my ankle hurts.", Miss Nickles complained, "I was dancing the other night and…"
"I said run laps.", he barked, daring her to say another word.
Later in the period was no better. He got so mad at Miss Nickles that he had the whole class exercising. We were tired and sweating by mid period but he kept pushing us further.
"Come on, Nickles, put some kind of effort into it please.", Mr. Cullen almost whined as he walked along the row of 17 year old girls doing their jumping jacks.
"Mr. Cullen, don't yell at me." Miss Nickles said in her little girl voice, "I'm doing the best I can, and my ankle hurts."
"Awww.", Mr. Cullen replied, giving sarcastic pity, ignoring her hurt expression, "Poor baby."
She didn't say anything to him but still his expression was strange, as if he heard her say something so vile that he couldn't speak. Then a moment later, he found his voice.
"Two laps, Nickles.", Mr. Cullen snapped his fingers, not turning around to face her.
"I didn't do anything!" she squealed in protest.
His jaw tensed. He turned to her, moving his sunglasses down his eyes to reveal them and said, "That's why you're taking 4 laps now."
"FOUR?!" she howled, getting the attention of all the other girls now, all exercising came to a screeching halt.
"Everybody KEEP WORKING HERE!" Mr. Cullen demanded, making the rest focus again quickly, arms moving up and down across his gaze, feet bouncing up and down.
"Miss Nickles, do what I told you or get out." Mr. Cullen sneered at her, his eyes hidden from her by the black sunglasses.
"I HATE YOU!" she started running around the track of the gym, little tears starting to form and she muttered about him to herself.
"I'm devastated.", he said with a monotone voice.
"Okay enough." Mr. Cullen blew his whistle with two short blows, making them all sit down on the floor, Indian style.
Miss Nickles began to come over to the group to take her seat on the floor. Without looking up from his clipboard, Mr. Cullen said, "I didn't say YOU were done, keep running."
"I can't run anymore, my ankle!" she complained, standing there, staring at the back of his head, and it seemed the sight of his perfect hair made her angrier.
"That's very funny, Miss Nickles.", Edward said, "But it's me who'll have the last laugh when you can't fit into your prom dress this summer due to lack of exercise."
"I'm reporting you!" she yelled, standing her ground, her arms crossed in a huff, waiting for his reaction.
"I'm very frightened, please stop." he said as calmly as a machine, not making eye contact with her, saying to us, "Leg lifts ! 50 !"
Everyone started groaning, even me. Shut up Nickles, you're killing us.
"What ?!", Mr. Cullen shouted. Everyone shut right up, lifting their legs off the floor, then back down again, on their backs.
"HEY!" Jackie shouted at him, everyone else coming to a halt, watching.
"Miss Nickles," Edward made his voice venomous, watching us exercise, "If you continue to disrupt my class, I will be forced to do something I really don't want to do. I advise you to desist."
"What does that mean?" she asked loudly, causing Mr. Cullen's face to tighten more than usual.
"One of the finest, most expensive schools in North America," he muttered, shaking his head, "She doesn't know the word desist…thank God I'm only a gym teacher and not the English teacher…"
"Mr. Cullen!" she kept going, coming up closer behind him, and before she knew it, she shoved him from the back. But his body did not budge; it was like shoving a brick wall.
"OW", she squealed, her fingers felt jammed. She tried to uncurl them a bit, to massage them, throbbing in pain.
"That's it.", Mr. Cullen spun around with the grace of a cat and with one motion grabbed her long blonde hair near the scalp, yanking it back roughly.
She screamed, getting laughter from all the other girls who equally loathed her. Mr. Cullen was quickly leading her by the hair away from the others, to the far south end of the gymnasium.
He gritted his teeth, keeping in control, and said, "Rest your ankle. See you tomorrow."
At this, he threw her into the supply closet, crashing her into a bag of basketballs. His hand spun as he turned the lock that sealed her inside, a little grin on his lips.
She gave a loud scream inside, shouting, "It's fucking dark! You can't lock me IN HERE !"
"I just did.", he tossed back as he turned away from the door.
"Back to work, ladies.", he seemed unaffected as he walked towards the rest of us. Alice told me after class that he would let her out, that it was all okay. Then she said Miss Nickles, or Jackie, her first name, was always trying to get a rise out of Mr. Cullen.
"I think she has a crush on him.", Alice smirked, "But he never gives her the time of day and that pisses her off. All the boys pay attention to her so when HE doesn't…she has…anger issues. She'll be alright."
But she wasn't in class the next day…or the day after that…or ever. I never saw her again. Maybe he transferred her out of this class. Maybe she was suspended or expelled. There could have been a lot of explanations…but still it made me feel a little eerie. I told myself I was being stupid. And after a few days, I forgot about her completely. We all did.
The next couple of days went by…dragging like life always did. Flat, boring, colorless…even with this whole new place I was stuck in….I hated how nice and wonderful all my teachers seemed. My Spanish teacher, Mr. Rivera, a very down to earth middle aged guy, who stood out in the hallway and introduced himself to me personally that first day, who all the kids knew and said, "What's up Mr. Rivera ?!" to…he even cracked jokes and told stories about his own life. I really liked him. But then I didn't. I was intent not to like anything here.
Then there was English literature….ahhh literature…my favorite. The teacher there was also a man, Tim Staley…a decent looking guy with short brownish gray hair, curled back…his nose a little big but not overly so. Maybe in his 40's. He has scruff around his chin and the very first day of school he made this great speech:
"In first grade, somebody taught you how to read. And as soon as that teacher thought that you could read, they started using it against you. And made you read a story and answer questions. Made you read and asked where to put the periods and commas, and they made you write a story and do it in that same style. So never have you been given the opportunity to just enjoy reading for what it is, which is story at the heart. Story. And humans DO like stories. And it's so funny that when students get to English class, turns out they have a hard time liking the story. And boy do English teachers TRY hard. They flap their little teacher wings and they talk about how much all the students are gonna love this book, they might even do some anticipation guides or show youtube videos or play jazz to get kids ready for Great Gatsby. And maybe the kids ARE excited, maybe a kid is thinking this will be the book that speaks to me. And then the moment comes when the students get out the books, and the teacher says, "okay kids, let's open our books" and then 60 % of the kids have been lost at that moment. We've lost the kids.
I've taught Lord of the Flies…and this is written by a white dude from the 1950's…his language is a little bit stilted, they talk in a weird way, like Piggy says "You can't have swim well…" so there's some strange talk in there, and underneath all that language, under the metaphors and jungle stuff, there IS a really great story in there. But very few kids get to be excited about that story. I'm a 43 year old guy I get now that Lord of the Flies is (he says in a mocking adult voice) A GREAT PIECE of LITERATURE THAT SHOULD BE RESPECTED…but I also understand that as a teenager I thought it was boring, stilted, lame, I thought it was inaccessible. Now for the history of teachers, teachers have been forcing this stuff on kids forever. Thinking that kids will like it. Teachers have been told to build relationships with kids and then right away we stab them in the back with it…with stuff from dead white guys. I know I'm asking a lot asking you to read. I know it. And what I want to do is let's hear the story. Let's remove the writing, the language, the amazing metaphors, and the descriptive language, and all the things that most teachers flap their little wings about…let's remove it. I want to tell the story to my students. Tell a story. Look them in the eye. "
He grabbed the paperback book in his hands and flipped the pages with his thumb.
