A/N: Okay, I haven't much Starbucks in the past few days, so…yeah. But I've still gotten a lot done. Thankfully.
And seriously, I wasn't expecting that many of you to review for the last chapter since like I said it was basically a filler. Thank you very much!!!
But, the next six chapters are all significant to the Jommy relationship. So I guess you will be happy about that. :D
I wrote the ending of this in my journalism class tonight and it came out different than I had planned, but it still works. I don't know what you guys will think though. ;D
Oh yeah, Jude's one page that was in the last chapter is not that same one page that is here. The one in the preview is the right one, but the one in the actual chapter was a first draft, if you will. She "changes" her page to what was in the preview. (Meaning I wrote something then hated it and rewrote it to what is currently used. :D)
THANKS:
chocolateelephantz: Well, I'm glad someone thought that. I do love my Starbucks. :D Shhh! I won't tell anyone, promise. Yes, there is a little Jommy in here. It's pretty significant though. Yeah, um that whole 'you guys suck…sometimes' thing is something I've experienced. It's so wrong that I have to laugh about it. :D She got out of the set this time. They can't. It's habit-forming. AHAHAHA! Mean, I love it! Try, you might get it. A date. Yes. A JOMMY date? In chapter 9? Seriously? What?! I'm not telling. You'll just have to wait. :D Um, it's up to you, but I am doing it this time. It has to happen. :D I would be a pissy if I was reading this. But who knows? I'm posting now!
up14: I'm posting! Thank you for being in love with this story! It loves you back. :D Thanks for thinking it's awesome!
JommyIS4ever: Thank you. I like that its fun! I'm posting now. :D
Carlz02: Oh that sucks! I hope you get better soon!! AHAHA! I like making Tommy suffer sometimes. :D YAY!! DO IT! I don't think anyone else has decided to try. Yes, a date. But between who? That's the question. :D Now you don't have to wait. Thank you for loving this lots!
scrubslover: Thanks! They are habit-forming! Ohhh, I think you'll like what comes next. To an extent. :D
pwbhswriter2009: Thanks! Now you don't have to, I'm posting more now!
funnechick: That conversation is one that I have had with my parents. And family. It's so wrong, but I have to laugh at it. :D I try to save my deep thinking, but that doesn't always happen. Jude's paper…yeah. That should be interesting. :D I'm updating now!
101ISFAN: Aww, yay! Thank you! That's cool; I didn't think that was possible! Here is more. :D
love2burn4tim: Wait. The chapter needed more action? I'm just wondering cause I know it lacked it since it was really just a filler. But I would like to know what you meant cause it helps my writing. I wasn't taking that in a negative way, I'm just curious. :D Thank you for loving it. I'm posting now!!
SH0rti4eva: Awww, man! Oh well, thank you for taking the time to write an uber long review! It's always appreciated! Yeah, I kind of modeled that scene after my own experiences. I've had that same thought slip out before. LOL. :D A song?! Sadly, no. It's not. I'm saving that for later. :D Just wait. :D Good guess though. :D There is some conversation here. Ahaha! Um, I can neither deny nor confirm Jude being set up with that Jonathan dude. :D Thank you for loving it!
charley07: You know how you kept talking about Jude becoming Nine? Well, you get to see her thought process in this chapter. Let's see how long she lasts. :D
A/N: at the bottom (It's another preview!) :D
R&R or R&L please.
THANKS MUCHO!!
'Writing About You':
One day, they would all coincide, some events happening in place of others, but nothing was ever going to take this one pleasure away from him. Not even her.
It was his sanity.
Don't Stand So Close To Me
Chapter 6
"My Theme For Advanced Composition"
She sat at her desk, her legs nervously shaking. She knew why she was nervous, but didn't think her body would react the way it was. She had to sit on her hands so that they wouldn't continue to touch everything surrounding her. It was as if she OCD.
Her poor Starbucks cup had been fixed so many times the paper holder was now frayed on the ends.
She couldn't wait for class to start so she could turn in her paper and get it over with.
There would be no turning back and by the end of the day, hopefully, he would know exactly what she thought and how she felt.
Her only hope was that he wasn't taken aback at her forwardness and actually felt the same things.
He sat at his desk, looking over the previous class' writing sample. Every few seconds he would mark a paper with his red pen, citing any comments he had on their writing and where they could make improvements. He was trying desperately not to look in her direction.
The bell shrilled and the class silenced immediately.
He looked up instantly, taking in the time on the clock. 11:05 am.
