Chapter 4

She wasn't disappointed at him at all...she just wished she had been able to see him. What was she saying? She always saw him! All the time in class and the canteen...but their after sessions were fast becoming the highlight of her week. As she drove home she contemplated the day's events, and the way Eleven had looked at her when he told her about his detention. His eyes in particular were what drew her in, along with his adorably floppy hair. And that smile...she often wondered how that smile could ever be directed at her, or anyone. She had surprised herself when she had leaned closer in to him, and almost accidentally on purpose smelled him. His scent was fresh and clean, like a mixture between a floral washing powder and something sweet, which she couldn't put her finger on. It could be sherbet lemons or oranges or jelly babies. Either way her senses had invigorated his smell and his charm and his beautiful, perfect face. A she sped down the road, she wondered if he had caught the small and subtle wink she had given him, in response to a joke they had shared about punctuation. Probably not. She was being too childish and consumed, because just the notion of seeing him again the next day was enough to jump out of her bed in the mornings. She pondered amusedly to herself about how he looked in the morning, whether he had a bedhead or he always had to rub his eyes. Whether he slept in pyjamas, or boxers, or even naked...no. That was completely out of bounds. She couldn't fantasise about one of her students in such a way, it wasn't professional at all. But she reminded herself that she was alone on her motorbike, free for the moment of marking and planning and checking and writing. She was far away from uni now, and like the hellish Satan she was, she began to picture him in all sorts of ways that made her almost moan aloud as the wind whipped her hair and she continued down the motorway, trying harder not to break concentration. Grinning wickedly she allowed herself the privilege of a private session back at home, where she could pleasure herself without judgement and not feel guilty about it at all, since he would never find out. As soon as she parked in her driveway she had gotten completely out of control, and could feel her centre throbbing at the fulfilment it needed. Closing her bedroom door she revelled in the quietness of being in her own privacy rather than amongst uni kids and teachers. Focusing on his voice replaying in her head she released a long, pent up moan after the agonisingly painful wait she'd had to endure to get to this moment all week. Clara knew it was messed up and creepy and downright weird, but she could hardly blame herself as she concentrated on those sparkling eyes and another moan escaped her. And seven years difference wasn't much, was it? She couldn't believe a woman of her sophistication was doing this, but everything about him intrigued her. All she knew was that her life had turned completely upside down the moment he had walked through those doors.

•••••

Eleven's class was next on her list, and she smiled to herself. As they all filed in, she observed him and he sat relatively close by to her. Today he wore a pink patterned shirt and bow tie, white jeans and the ridiculous red fez he loved carrying around was actually perched at an angle on his head. She noticed that his side parting had grown longer, and it made him look even more adorable than usual wearing the fez. She quickly ran through the basis of the lesson, everything important, and collapsed into her chair. What was painfully embarrassing was whenever she looks into his face she remembers what she had done over the weekend and it made her feel slightly uncomfortable to no end. But she could deal with it, a responsible adult that made her own decisions, and she decided that not a boy, not anyone could distract her from her work again. She walked round the class, peering at student's work. Bravely reading Eleven's work she could hear his breath intake and his chest tighten. Tapping her finger on his work she corrected his spelling.

'Miscellaneous. Double 'l'. Apart from that, very good.'

She lingered a moment longer and continued her wondering. Looking back at him he saw him scribbling down onto his paper again. She was certainly impressed, he had managed to write four sides of paper. It seemed her tuition was paying off.

••••

The next week and Eleven once again was unable to see Miss Oswald. And not even for just an hour after classes. She was off on that very day and he hoped she was okay. He wished he himself could wrap his arms around her, comfort her if she was ill. He would do absolutely anything for her. Provide her with blankets and tissues and hot chocolate and soothers. Give her every single ounce of his care, hold her tight and will her illness to go away himself. But he didn't know where she was, and it made the day so dull he wished he had skived it all and stayer up in his dorm. But he hadn't come to university to develop a crush on a teacher. So he willed himself to get through the day and make an effort to pay attention. English was the hardest to face, sitting there in his chair, almost falling asleep at the boring teacher leading the lesson instead of Miss Oswald. As soon as it was all over, he went straight up to his bed, to while away the hour like they did in tuition. He lay there, throwing a rugby ball up into the air and catching it, each time calculating the distance between each throw.

'Hey!' Twelve ran up to him. 'Come out with us, we're having a little party in the woods. Don't want you to miss it.'