"This right here…", he announced, "Is DEAD. This is a DEAD document. It's dead, it's a tree that was alive maybe 100 years ago but it's dead now. And the book you're looking at are dead. So I am initiating a DEAD activity when I have students sit there with their eyes on the book, what I've done is I've CUT the relationship and I've broken the trust and the friendship…and I've broken…the LIFE. So I'm gonna look you in the eye, and I'm gonna tell you the story. The story. After I've told you the story, THEN we can do close reading, then we can do essays, we can do all that other English class stuff…but WHY can't we have that story for what it is, as if we were all around a campfire before books were born, before books but after cavemen…and we're around a fire and the troubadour comes, the storyteller comes…and he looks people in the eye and tells them a story and they liked it. And that can be our English class too…I'm not gonna get you to read a story to get you excited about it just to betray you in the end by killing that story with work."
Great, huh ?
I could have a crush on Mr. Staley…if he wasn't 100…
And then there was History class…
Oh my God where do I begin ?
This was also a man…most of the teacher were men here I noticed…not sure why. Maybe at an all girls school they needed some testosterone.
This guy, Mr. Greg Michaels, was in his thirties, bald, with a black beard and mustache, and he was the equivalent of a stand up comic.
"Right out of college," he shared on day one with us, "They said, you're gonna teach sex ed…"
We all laughed and he looked around with bugged out eyes and said, "Cause you know, their philosophy those who CAN'T…."
He got a big laugh on that one.
"You gonna have the lunch lady teach health class, too ?", he asked, "What's goin on here ?"
"This is world history, world history..", he announced, "I like teaching history it give me a chance to teach you guys things you never thought of before…"
"Like for instance," he shared, "They didn't call it World War I at the time. That would've been super pessimistic..right ? There's gonna be a bunch of these…this is the first one. We'll just see what happens. Anyone knows what they called it back then ?"
Silence.
And then one girl in the back blurted out, "The Great War."
"That's right.", he pointed at the girl in back, "Very good, Miss Harris."
"That's like me saying, here, meet my wife, wife number one…", he put an arm around the air beside him, the girls all laughing.
"Gonna be a bunch of these…", he joked, getting laughs, "Or I could call her the Great Wife…or the wife to end all wives…"
"I'm not doing that again."
"Also teaching History means we can discuss race issues, which is very important in our country right now…", he continued, "I also recognize…"
He pointed at his face and went in a circle around him, "Not really the right guy to do it."
The girls were really enjoying him and so was I.
"Super bald, super white dude…mmm mmmm", he shook his head, his eyes larger, opening his collar, "I'm one neck tattoo away from a hate crime right now."
"This guy teaching about race ? No way !", he chuckled.
"It's always the wrong people who get on their high horse about race, though, isn't it ?", he went on, "It's like the suburban white soccer moms…who say 'I don't SEE color', Well that's because you live in UTAH."
More laughing.
"I don't see color…", he repeated, "Yes you do, and it's okay, just don't judge people based on what you see…that's all. No no no…I'm color blind…No you're not…because you know what you see when you're color blind ?"
"Black and white…" some girls called out and he gave a nod.
"BLACK AND WHITE!", he agreed, holding out an arm, "Being color blind just makes Asians gray !"
Everyone was howling now…
"But uh…", he said, "You can still tell ! You guys did well with that one, yea, good."
"I love my students, an appropriate amount…", he put his hands up, innocently, "You ever met that teacher who's like I LOVE KIDS! Okay, back up…"
"I love my students…", he repeated, "They have some weird names which can be kind of awkward…some weird names, parents giving out weird names…which is great, but just don't get mad at me if I can't pronounce or spell your weird name…a girl got mad at me last year because I misspelled her name on the board. Her name was Rose. Can't misspell that, right ?
This girl got up and she said, yea, it's R – O – Z – E !"
He imitated the girl like a diva with attitude.
"Well I'm pretty sure your parents were wrong.", he said, "It looks like when they had YOU they made TWO mistakes."
We were dying now. This guy was great.
"Oh you guys don't give standing ovations for great jokes ? Okay…", he asked, disappointedly.
"Another kid his name was spelle N. ",he spelled it out, "Like Gaggin on…"
"Like you alright man ? What are you gaggin on ?"
"Then once a girl said his name and said 'Gonyun, come here'… and I said DUDE…I've been calling you Gaggin on for nine months ! You didn't say ANYTHING! He went 'I thought you were being a jerk!' I said 'I thought your parents were WEIRD ! I don't know !'"
"No one knows how to spell anymore either, it's sad…", he went on, "Like last year I asked my students to write about what they wanted to do in the future after high school and a bunch of kids were like "I don't want to but my parents are making me…I'm defiantly going to COLLAGE !"
He paused, the laughs still loud.
"Oh you're going to angrily do arts and crafts for your future ?", he asked, "Your parents are making you go into that line of work ? Is that the plan, Leslie ?"
"I can tell some of you are going 'I don't get it….I have no idea what he's talking about…" he pointed out and I did laugh at that one too.
"No you're not going to college…no…", he shook his head, "Maybe COMMUNITY COLLAGE ! But not a real…maybe Utah state or something…but not…like Harvard…"
My science teacher was a super hot guy named Zach Ranz. Holy crap ! His tan skin and jet black hair matched his beard and mustache, nicely groomed. His eyes were dark brown and smile colgate white ! Super toned body from that I could tell, a shirt and tie, loosely arranged, with gray jeans on…this guy had it all. In his twenties, he had energy and passion too, for teaching.
I would quote you on all that he was saying to us on that first day…but I honestly blurred out most of what he was saying because I was in the haze of attraction while he spoke.
He was telling us how in high school he did track, cross country, sports….he was an athlete. So his coach was teaching him about nutrition, sleep, blah blah blah…then he kept working to get bigger and stronger….great now I was picturing him working out…
More of his story went by in a blur and then he was talking about in college he wanted to go to medical school, blah blah blah…all in all his story brought him back to him becoming a science teacher…I discovered something important. Hot does not equal interesting. This guy was boring. No jokes, no good stories even it was all about him. Ukk… all the girls had been listening to him like I was a moment before…but now they were all starting to fall asleep it seemed.
Mr. Ranz didn't even notice. He just kept going.
When I got to my group therapy, there was a new person running that class.
It was a tall man with very blonde hair. When he turned around I almost fell over.
DAMMMNNNNN I heard my inner voice exclaim.
This guy was FIINNNNNEEEEE. Ice blue eyes and very pale skin, very pink lips and kind eyes.
"Everyone take a seat.", he offered politely as we all came in.
"My name is Dr. Carlisle.", he smiled warmly, sitting in the circle with us, "I'll be your guide through group therapy. The reason we have the chairs in a circle is simple. There is no one in charge here, I'm not in charge, I'm not the teacher. I'm here for you. I want to help. We are all equals here, no one is better than anyone else. In olden times, they arranged the chairs in a circle for the same reason."
No one said a word, I think this is where all the screwed up girls were that I was looking for in my classes. My people.
"Today I want to talk about guilt.", he began, "I want to talk about…where does our guilt come from ?"
"How would you answer that, if it were like a test question, ", he asked, "Where does your guilt come from ?"