He put down his pen and picked up his Starbucks, taking a quick sip. He got out of his seat, taking his cup with him and walked around his desk to the front of the room.
"Alright, let's start. We have lots to do," he announced, scanning the room, his eyes holding a gaze on a blonde for a few seconds longer than the rest. Well, that idea didn't last long.
The class sighed loudly. They had already gotten used to Tom's methodologies and it was only the third day of class. It had to be record.
He leaned against his desk, placing his cup behind him before crossing his arms against his chest.
"Take out your homework. And then get into groups of three or four."
The class was silent of all discussion; binders and backpacks were being opened and closed randomly creating a soothing rhythm.
Tom sat and watched the class take out their assignment and look curiously around them, trying to find viable partners. He had thought of the activity when he arrived at school that morning.
The night before proved to be less than worthy of any planning. He had fallen asleep on his couch only to wake up at two in the morning with a sore neck and a wet pair of boxers.
No, not because of that.
His beer had slipped out of his hand and fallen over, splashing his only piece of clothing and his precious couch.
That morning when he picked up his Starbucks, he asked for two extra shots, thinking he'd need them to get through the day.
He didn't know how right he had been.
She watched him drink his Starbucks, the muscles in his neck flexing as he drank. She tried not to stare, not to make her appreciation noticeable, but she didn't think she was doing a very good job of it as he stared at her before he spoke to the class. His gaze said everything.
He knew she watched him. He wanted her to watch him.
She shook her legs as she waited for his introduction to the day and when he told them to take out their homework, she was the first one to grab her bag and take out her binder.
Anything to move her attention elsewhere.
She flipped her binder opened and pulled the white page from its pocket. She held it with surprisingly steady hands, knowing what was to come. She was instantaneously confident. She wanted to thrust it into his face. Show him how serious she was. It was the only way.
The only way to make him see.
The only way to push him away as well.
She looked around her, silently hoping someone would offer her a place in their group.
But no one did.
She looked off to her far right and saw that same manicured hand flash.
She was calling her over.
The world must have been a cruel place if it was only offering her Eden Kane.
Wait. Not just Eden Kane, but Chastity Feldman too.
Yeah, it was official. Life sucked.
She reluctantly got out of her chair, picked up her notebook, pen, and Starbucks, and walked to the other side of the room. He silently cringed as he noticed where she was going. He wished he had picked the groups himself so that she wouldn't have to go through the torture of spending any more than five minutes with Miss Kane.
But she took the high road. She was going to take the group she was handed and deal with it. Her air pierced his personal space and he perked up, watching the scene in front of him.
His eyes bore through her back as she walked and she knew it. She wanted it.
She walked with ease, knowing that piece of information, using it to her advantage. He gulped as he saw her sit down directly in front of him, crossing her jean-clad legs, letting her perfectly muscular thighs and calves enter his imagination.
Beads of sweat formed on his brow as she smiled obscenely at him. He returned the smile as best as he could, but it was a weak one.
The smile slowly faded from her face and she swiftly turned around, her back becoming his view. She was playing with fire. And they both knew it.
He picked up his Starbucks and sipped it sweetly, waiting for the class to finish. Wondering what he was going to do with his favorite student.
The pair in front of her smiled when she turned around. She smiled back with nothing to say.
"What did you write about?" Chastity asked. Eden answered even though Jude had a feeling the question was directed at her.
"Myself. Duh!" Eden responded.
Jude slightly turned her head and rolled her eyes. Great group, Jude, she thought to herself.
She faced forward completely and looked at the desk she was sitting at. Her hand was placed over her paper as she kept it turned over until it was time to reveal it. She didn't want any surprises.
She was about to turn around and respond to Chastity's question with her own answer, but someone's voice cut her off.
A voice she wanted to hearevery day. Forever.
"You all should have written your name and such on one of the top corners of your paper, right?"
The class nodded. She watched him speak, taking in his face. She noticed the laugh lines that creased as he opened and closed his mouth. Ones she wished she could trace over with her fingers. But she'd have to wait. For now.
"Well, I want you to rip that part of your paper off."
The class gawked at Tom and he laughed. "There is a reason, just do it."
She stared at him, trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. He turned his head towards her and smirked. She was the first one to rip her page. She took great satisfaction in tearing that small piece of paper. She smiled as she placed the scrap of rebellion on the corner of her desk.
The students followed Jude's actions, the room filling with short sounds of ripping paper. When they were done, the class stared back at Tom, each of them smiling.