'In celebration of?'

'Of being young!' He exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air and actually taking off his shades. Eleven caught the rugby ball and placed it to his chest, watching Twelve reason with him.

'Come on, you shouldn't miss this. We're all down there! Let's go, brother.' He dragged his arm and leg out of bed but Eleven didn't make the effort to stand up.

'Whats actually wrong with you?' He asked.

He didn't reply, instead observed the ceiling.

'I swear you're no fun anymore. If we said party to you, you would have come running! The life and soul of it! Now, you're not even bothering to come out with you're brethren! What's got into you?'

Eleven thought it over, and he was right. He had been too focused on Miss Oswald to care much about anything else lately. He slowly smiled, rolling the ball discarded on the bed as he sprung up and patted Twelve's hair.

'Life and soul of the party, coming up.' With a jubilant cheer Twelve followed him, and as soon as they hit the woods they ran amok. Catching up with Nine and Ten the whole party was amazing, and their group was just as it used to be, wild, free and completely out of control. Dispelling thoughts of Miss Oswald he fully lived up to his title of life and soul. They missed dinner, and everyone was dancing, music turned up loud from the stereo and the night vastly turning to black. Ten, Nine, Twelve and Eleven sang along to all the songs, howling them in the light of the moon, each of them swaying in each other's arms. The alcohol say merrily in his stomach and the consumption of it lead him to dance on top of a bench top, waving his arms in a huge rave. They all joined him up there, gesturing for everyone else around them to sing louder and dance harder. Bodies intertwined, big and loud, like a proper nightclub, only in the woods. Bottles swung freely from all their hands, shouting and laughing. Eleven allowed himself to get completely drunk in the feeling of being young and carefree, to lose himself in the midst of it all. The moon illuminated all of their faces, and smoke rose to intermingle with the cold night air, although Eleven was hot from dancing and the adrenaline. At some point, Ten had acquired blue and red 3D glasses, and Eleven watched happily for him as Ten leaned to kiss the pretty blonde in his arms. Heads whipping round at the sudden burst of booming music and Twelve had mercilessly plugged his guitar into the amp. He played an electrifying riff, and then a few songs everyone shouted coarsely too, Eleven's arms wrapped round Twelve, swaying once again to the music. Finally, after staggering back to the university, they all collapsed into bed. The three of them (excluding Eleven) all had girls on their arms and as he smiled up at the ceiling, feeling invincible with alcohol still shiny on his lips and the world falling at his feet, he allowed himself to zone out and shut his eyes.

He groaned, turning on his front, his mouth agape against his pillow and his hair ruffled wildly. His droopy eyes wondered over to the clock on his bedside table, and they suddenly widened.

'Shit!' He exclaimed, and began to rush round his bed, dressing himself as quickly as he could. He observed each of his friends still asleep with a girl cuddled up to their side, and he woke them all up, warning them of the time.

'Fucking hell, why the fuck are we all getting dressed?' Twelve grumbled, sitting stiffly upright.

'Because we are late up from the party last night.' Eleven explained, pulling on a tweed jacket. For a good ten minutes, the dorm room was a kerfuffle of people getting dressed and ready, groaning and complaining. At last, they all walked out the door and down to classes.

'It was a great night though.' Eleven countered, after Rose commented on how tired she was.

'It was fucking brilliant!' Twelve said. He had the early morning look, his hair springing everywhere in each direction. Ten looked like he was sleepwalking and Nine, as ever, was just as energetic as he was a few hours ago. Nothing ever fazed him.

'I did tell you, not even party could get me a girl.' He told them.

'Nah, you did.' Ten said.

'What?'

'You did get a girl. Well, you were flirting. But you didn't take her back up to the dorm. Dunno why, she was very pretty-'

A slap from Rose and Ten rectified his sentence.

'Not as beautiful as you.' He told her, and she smiled at him. Eleven watched them, all of them, talking to these hot girls and he was so very envious of their relationships. If he had managed to get a girl, he hadn't even realised it, and it was probably because he knew that the only person he wanted was Miss Oswald, and he wasn't the type if person to use someone. With a sigh, he knew it would hence be impossible to find someone as amazing as he thought she was. He could feel a connection every time he was near her or looked into her eyes. It was just the gut feeling that he couldn't replace. But as he reflected on the nights events, a smile appeared on his face. It had been a great night.