I couldn't believe it but my voice answered.
"The past.", I croaked out. My eyes widened at myself.
"Good.", Dr. Carlisle smiled at me, "The past…thank you….?"
He was asking for my name.
"Bella.", I said meekly, crossing my arms.
"Bella, thank you.", he said smoothly, his blue eyes glinting a bit, "What about others of you? What else makes you feel guilty ?"
"Things you've done…or haven't done…", another girl chimed in, trying to steal from my answer.
"Okay…", Dr. Carlisle gave a nod, "Excellent…"
"Religion ?", another girl asked quietly," And my mom…"
"Yes, very good.", he looked at that girl, "A lot of others have that feeling about Mom…"
I saw my mother's face flash in my mind and I immediately squashed it down. Not here.
"Mine's kinda…", one very pretty girl with long red hair said, "Not being a good Mom."
Dr. Carlisle didn't look shocked that she was a mother at her age. Man…I thought I had problems.
"Okay.", he said supportively.
"Anybody else ?" Dr. Carlisle asked calmly.
A girl with black hair in a ponytail said, "The accident I had…a kid ended up in a wheelchair…"
Shit. I was not the most screwed up girl here I thought and immediately felt badly about thinking that.
"Jane, how about you ?", Dr. Carlisle asked one girl with blonde hair.
"Not being a good friend.", she answered then rolled her eyes after Dr. Carlisle looked down for a second.
Another girl who had not spoken yet was an Asian girl with short, straight hair in a cute barrette.
"Lia, how about you ?",he asked her, sitting right beside him.
"Ummm", she looked shy, "Now that I'm in America…I feel like I have to make sure to keep my heritage, my culture…like…my parents are afraid that I'll not want to come back to Taiwan anymore…and want to stay here."
"Good!", Dr. Carlisle nodded, "Did everyone get a chance to speak ?"
He looked around and then said, "Well, you see how these things…our past, our religions, our mothers, our accidents…we are raised to believe that these events that go on in our lives, cause our feelings…that's this causes our guilt. But I want to tell you something….and I learned this in my early twenties…and it helped me a lot…and here's the idea. These events and these things don't actually CAUSE how we feel. Is that a new concept to you ?"
A couple of the others said 'yea.'
"So if they're not causing how we feel, here's what causes it :", he folded his hands in his lap, "It's our self talk. It's what we tell ourselves about these situations or events…and this is the best news you could ever receive , because if you learn how your self talk controls how you feel, then you can control how you feel. And I know a lot of you have struggled with large amounts of guilt…so if we can understand what we tell ourselves then we can change it, we can control our thoughts."
I liked the concept of that but rejected it for myself.
"Let's take for example…", Dr. Carlisle motioned to the girl to my left, "Kate…the car accident…what do you tell yourself on a daily basis…about that car accident ? And we'll go around the room and do this with each of you but…what do you tell yourself about that ?"
Oh no you are NOT going around the room and getting me to talk about my shit here in front of all these people , I heard my inner voice say.
"Umm…", she looked around but then coughed and started to speak, "I should've known better. That…my life…as I know it…is over. Everything is messed up. And I'll never be able to get over this."
I felt a lump in my throat. I've had those same thoughts…every single day.
I stared at my sneakers as Dr. Carlisle spoke, his voice gentle.
"And Kate, you tell yourself that every day …you get out of bed and start saying this to yourself every day. You run that message in your head. Now if we can change what Kate is saying to herself, then we can change the guilt that she's feeling. Now I'm not saying we can make Kate feel GOOD about the car accident, right…but do you think it's possible that Kate is telling herself some stuff that's not quite accurate that might be leading to her increased feeling of guilt…"
"Like, this one…", the kind doctor went on, "I'll never be able to get over this. Kate…if you keep telling yourself that…you're going to be trapped forever in this guilt…but let me ask this…and I want you, Kate, to watch while I ask this to the group…how many of you think that Kate COULD get over this and move beyond it ?"
I raised my hand and hoped all the other girls would too. They all did. Dr. Carlisle smiled warmly at Kate as her head bent down.
"Look at that, Kate.", he tried to engage her, trying to see into her face, "They think it's possible for you. They believe you can do it. "
She gave a little breath and wiped one eye. I blinked away, holding back my own tears. This guy was good. I didn't want him prying into MY brains though in front of everyone.
She cried for a second and I clenched my jaw down hard, hating this.
"What's wrong, Kate ?" Dr. Carlisle asked softly, "Tell me what's going on, what's your head telling you now ?"
She breathed again and took a tissue offered to her by the doctor.
"I mean…", she said in a tiny voice, "Thank you guys…but…I shouldn't' get over it. I changed someone's life. And I can never make it right."
"How many of you think that Kate can…that we can give Kate permission to get over this ?", he asked us.
All of us showed our hands again.
"Everybody makes mistakes.", Lia said sweetly.
The red haired girl added, "Yea."
"You made a terrible mistake.", Dr. Carlisle agreed, "But what do we call them? It was a car -"
"Accident." ,everyone said including the doctor.
"It was an accident.", Dr. Carlisle stated, taking a moment.
"I know you feel very guilty.", he said to Kate as she wiped her other eye, "The purpose of this group is to make us all feel….what ? Less guilty. How can we help Kate to turn that sentence into a true statement ?"
Group ended that day before they could get to me and my issues, thank God. But I knew eventually it would be my turn. I hated that. I thought it was great, what Dr. Carlisle was saying and doing for the others, but my story is different. My guilt is different. What I did was no accident. I did it…on purpose…and I enjoyed it. Something dark is inside me and I know that. I've accepted it. Something is wrong with ME. And nothing Dr. Carlisle says can change that. I was glad he was helping the other girls. But I still felt like my life was messed up, that I will never get over it…and that I shouldn't get over it. My life IS over. My body just keeps moving and breathing on its own.
For a moment I could see that girl, in my face, her fucking evil face talking her shit.
She shoved me down and I felt blood on my elbows…then I felt my hand, hot, covered with blood as I stuck the knife into her chest.
"Hi…hello…", a voice was talking to me….I looked up and saw the black haired girl, Alice, standing there in front of me at my empty round cafeteria table. She was holding a tray and asked, "Anyone sitting here ?"
I looked around at the empty table.
"I think I can squeeze you in.", I was glad for the distraction.
She sat with a grin and looked over the meal on her tray.
"What IS this anyway ?", she asked me.
"Black hamburger ", I revealed, already having gotten to the bottom of that little mystery.
She laughed and pushed it away, just taking a sip of her soda.
"So how'd detention go ?", she asked, opening a bag of doritos.
"What detention ?" I frowned.
Then it came smacking back at me.
Mr. Cullen…
"You will report here every day at 4 pm.", he had told me.
"FUCK !", I heard myself almost scream it as I launched myself out of the chair and ran as fast as I could out of there.
All I could think of was what his eyes would look like when I got there….what time is it ?! I looked at my cell phone, seeing 6:16 pm.
"FUCKETY FUCK FUCK FUCK !", I copied Timothy Olyphant from Santa Clarita Diet.
I almost killed myself getting to the gym. I was uncoordinated as it was walking, let alone RUNNING.
Part of me asked why I was so scared….but I was.