"Now, I want each group to collect their papers and pass them to the group on their right. Then that group is going to pass those papers to a group across from them. Finally that group is going to take a paper and exchange it with someone sitting next to them."
The class looked at Tom confused, but did as he said. Jude sat frighten and her breathing was shortened. She was afraid to let go of her page. What if they found out? What if they knew it was about him?
She hastily glanced over her page and her nerves were calmed. It could be about anyone. Anyone that mattered to her, but no one in her class would understand.
She was Jude to them. The complete opposite of the words that were displayed on her page. She couldn't feel those things. Think those things.
She was in the clear. For now.
She gave her page to Chastity and in turn Chastity handed their group's pages to a student on her right.
Jude carefully watched as her page made its way through the room.
A massive switch of papers and run-ins later, the class was settled. Jude was settled. To an extent. She tried to place where her page had gone, but amongst the clatter of the classroom, she had lost it.
Now it was gone. And she was wondering what was coming next.
Tom noticed Jude's worried expressions and chalked it up to being nervous about her writing. Whether or not people would like it.
And in a way he was right.
Just not the way he had imagined.
He smiled sweetly at the group and continued his instructions. "The main reason for everything is so that you a.) don't have your own page and b.) don't know whose page you have."
Some semblance of understanding filtered into the room. Jude understood, but that didn't make her nerves disappear.
"What I want you to do next is, in your group, read the pages that you have and between the three or four of you, choose the best one. I'll tell you what to do next once that is complete."
Please, let mine not be the best one, Jude thought as she subconsciously read over another page. She didn't care about someone else's writing.
All she cared about was finding her page and stuffing it into Tom's messenger bag. Then she'd be calm and happy.
Twenty minutes of smirking, smiling, laughing, nodding, and low conversation passed and the groups had their selections.
Tom glanced up at the clock; it read 11:45. They had to move fast.
"I think mine is the best," Eden whispered. Chastity turned around to face her and Jude thought, yeah, you would.
"That's fine," Jude replied, Chastity nodding her head in agreement. The group turned and faced Mr. Quincy.
"Now, I want one person to read the chosen page and when they are done reading, we, as a class, are going to try and decipher whose page that is based on their writing."
Several nods floated into the room. The rest were smiles. The assignment was a hit.
Jude nodded, silently praying that her page was now on the floor underneath someone's shoe rather than in another person's hand, waiting to be read.
"We'll start here," Tom announced, pointing to his left.
Unsurprisingly, the four pages that were read had the names of the author written in it, so it took a few minutes and some comments from the authors themselves before they moved on.
Jude's group was among the four.
The group to Jude's left was up next.
With each passing group, Jude's stomach did flips. And not the kind of flips Tom Quincy was able to provide either.
Tom looked at the clock. 12:00. "This will be our last page, we'll pick up tomorrow with rest."
A young woman with curly brunette hair nodded as Tom stared at her and picked up the page in front of her before reading. She cleared her throat and began.
"You wake up in the morning, turn over in your bed, look at the ceiling, and ask yourself, 'What will she wear today?'" the woman recited in a clear voice.
Jude silently and slowly put her head on her desk. Her head was being to ache, her body lacking the ability to keep itself up right. She was nauseous beyond compare, but nothing was coming up. She wanted to run out the door, find her car, drive far, far away, and die under a rock. She couldn't believe they had chosen it.
It was her paper.
And now everyone was going to know how she felt.
Even Tom Quincy.
Tom felt his knees weak at the opening statement of one of his student's pages. He hadn't expected something like that. Though he had hoped.
He instantly decided it was better if he sat down while the student read then try and keep himself standing. He walked around his desk, sat down in his chair, and held on for dear life.
He had the inclination that he might need all the help he could get.
The brunette student continued reading. "'What will she say today?' 'What will she do today?' 'Who will she see today?' 'Where will she go today?' But the most important question in your mind is, 'Will she think of me today?' But you already know the answer. Yes. She will."
Tom's mind began to imagine each sentence as if it was happening to him, right then and there. He listened closely as his student continued to read the page in front of her.
There was only one person he could think of that filled that void of the 'she' in the page that was being read.
Her.
He wanted more. He needed more.
"You think of her as you shower, as you dress yourself. When you get into your car and turn on the motor, she's in your mind. You wonder what it would be like to wake up next to her. Every day. Forever."
She picked her head up slightly and through her bangs she watched him intently. He was off in some faraway place, his eyes glazed over. She hoped he was thinking about her. About her words.
Because they were true.