I got to the gym and it was all dark inside. The door was locked.
"Oh my God…", I almost choked on the terror in my chest.
I have no idea where to find him even ! What did I think, he lived in there ? I dared to knock on the big wooden doors with no windows.
Two and a half hours late…I was truly dead shit now.
I went around the hallway and tried the other side doors…locked. Part of me said COOL no detention but I knew better with this guy. I had to find him.
I looked around for a teacher and asked one in the hallway, "Do you know where I can find Mr. Cullen ?"
"He's probably eating like everyone else.", one large older man said to me, annoyed by me.
"Well where do the teachers go to eat ?", I asked, not getting an answer, he just waved his arm at me, motioning for me to get out of the school area.
"School is over today, go to your dorm.", he said flatly.
Jerk.
I really had no idea where I was going…but I went from building to building, asking anyone I could find where I could locate Mr. Cullen. I was told to try here, try there….I found some of the houses where some of the teachers lived but didn't find the Asshole Cave I was looking for.
"Is everything alright ?", one teacher asked me, one I didn't know. He looked like he was concerned about me.
Another half hour went by…I knew I could not just forget and go eat…or go back to my room. If I waited until tomorrow to confront him I just knew he'd kill me.
Wait….I recalled the sight of him playing piano. Ahh the music program ! Maybe that's where he'd be !
I congratulated myself for thinking of that and tried to figure out where the friggin music building was ! I'm gonna die here with no clue how to get around ! Directions and figuring out how to get somewhere was a huge problem for me.
I asked around some more and finally I found the music and arts building.
It was dark here too, except for one dim light in one window. I swallowed and tried the door.
It opened and I trembled as I heard piano music playing. It was a slow but angry sound…the keys being struck purposely and hard with each hit. Then it turned faster and louder….my body trembled as the keys then turned sweeter…
I went down a hallway, dark, a classroom at the end of the hall with a light coming from it.
I moved towards it, the music increasing as I got closer. The player was perfect, excellent…it had to be him.
Then as I got to the door, the keys went very soft and quiet. I guessed it was near the end of the song.
Then I could see him. His back was to me and he wore a gray dress shirt, dark jeans. His hair was perfect in back as always. That nice copper color like dark fire.
Damn he smelled good.
His fingers were moving slowly on the keys I could see and then he stopped.
I froze there a moment, wondering what I could say now.
"Umm…Mr. Cullen ?", I sounded hoarse as I spoke.
He turned suddenly, as if I surprised him. Then when he saw it was me he frowned. Then…smiled very wickedly at me.
"Miss Swan.", he said the words like…I don't even know how to describe it. But he sounded equally repulsed and thrilled at the same time that he had me right where he wanted me.
"I'm sorry…", I began, "I tried to –"
"You know, Miss Swan…" his brow raised a bit, his smile glowed, "My pleasant side is just as pleasant as my dark side is dark. Why you keep choosing to play in the darkness is beyond me…maybe you are just the newest screwup here this year but make no mistake – you are toying in very dangerous waters."
His eyes were pure restrained blackness. I was scared to death but also…something inside me couldn't deny how fucking hot he was right now. Why was my lust stoked by evil men and characters in stories ? Further proof of my fucked up-ness.
"You are not the first to play with me, Miss Swan.", he informed coldly, "But believe me little girl…I always win."
Miss Nickles flashed in my mind.
I didn't know what to say. I just stood there, mute.
"What have you to say for yourself, Miss ?" he asked, calmer now but still pissed.
"I'm sorry.", I breathed the words, "I forgot…"
He looked up and gave a nasty little laugh, as if he couldn't believe the nerve of my answer.
"I forgot.", he repeated, his voice lethal and low.
"Am I supposed to get back into my gym clothes now after I've already been in them for EIGHT HOURS TODAY and hold your hand while I teach you the SIMPLE game of volleyball ?!", he raised his voice a bit.
At the word SIMPLE I had jumped out of my skin and he looked like he enjoyed that.
"No Sir.", I said as he raised a brow at me again, "I mean, no Mr. Cullen…I just…"
He moved and spun around to face me completely now, sitting on the piano bench, his hands casually resting there at his sides.
"Are you incapable of forming a sentence, Miss Swan ?", he asked incredulously, "Try it out. Again."
I took a deep breath and tried it.
"I am sorry I missed your detention.", I said slowly and carefully, "I am ready to make it up, now or tomorrow…or….whenever you want…Mr. Cullen."
He gave a nod and his finger played along the edge of the piano bench.
"Where are your gym clothes ?", he asked, looking me up and down, "Where is your book ?"
Shit !
"In my room.", I winced a bit.
"Is this really junior behavior ?" he asked me, sounding disappointed, "I mean…this is the first week of the year….and this is how you are ? How fucking disappointing…"
My father loved to use that word. It was a sharp knife in me.
He just sat there, shaking his head for a moment. Then his eyes turned on me and he just looked at me, without saying anything.
I started to shiver a little bit, unaware of what he was doing.
Finally, I asked, "Are you waiting for me to say something ?"
He huffed and smiled again, looking up.
"What could you say, Miss Swan ?", he asked, "What could you say to me and every teacher here….that you're about to waste years of our time? While we try desperately to help you turn your pathetic existence around while you sit back with your feet up ? Is there anything you COULD say to make that alright ?"
He tilted his head at me as my fists began to ball up. I felt tears rising up behind my eyes but I ordered them to stay in there.
"I…", I cleared my throat, "I will not waste your time."
"You already have !", he frowned, "Three days already. Maybe your time is not valuable Miss Swan but mine IS. I have better things to do than play wet nurse to YOU. I have 500 other girls here who show REAL potential ! Girls who are going somewhere ! Girls who TRY ! Why…would I want to waste another SECOND on YOU ?!"
I don't know why but I heard myself begging for another chance.
"Please…", I said, "I WILL try."
"Oh I'm convinced now.", he said with a droll voice, "Let's just start drafting your valedictorian speech, shall we ?"
He huffed and spun around in one motion, going back to play his piece.
The keys were still expertly played and he moved his head back a bit, relaxing as his fingers danced over the black and white beneath them.
Before I could help it, I said, "Your playing is amazing."
Without turning around, he kept playing and said, "I had to TRY and work real hard to learn it. It didn't come for free."
I frowned. Then I just decided to take a chance.
"I don't know why you hate me.", I said quietly, in almost a whisper, "But I don't hate you. I don't particularly LIKE you…but…all I want is to take my classes, pass, and get out of here. That's all I want."
He ignored me for another few seconds and then said, "Want… Lucifer's favorite whip…"
"What ?", I asked, unsure of what he was saying.
"Go fetch your gym clothes…and your book.", he said, his fingers pressing the keys harder now, sounding angrier and deeper as he played, "And meet me in the gym. You have three minutes."
I let out a breath and rushed out, saying, "Thanks Mr. Cullen!"
He kept playing then said, "Isabella !"
I stopped at his use of my full name and turned back, "Yes?"
"Don't forget.", he said arrogantly.
"I won't I swear.", I promised, taking off as fast as I could.
I could hear him playing as I left the building, praying that I wouldn't get lost now.
When I got back to the gym, no one was around in the halls at all now. The gym light was on and the door open. I flew inside, wearing my gym stuff, holding my book.
"Six…five…", I found him, pacing, looking at his watch, counting down the seconds…"four…"
"I'm HERE I'm HERE !", I announced, out of breath as I ran up to him, keeping a few feet away.
"Three…two….one.", he finished sternly.
He was in gym clothes now, this time a black tight t shirt and gray shorts, sneakers.
I tried to catch my breath as he half regarded my presence, holding out his hand to me. Did he want my hand ? I nearly put mine into his but I thought better of it and just stared at him, confused.
"The book !", he demanded.
I quickly handed it to him and he looked down at it.
"The Vampire Lestat?", he read the title on the cover, "What the fuck is this ?"
Oh crap !
"Shit…", I covered my mouth then saw his angry eyes glaring at me again, "I'm sorry, Mr. Cullen. I must've grabbed the wrong book, I could've sworn that was it ! I was rushing around in the dark and -"
"Anne Rice.", he flipped through the pages with an amused look on his face, "Let's see…"
I wanted to die. I'm sure I will…in a minute.
He cleared his throat and read , "The prince is never going to come. Everyone knows that; and maybe sleeping beauty's dead."
I looked down, wincing a bit. Why am I so stupid ?
He held the book by it's edge like it was covered in dog shit, dangling it in my face, "This, Miss Swan, is SHIT."
He dropped it in front of me, and it hit the floor. Something in me was mad suddenly, this reminded me of my father too.
"It's NOT", I argued, "It's beautiful."
I bent to pick the book up but he said, "Don't you dare pick that up."
I stopped and stood up, folding my arms.
"Unfold those shitty chicken arms.", he scolded further, "I said it's shit and it is."
"Well it can't compare to that classic The Basics of Volleyball.", I shot back. I couldn't believe my nerve ! I felt proud of myself.
"Damn right.", he agreed, "Volleyball is real. Volleyball is easy. For most people ! That is a fantasy, a nice little dream for stupid little girls…"
He was pointing down at the book as he spoke.
"I understand that's what you are but don't bring that drivel into my class again.", he commanded.
He backed away and went to his office off the gym. I heard a crash and he came back quickly, holding a copy of that stupid volleyball book. How many of them did he have in there ?
Don't listen to him, Anne, I silently told the book on the floor, I think you're fucking awesome.
"Get on the wall.", he nodded his head towards the glossy painted concrete blue wall behind me.
"What?", I wasn't sure what he meant.
"Jesus Christ.", he took my arm and firmly moved me, back to the wall.
"Squat.", he spat the word, "Hands on the floor."
He stuck the little book into his own mouth then, teeth clenching it, and grabbed my ankles as I yelped.
He stuck my feet against the wall and I actually didn't slip from it.
"Use your hands to keep your legs in place.", he instructed strictly, your sneakers will give you traction as long as your hands stay there."
"Uhhh…", my hair hung over my face as I stared at my hands and the floor, "I'm gonna fall !"
"Don't.", he warned.
"Spread the legs more…", he pulled my right foot further away from the left as I screamed out.
"There.", he sounded satisfied with that.
This was horrible already…my arms were shaking as I tried to keep myself up. My legs were on fire already too !
"Chapter One.", he opened the book and began to read it aloud, his slow pace back and forth in front of me hardly visible to me as I struggled to stay up there. Jesus Christ, is he really going to read the whole book to me ? I'd never make it.
"Volleyball is an amazing sport enjoyed by people of ALL AGES.", he emphasized the last two words.
God I hate him.
"It is a simple game with simple rules.", his voice was so velvety as he read the words, "It is easy to follow and can be played by just about ANYONE…except Miss Swan."
He gave a little laugh. "I just added that in myself…sorry."
Oh he DOES have a sense of humor…it was sick but…there. I was already panting, struggling to keep up.
"If you are interested in knowing more about volleyball and would like to get started with it at the earliest, you have come to the right place !", he read a little too cheerfully for my taste.
"This book will act as your ultimate guide to volleyball and teach you how you can start playing, or following the game. This book covers the basics of volleyball including basic rules, terminologies, equipment needed, strategies, and drills."
I let out a pained breath.
"I thank you for once again choosing this book and hope you have a good time reading it.", he sounded all playful with this last sentence.
"Uhhhh….", I tried to take four breaths in a row, like a woman in labor.
"Are you having a good time reading it, Miss Swan ?", he stopped, turning the page.
"Oh God I can't hold on…" I told him.
"Yes you can and you will.", he said without batting an eye.
"I'm gonna fall Mr. Cullen !", I warned.
"Fine fall.", he shrugged, "But then you will get yourself right back up there and we will start that page all over again. By the end of the book, you should be quite good at staying there."
"FUCK" I heard myself blurt out.
"You have quite a potty mouth, Miss Swan.", he sounded disgusted, "That's not how a young lady is supposed to speak, especially to a teacher, is that understood ?"
I grunted, my forehead already sweating.
"I said is that understood ?!", he stepped deliberately on my pinky finger, holding it down to the floor.
"OOWWWW YES ! YES !", I fought to stay up, my finger throbbing.
He took his foot off me and cleared his throat.
"Yes what ?"
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", I whimpered a little, more afraid to fall than anything else.
"Pay attention.", he snapped his finger, "Don't just focus on your discomfort. Because there will be tests, many tests to see if you've listened."
"The volleyball court is 18 meters from endline to endline and 9 meters from sideline to sideline…", he continued reading as my left foot began to slip. Without a word, his hand shoved it back into place as I screeched while he kept reading.
"The centerline divides the court in half.", he read on, "Miss Swan…how much of this book did you read on your own so far ?"
"Uhhh…", I clenched my eyes shut, "A couple of pages."
"A couple pages hmmm….", he sounded displeased, "How many meters is the attack line ?"
Fuck how was I supposed to know ?!
He whistled the tune of jeopardy very slowly…waiting.
"Five ?", I took a shot.
"Incorrect.", he shot back, "Three."
"You didn't read this book at all, did you ?", he asked.
"I didn't get a chance…I was practicing all night -" I began to explain.
"I don't want to hear your feeble excuses.", he replied, "I told you to read the book. Period. If you have time to dance with glittering vampires with Anne Rice then you have PLENTY of time to read a book I told you to read !"
"That's Stephanie Meyers.", I said with more attitude than I should've. But I was hurting and tired already !
"What did you say ?" he coiled a finger around my shoelace, gently moving me just a bit, making my leg part further than it was already.
"Nothing nothing !", I took a few more fast breaths, trying to stay in place.
"Beautiful.", he sounded like he was smiling, "So tell me you're a liar now in addition to pathetic."
I want Dr. Carlisle so badly right now.
"I'm a liar.", I said in a small voice.
"Louder.", he pushed with his voice.
"I'm a LIAR!", I groaned louder, growling a little.
"A bad one at that.", he added.
"Each team's attack line is three meters from the centerline.", he continued, "A back row player must stay behind the attack line when jumping to contact a ball that is above the height of the net."
I was screwed. All this sounded like fucking Chinese to me.
"Players may initiate the serve from anywhere along the endline.", he finished.
"There is a picture." he callously informed, and put the book under my face, "Look at it."
There was a picture of a volleyball court, drawn like a diagram. It was upside down but okay.
"Thank you.", I breathed, unsure why I said it.