Every single one of them.
"What it would be like to hold her in your arms. Every day. Forever. What it would be like to see her. Every day. Forever. To smell her. To taste her. To touch her. To hear her. Every day. Forever."
She wanted it so bad. So bad that it hurt. In every fiber of her being.
Having him a part of her life. Having a relationship with him.
She was so scared though. So scared that what she thought was real would be gone. Gone with the blink of an eye.
But what scared her more was how her thoughts always came back to him. How he invaded every wakening moment in her day. When she was getting up in the morning.
When she drove herself to school and had to pretend she was listening to her best friends talk. When she made it to her locker.
During each of her classes. Most importantly during his class. Even when she left school altogether.
When she lay on her bed at night before drifting off to sleep. A sleep that included him in her dreams.
"What it would be like to kiss her. Every day. Forever," the brunette said to the class, groups of students slightly snickering in the corners.
She sat there at her desk; her face covered by her arms and her hair and gazed at the carpeted floor. She wondered what would become of her if and when he decided this 'thing' was not what he wanted anymore. Was not what he planned. When she was not what he wanted.
That was her worst fear.
What would she do?
"What it would be like to make love to her. Every day. Forever," the brunette continued as a rose color started to flourish all over her face and the faces of many of her peers.
His eyes glanced over each of his students as he listened to the words off of that page. He tried to pinpoint who had written it. He wanted to know. He needed to know.
And it was with the next line that he instantly knew.
"Because you want her. With you. Every day. Forever. Because you love her. Every day. Forever."
It's her, he thought.
It had always been her. He knew it. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew.
Every line that she had written was true. She was what he wanted. Only her. All of her. Every day. Forever.
The brunette cleared her throat and continued, reading another section of the page that sounded familiar. "You wake up in the morning, turn over in your bed, look at the ceiling, and ask yourself, 'What will he wear today?' 'What will he say today?' 'What will he do today?' 'Who will he see today?' 'Where will he go today?' But the most important question in your mind is, 'Will he think of me today?' But you already know the answer. Yes. He will."
She knew she was on his mind. There was no doubt. But she couldn't brush away her feelings of uncertainty that whatever they had going was not going to happen. And when she thought that, she felt herself grow dizzy.
She didn't know what she would do if their relationship didn't pan out the way she wanted it to.
What would become of her?
Her thoughts were already ambushed by him. And that's when he was around.
What if he wasn't anymore?
She would go crazy.
That was for sure.
But she was going to do everything she could for that not to happen. No matter what.
"You think of him as you shower, as you dress yourself. When you get into your car and turn on the motor, he's in your mind. You wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him. Every day. Forever."
The class sat enthralled with the page. It spoke mountains of something they had only dreamed of, whether or not they'd admit that. And one of their classmates had captured just that.
But the question was who?
"What it would be like to hold him in your arms. Every day. Forever. What it would be like to see him. Every day. Forever. To smell him. To taste him. To touch him. To hear him. Every day. Forever. What it would be like to kiss him. Every day. Forever. What it would be like to make love to him. Every day. Forever. Because you want him. With you. Every day. Forever. Because you love him. Every day. Forever."
Jude's classmate took one last deep breath, before finishing the page. It was then that Jude fully emerged her face from underneath her mounds of hair and stared straight at Tom.
He could feel her gaze and immediately returned it, his eyes shining.
She recited the last line to him, silently, as her classmate finished.
"Because I Love You. Every day. Forever."
His face remained unfazed, but his eyes fired. His heart soared. It was a very daring thing to do as Jude had done. But he understood her because he felt that same way.
But he couldn't let that get in the way of something equally important. His job as a teacher.
Her teacher, he reminded himself.
"Who was the author?" he asked the class.
They stared back at him, eyes wide, but completely unknowing.
"Any guesses?"
Many of his students shook their heads and Jude was thankful. She didn't want anyone to know.
Unless they asked her themselves.
"Can I take a guess?" Tom asked the class. Jude closed her eyes and swallowed hard. He was going to out her in front of everyone. And she had no one to blame but herself.
The class nodded, waiting for his take on what they had heard.
"Jude."
The class turned and faced Jude who reluctantly opened her eyes and stared at Tom. She silently scolded herself and he knew because he smirked back at her.
"You wrote that?" Eden asked loudly. None of them could believe that Jude had written something like that. Something completely different than what they thought of her. They were duly impressed.
Jude nodded silently; it was all she could do with his eyes gazing at her.
"I loved it," Chastity commented. A few of Jude's peers said the same thing.