"You're very welcome.", he said politely and I almost thought he said something to me that wasn't filled with hate.
"Next page…", he announced, "What do you need to play volleyball ? Begin with volleyball shoes, knee pads, and a volleyball."
His voice was sounding like he was talking to a really dumb person now. I was getting mad.
I wanted to be a brat. I wanted to let him know I was hating this.
"Where's our shoes and knee pads ?", I huffed.
"No money in the school budget for such luxuries I'm afraid.", he said without getting angry at all, "With all the money they get in tuition around here I guess that goes to buying the Dean a new car every year."
"And don't think I let that last snide remark slide, this is your only warning.", he said firmly, "As bad as your situation is right now, it could be so much worse. So don't test me Miss Swan."
Alice was right. It could be so much worse. I remembered laying on the gym floor…a warm memory.
"For an indoor six person game, " he started to read again, "Each team has six players on the court in a predetermined line up."
He stopped suddenly and asked, "Miss Swan – tell me the dimensions of a volleyball court."
Shit.
"Ummm", I tried to remember it as I spoke, "Eighteen….meters…"
"From endline to endline…", he reminded, patiently waiting.
"Yes….and…nine meters…the other way…", I hoped that was close enough.
"From sideline to sideline.", he sounded curt, then added, "Not bad Miss Swan. There may be hope for you yet."
And I felt on top of the world !
Then I fell. The Fates hate me.
I crumpled and landed on my knees on the hard floor. I screamed out loud and was in a fetal position now, my hands really feeling raw and numb.
"Back up Miss Swan.", he said coldly, seeming to still be looking at the book in his hand.
I was about to say something but he stopped me before I even got a word out.
"BACK UP!", he shouted and I trembled, trying to get my feet back up there….there was no way I could do it without help.
"Kick your feet back and brace them on the wall.", he said.
I felt wetness on my knees…is that blood ?
"NOW", he hollered again as I cried a little.
"I can't.", I kicked and my legs fell back down.
"Yes you can.", he said, a little calmer, "Lose that mentality right now. You can and you will. Do it !"
"If I hear the words I CAN'T again out of your mouth, you'll be doing this in your underwear !", he thundered above me, "Now get up there."
Fuck. Something inside me lurched with some sick desire.
I tried this a few times and kept falling. He stood there, arms crossed, watching me, not saying anything, just waiting.
At last a miracle happened and somehow I had my legs up on the wall again.
"Spread them out.", he said without yelling, watching me.
"More.", he coaxed, "More, Miss Swan !"
"Good.", he sighed, "See ? You did it all by yourself."
I wanted to see him hurt. I wanted to see him bleed.
"A legal serve may contact the net", he started to read again, "but must cross over the net and between the antennae."
"Mr. Cullen ?", I had to ask…my body was hurting everywhere.
"Yes Miss Swan ?", he sounded annoyed I interrupted.
"Are you…going to read the whole book…tonight ?" I asked timidly.
"I sure am.", he sounded decided on this.
"And…I have to stay like this the whole time ?", I further asked.
"The whole time.", he began to stroll past my hands again.
"Can I ask one more thing please Mr. Cullen?" I dared.
"One more."
"How long is the book ?" I wondered aloud.
"Mmmm let me see…", he sounded very nice now, "Uhh fourteen chapters. And if you're very good I'll read you About the Author at the end of it."
"I think my knees are bleeding, Sir.", I made myself call him that.
He peeked and said, "Yes they are."
" A server who steps on the endline prior to contact is considered in the court, resulting in a serving fault.", he kept reading coolly.
I whimpered some more and growled, my only way of coping….I thought he might have some mercy on me but yea right…
Every so often he would quiz me on what he'd just read a page or two before…I screwed up a lot answering. I didn't understand a god damn thing he was reading !
Two chapters later I had fallen three more times and had to get back up alone. This last time I had answered wrong on another question and he was not pleased with me.
"Miss Swan.", he kept his eyes on the book, not looking at me, "Take off your shorts."
"What ?" I was on my hands and knees, trying to get my legs back on the wall. Did I hear him wrong ?
"Take. Off. Your. Shorts.", he eyed the book, turning the page slowly.
"Uhh…", I was shocked out of my mind and couldn't make words come out of my mouth.
"Take them off or I'll do it for you.", he kept silently reading, "And you don't want THAT."
"Are you wearing underwear?", he asked, glancing at me.
"Y—yes.", I answered.
"Then there's no problem is there?", he asked without emotion.
I was trying to remember which undies I had on today…are they cute ones ?
"Now Miss Swan…", he pushed verbally, "I have about five million better things I could be doing right now, trust me…seeing your chicken ass is no treat for me."
"I hate you." I muttered under my breath, thinking he couldn't hear me.
"I hate you more.", he snapped back at me.
"Tick tock…" he snapped his fingers, making me jump, "Do it."
I took a breath and stood up, sliding my blue cotton shorts down and over my bloody little knees, stepping out one foot at a time.
"Give them here." He snapped and opened a hand towards me.
I gave them to him and he took a few steps back from me.
"Get on the wall.", he turned his back to me, waiting.
I still had my t shirt on that was something. But I felt so embarrassed now…I have my pink boyshorts underwear on. Okay…that's not showing too much. He said I had a chicken ass. I knew it was true but it still stung to hear HIM say it.
Even more difficult now getting my legs up there with just panties on. But eventually I did it.
I panted and made my legs go in two different directions before he yelled at me again.
"Very good.", he sounded pleased now, "You're getting better at doing that."
"Let's continue…", he went back to the book.
"The receiving team must return the ball to the other side of the net within three team contacts.", his voice was liquid over each word, "And NO INDIVIDUAL may contact the ball more than once consecutively. Remember that, Miss Swan ?"
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", I felt tears making my eyes blurry.
Three chapters later I was really hurting. I was almost crying out loud and I wasn't ashamed about it either.
"Will you compose yourself Miss Swan ?", he asked finally, "You're embarrassing me and yourself."
"MR. CULLEN", I growled.
"What ?" he snapped.
"I ca-", I almost said it, "This really hurts…my neck…my arms…my legs….please can't I come down ?"
"I gave you every chance to read this book.", he said, "Did I not ?"
"But-"
"Did I NOT ?", he repeated.
"Yes.", I panted.
"Yes what ?"
"Yes Mr. Cullen." I whined.
"Chapter Four…", he turned the page with a snap of the paper.
"Wait.", I felt tears running into my nose.
"What now ?", he asked annoyedly.
"Can I please have a break?", I tried that.
"Can I have a break ?", he asked me, mocking my voice, "When's my break, Miss Swan ? It's now…8:34 ! I've been awake since 5 am this morning ! Do you think I'm having the time of my life here ? Reading shit I know already inside and out ?! I had to memorize this ! Also basketball, football, baseball….water polo ! Name the sport I know it ! And that's alright, it's my job. But my workday should've ended at 4pm ! And at 4 pm I was here, (he stomped his foot on the floor hard) waiting for your little girl ass while you FORGOT !"
"When we have a date …", he stopped and corrected himself, "When we have an appointment you don't get here at 4 o clock or 6:35…you get here at 3:30 pm ! Is that clear ?"
"Yes Mr. Cullen I'm sorry.", I felt like my body would explode. But hearing him say 'we have a date' made my heart start pumping a bit harder, even if it WAS a mistake.
"You can sit here and wait for ME.", he muttered , "In fact every time I come in here to have a detention with you I want you like this, waiting, on the wall. Got that ?"
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", I cried.
"Now see you just prolonged your misery by five more minutes with that whole tirade. The faster you accept your punishment, the faster you get in bed to dream of sweet little vampires who glow in the dark and write poetry to their human girlfriends.", he scoffed.
"Chapter Four…" he went back to the book, reading as I held in my internal screaming.
"To get you on the right path to success…", he read with no concern, "Picture your dominant hand open and in the shape of the volleyball. Creating topspin is best achieved by…."
The words were becoming blurry and lost as I struggled to stay up…I just let go and started sobbing by Chapter 5.
"Miss Swan…Miss Swan…", he called over my sobbing, "I advise you to stop that infantile display right now or you lose the shirt next."
"RRRRRR it hurrtttssssss Mrrrrr….Cullleeennnnnn" I was like a wounded animal now.
"I don't care.", he said flatly, "I don't care. Punishments are supposed to hurt. If I took you to Disneyland it wouldn't have the same effect now would it ?"
I couldn't stop bawling and I hated that. I felt worse than Miss Nickles now.
"Toughen up you weak little piece of nothing.", he threatened, "Or I have worse positions to put you in."
I quieted and stopped crying. Something deep inside me was angered by his words and wanted to prove him wrong. But the dominant part of me accepted it. It was true. I am nothing.
"Are you through now ?", he asked, looking down at me.
"Yes Mr. Cullen.", I growled, wet beads of sweat dripping off my hair into my eyes.
"Delighted to hear it.", he mocked a very sweet voice, "Are you going to forget our detentions
any more ?"
"No Mr. Cullen.", I groaned.
"I'm touched.", he returned without emotion.
"Chapter 5…", he started to read again, "The Attack. Attacking is exhilarating and a great place to start because everyone loves the idea of hovering above the net and slamming the ball to the court. Remember all the times I did that when we played, Miss Swan ?"
"Vividly.", I replied without complaint.
"Attacking is fun and there is no better way to get smiles on faces.", he read and commented to himself, "Jesus who wrote this ?"
I would have laughed at his question if I wasn't dying inside.
Attacking…it does sound really fun to me right now. I pictured myself coming up behind him, grabbing him by the top of his perfectly coiffed hair, pulling his beautiful face back and slicing his throat. At first no blood…no line showing…then seconds later….gushing redness and his voice emptily gargling for air as his eyes widen then quickly go vacant in their death.
Fuck there is something really wrong with me. I imagined Dr. Carlisle asking the group if they believed I could kill Mr. Cullen and get away with it. My self talk says it would be lovely…but not probable.
By the time Chapter 7 came up I was back to pleading and negotiating again.
"Mr. Cullen…", I wept, "I really have to go to the bathroom!"
"So go.", he kept his eyes on the book.
I began to get down but he saw me and halted me.
"Oh no…" he stepped on my fingers now, all five on my right hand, "I didn't say get down."
"You said…"
"I said go.", he pointed out, "You can piss right there and you will clean it up after we're through. And if it's a bowel movement you have to make, you just hold it in."
"Mr. Cullennnnn", I groaned.
"Chapter Seven.", he continued, walking past me and back again slowly, "Defense."
I cried out again as he loudened his voice, reading over my voice.
"What a SAVE !", he read aloud, "Perhaps that is the part of the game that has drawn you into this sport."
"Are you feeling defensive, Miss Swan ?", he asked me, feeling slightly amused.
"Are you unfamiliar with a pancake, or a J-stroke ?", he read.
"Well, are you Miss Swan ?"
"No Mr. Cullen.", I grunted, fighting the urge to piss now.
"Not after reading THIS CHAPTER!", he chuckled, reading again, "Plus, peek again to the Libero chapter and you can be a defensive wizard in no time at all !"
"This is almost too cruel of even me to make you listen to this.", he glanced at the back cover of the book, "Almost."
"Mr. Cullen…", I pleaded again, "I'm going to…I have to…"
"Go I told you.", he didn't budge.
I wept out loud as I felt myself let go…and hot urine started draining out of my crotch…staining my underwear and running forward towards my stomach and chest. I let out a horrible gut wrenching roar as he stood there and watched me.
I was panting hard now, mortified, my arms quaking and my legs throbbing with pain.
"Don't let go Miss Swan.", he warned me, "Don't. You stay there."
The smell was fucking awful and I could feel long thick lines of pee moving towards my breasts, under my top.
After another chapter, he said, "Come down Miss Swan."
Oh thank you CHRIST !
I fell down instead of crawling down because I just didn't have the strength. I laid there in a ball, slobbering…smelling of piss and sweat, shivering, wanting nothing more to lay on the cold hard floor and sleep there all night.
"Take the shirt off.", he stood next to me, looking over me like an angry God.
He grabbed me by the frizzed out hair on my head and lifted my face up so I could see him.
His black eyes were unforgiving and still cruel.
"Take the shirt off.", he repeated, "Then get back up on the wall."
I burst out crying again, everything hurt terribly and I wanted to die instead of going back on that wall.
"I'll take it off just don't make me go back on the wall please…Mr. Cullen…", I pleaded like a baby, no dignity left.
"Take it off.", he said, letting go of my hair.
I tried to stand and my legs were so wobbly. I fell on my knees and yanked my shirt off over my head, my white bra stained a little yellowish with my urine.
Trying to wipe it off with my blue shirt, I wept in utter humiliation.
"Give it.", he held a hand out for my shirt.
I handed it to him nicely.
"Good.", he stroked my wet cheek for a second, moving a tear away, then took his hand away, "Now get back on the wall."
I cried and begged some more…I told him I would do anything he wanted, anything but that….
"NOW.", he barked.
"We have six more chapters to endure.", he snapped his fingers.
I was blubbering and I hated myself…but I kept trying to leap my legs back up on the fucking wall…my hands were no good to hold me up either. After ten tries he came over to me.
"Okay, okay, listen.", he took hold of my hands…don't use your hands…lay on your arms…put your elbows down…"
He guided my arms so I was leaning now on my arms. Maybe that would be a little easier.
"Legs up.", he ordered and I tried it a couple more times. Then they found their footing and I growled as I moved my legs apart as far as I could.
"How's that ?", he asked with a sweet voice, "Better?"
I nodded, a mousy "Thank you Mr. Cullen" squeaking out of my mouth.
"Alright Miss Swan.", he took a step back, "Don't ever say I wasn't generous."
I didn't even register that my shirt was gone. It was cooler, actually, without it on…and my dignity had long been gone before this.
"Here's another picture.", he held it under my face, "See it ?"
I made myself focus on it and could see a man with brown Richie Cunningham hair serving a volleyball.
"Yes thank you Mr. Cullen.", I shivered.
"You're welcome.", he replied, "The sequence of the toss and contact should be rapid. Remember, the serving hand is accelerating to the ball."
I fell more and more after that. My legs just weren't strong enough to do it. I would lay there, rolling onto my back as he yelled at me to get back on the wall. I cried and begged, pleaded and even cursed once at him. For that I had to hold my piss smelling shirt in my mouth while I was forced back on the wall, back on my hands now. He had been nice to allow me to use my arms…and I didn't appreciate that.