"Thanks," Jude replied, whispering hoarsely.
The bell rang loudly as the class jumped up to leave to lunch. Tom stayed put, he didn't release them, but he didn't ask them to stay. Jude was glued to her seat, her legs surprisingly tired.
As the class walked out, Jude's peers spit out dozens of lines from her page, telling her how much they loved it.
But Jude stopped listening. She knew her page by heart. She had written it and therefore, it was true. It was her truth.
And she'd be damned if it wasn't his as well.
He watched her reluctantly get out of her chair and walk to her original desk. He didn't say anything and she didn't either.
The class was barren by the time Jude put all her stuff together. She threw her bag over her shoulder and glanced to her side. He was silently staring back at her.
She didn't know what to say. She had said everything she had thought to say on her page. What else did he want?
But she knew he had never asked for her thoughts.
And yet she gave them anyway.
She looked down at her Converses as her eyes started to tear. He heard her muffled sniffling and immediately got out of his seat and walked up to her.
He couldn't stand when someone cried. Especially someone he cared about.
He looked around him before making any other movements. He was in a public place and if anything was seen or heard, he would be in so much trouble.
He looked back at Jude who was still staring at her shoes.
She knew he was there. That's what she wanted. But she didn't want him to be standing in front of her listening to her cry.
She wanted him to be standing in front of her when she was happy and smiling and looking him in the face. Not now.
The closeness of his body was making Jude very nervous. She wanted to turn and walk away, but she couldn't make herself do it.
He reached out and placed his hand underneath her chin, making her look at him. She was surprised by his touch. She knew where they were at and what they were doing there would not be taken lightly if someone found out. But his touch reassured her slightly. It reminded her of how alike they were; two rebellious hearts.
His rough fingers held her chin for a few more seconds before he let go. She stared at him, wondering what he was going to do. If he was going to say anything.
He looked at her, her eyes slightly red from her tears, her face flushed. Although she would be unlikely to agree, he thought she was beautiful.
He tilted his head slightly, taking her face in. She instinctively grabbed his face with her own hands. His breath caught in his throat, surprised by her actions.
When he was close enough to see his own reflection in her eyes, he knew what had to be done. He breathed in her scent intensely, letting the sight in front of him burn into his mind forever.
He opened his mouth and her hope soared. Chills ran all over her body as he spoke, letting her hold his face in her hands.
"I think you should go," he whispered hoarsely, his breath blowing against her face.
She gazed at him, taking in his eyes as they exposed all of his seriousness. She was inexplicably crushed. She instantly let go of his face, causing him to almost fall into her, but he caught himself before that happened. She took a deep breath and nodded, trying to hold back any unshed tears. Her whole body was in shock, her breathing became quicker and her mind became foggy. She needed to get out. Away from him.
She was so hopeful that he was finally going to kiss her. Or that she was going to kiss him. Either way she thought that had been the moment.
But as much as she regretted that the moment passed, she understood.
She couldn't let herself slip up like that. She was at school. He was her teacher. And for now, where they were at was all that mattered.
She pulled the handles to her bag tighter to her body and grabbed her Starbucks before walking away and out the door without taking a glance over her shoulder.
He watched her face fall as he opened his mouth and said those words. But he knew she understood.
He was her teacher, first and foremost. He had to continually remind himself of that as it was.
When he watched her walk away without looking back at him, his body slumped.
He threw himself into his chair and stared at the door, hoping that she'd come back and tell him she understood and that someday, when the time was right, they would kiss. Like a normal couple.
But he knew they would never be a normal couple. As long as he was her teacher and she was his student.
And even with that fact daunting over his head, he hoped he hadn't made the single most worst mistake of his life by letting her walk away.
A/N: Preview
Chapter Seven
"The First Workshop"
The fall leaves crunched underneath the students' feet as they made their way home or to a different location on campus. It was November and Fall had begun. Jude loved the bare trees and cold air against her skin.
But she wanted to be anywhere other than where she was dragging herself at the moment.
-+-+-+-+-+-
Jude rolled her eyes. She had to go. She didn't want to fail the class. And she sure as hell didn't want to give Tom anymore reason to push her away.
-+-+-+-+-+-
Jude looked at the door and the person who stood in the threshold.
He was not laughing.
"You're late, Miss Harrison."
A/N 2: The mixed preview option from last chapter still applies. This will have one more chance after this since Chapter Eight will come up after my next update. Just try! You might be the only one and then you'd get the preview either way. :D