For the whole of Chapter ten I just screamed and cried. He just read louder than me and didn't pay me any attention at all.
"Chapter 11", he began as I fell down once more….rolling onto my back, I felt crippled and broken.
"Miss SWAN", he stomped a foot on the floor as I quivered everywhere, unable to stop.
"Why don't you try your SELF TALK now ?", he asked, sounding tickled by something, "Where does YOUR guilt come from Miss Swan ? I'd love to see you turn this sentence into something positive…"
I felt tears falling sideways out of each eye as I just laid there, not wanting to leave the floor. My brain wondered how he knew about that…but I was too broken to consider it.
"Nooo noooo…." I weakly croaked as I felt his hands on me again, putting me back into my position.
Then the shirt was roughly shoved into my mouth again.
"Stay there and listen.", he gave my cheek a few little slaps to check that I was still alive.
"Are you paying attention, Miss Swan ?"
"MMMMM", I tried to answer.
For the next chapter I was so out of it I didn't even know where I was…or who I was.
"Chapter Twelve…", I could hear his voice all distorted in the distance…
"I'll wake your ass up.", he said and for a second I could hear nothing….then I felt a hard CRACK break over my damp panties.
"UUUHHHHHHHH", I screamed out. It felt like my ass was split across the back of my spine.
I nearly fell but his voice was so close shouting, "DON'T YOU FALL ! DON'T !"
"You're a soft little piece of shit.", he almost said to himself, tapping something long and hard against my panties.
"Spoiled little bitch…"
CRACK ! Another horrid sound as the blow hit me again, this time nearer to my ass cheeks lower than my spine.
"Wake up Miss Swan.", he demanded, "Wake up !"
"I'm awake ! I'm awake !", I screeched through the shirt half in my mouth.
"Ready for a little quiz ?", he asked me.
"NNNNN", I cried.
"Yea no shit NNNNNNN", he nodded, "You're falling asleep on me, aren't you ?"
"Chapter twelve.", he read out loud, moving the stick in his hand up my back. It was a flat stick, rough with splinters….maybe a yardstick ?
Alice was right. I will never talk back to him again.
"Hey Miss Swan, listen, they're talking about you now.", he tapped the stick against my back lightly, making me groan louder.
"Serving to the weakest receiver is the best bet and a clever strategy.", he read, "Or you could serve in between two players…"
He put the stick under my breasts and said, "Get this belly UP !", he tapped my chest as I lifted up higher, my body crying out in agony.
"Get that lazy ass up", he repeated, then tapped the stick on my ass, not very hard but enough to make my legs almost buckle.
"Not great but better.", he assessed.
"Praying…", he gave a small laugh, "Maybe this chapter might help you Miss Swan. Listen up."
"Praying is a common error performed by a lot of players", he read, "When a player brings their hands up to their head before serving this is called the praying position. How do you correct this error ?"
Then I felt the stick touch under my chin and he raised my face up a little bit…then more….then more…until I grunted out loud, finding it impossible to go back any further.
"Are you praying, Miss Swan ?", he asked with a grin.
He dropped my face then as my head hung like a limp dish rag.
I became an object at that point, making myself shut up and hang on until it was over. Two more chapters left…when he was done he even read the About the Author chapter after that. I wept quietly as he read all about Joel Yearling, a retired volleyball coach.
I clenched my eyes and inhaled my own piss in the shirt in my mouth, dying…waiting for him to say something else after he was finished reading.
A long pause went by as I panted harder, my whole body shaking with excruciating fury.
"Alright Miss Swan….", he said, "Did you get all that ?"
I nodded furiously, mumbling "YESS YEESSSS MR CULLEN YESSS"
"Want me to go back and read anything again ?", he checked.
"NNNNNNN", I shook my head, "PLLLSSSNOOOOO MR CULLEN"
"You sure ?"
I nodded and garbled some more.
"What have we learned about respecting another's time ?", he asked, standing right next to my hands that were still on the floor, holding me up.
I said a lot but I don't think he understood me through the shirt in my mouth.
"Very good.", he said, understanding me perfectly, "And will you forget me now ? Or ever?"
"NNNOO NOOOO NOOOO NOOOOO Mr. CULLEN", I growled.
"Hmm.", he took a moment to think about this while I waited for sweet fucking release. It felt like five years went by.
"Come lay down on the floor.", he said the words I needed to hear so badly.
As I let myself fall off the wall in one big pile with a thud he chuckled as he watched me.
"Here.", he tapped the stick to the floor in front of me, "Lay on your back."
I felt like I was having a seizure but he didn't look too concerned about me.
"Take ten minutes Miss Swan.", he allowed as I thanked him, still holding my shirt in my mouth.
I think I fell asleep and wasn't sure if he was near me or not…frankly I didn't care.
Before I knew it, he was there, taking the shirt out of my mouth. He tapped my face with the back of his hand and I slowly opened my eyes.
"Get up and clean up your mess Miss Swan.", he gently ordered me.
I sat up, my body still on fire. He slid a full bucket of water towards me with a big sponge inside it, And I put a weak hand on the edge of it.
"There you go.", he said like I was three years old, "Clean it all up."
He walked away, going back into the locker rooms alone.
I just crawled around, wiping the sponge all over the floor where I had been, going in big circles, the cold water with soapy bubbles making my hands feel wonderful.
I even wiped down the wall where my feet were all night. After the whole floor and wall seemed glistening and wet, I washed myself with the sponge, making sure my chest and stomach got very wet and soapy…then I tried to wash between my legs.
I hoped he wouldn't get mad at me for this. But I needed to get clean now, not even five minutes from now…
Shivering, I took my bra off and began to wash my small breasts with the sponge. It felt sooo damn good I didn't care if the whole school came in right now. I had no sense of dignity or modesty…it was strange.
"Miss Swan…" his voice sounded surprised as he came back into the gym doorway. He didn't yell.
He looked like he wanted to leave the room but at the same time he looked like he wanted to come closer.
"Is it okay Mr. Cullen ?" I asked meekly, "You said to clean the mess…"
"Yes, it's alright Miss Swan.", he said, no anger in his voice now.
"Thank you.", I tried to arch my back, putting the wet sponge on the back of my neck.
I felt his fingers, always so cold, lift my hair up and he took the sponge from me, and squeezed the cool soapy water over my neck and spine….my voice almost sounded like I was having a full orgasm…not that I ever had a real one before…
"There you go, Miss Swan…", he washed the sponge up and down my back, moving in very sensual strokes….upppp and downnnn….."Breathe…deeper….innn…and outttt…"
"That feels so good.", I cooed, letting my head fall back onto his waist behind me. I felt a very hard and very long bulge in his pants.
He froze and pulled back at that.
"You're clean.", he said, very cold again in his tone, "Get out. Go home. See you in class tomorrow."
He was gone when I turned around. I slowly got my clothes on and took the bucket to the locker room, dumping it out in the big sink and looking around for any signs of him. He was nowhere.
I turned the lights off and found the walk home to be about five million miles. My legs were weak, my back, my arms…I fell a few times but no one was around. By the time I got home, I wanted to die.
Being at the top floor sucked tonight but I finally made it. I flopped into my little bed and passed out immediately.
End of Chapter 4