It was not even close to lunchtime, but I found myself in the girl's bathroom, seeking refuge; don't let my current location fool you. I have claimed a vacant cubicle to indulge in a personal moment. Puffing away on weed. I was well aware that smoking was not permitted in this area, and I highly doubt that anyone would be able to detect the smell of smoke from outside the bathroom. Besides, I was not going to survive these classes without a slight boost. Especially after the morning disaster. Speaking of this morning. Mr. Cross was unlike any teacher I had encountered in this dumb school. I wondered if he truly knew what he was doing or if he was just winging it. The more I tried to analyse his behaviour, the more confused I became, and then it hit me. I could not even contemplate his behaviour without experiencing a strange sensation in my gut.

I inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. I know my fellow students like to label me as just another addict because I smoke, but let me set the record straight. I only started smoking after I was hospitalised, and it became a way for me to cope. I was not saying it was a healthy coping mechanism, but it was what worked for me. Another fact: I loved the rush of smoking. The sensation and carefree high it brought. The simple act of lighting my weed and taking a drag was all I needed to let go and relax. Furthermore, for me, smoking weed was like the fucking Holy Grail of turn-ons. It typically makes me want sex, and so vibrator became my best friend.

While we are at it, let me just say, weed was not the only drug I experimented with. I know some people did not consider marijuana a'real drug’, but for me, it definitely had some mind-altering effects. Anyway, when I was around fifteen, I tried ecstasy. I did not even know what it was at the time. I just saw a pill bottle on my mother’s boyfriend's dresser and thought it might help with my headache. So, I popped one without a second thought. Laying on that bed, I was so chill and relaxed that I forgot about popping those pills earlier. After half an hour, I started feeling strange in my body. This was like next-level weirdness. Later that day, my mother’s boyfriend came home and noticed that one of his pills was missing. He went nuts on my mom. He even asked his sons if they had taken it, but they denied it. Then he came to my room, but I was not about to get involved in that drama. Even if it was my making.

That night, Chump beat up my mother. I could hear her screams from my bedroom. I ran downstairs and saw him just wailing at her, throwing punches left and right. My wonderful readers, I was scared shitless, but I could not just stand there and watch. I jumped in and tried to pull him off, but he was a big guy and just pushed me away like it was nothing.

Oh, man. That crazy bastard! He deserved to be where he was. Locked up.

When I was done smoking, the first thing I did was rummage through my bag for some peppermint gum. I had to get rid of that smoke smell, then I was ready to leave school for the day. Maybe I will visit the mall and do some window shopping. I plugged in my earphones and started jamming to my favourite tunes as I strutted down the hallway. Nothing like a good beat to elevate my mood after a smoke break. When I hear a killer tune, everything just blends, you know? The beat. The lyrics. The melody. It all just becomes this perfect, groovy mix. I was walking down the hall feeling so freaking high. Music cranked up. Totally in my world. The next thing I know, I crashed right into someone.

I dropped to the ground.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed with surprise. "Why don't you pay attention to where you are walking?"

"Am I supposed to take the blame for our collision even though you weren't paying attention?"

This was not happening! Mr Cross!

After a prolonged period of lying still, desperately hoping that the man would simply leave, I gradually rose to my feet because it became apparent that Mr. Cross had no intention of leaving. To my surprise, Mr. Cross was standing directly in front of me, and our eyes locked in a moment of intense connection.

“Could you elaborate on your previous statement about tomorrow being a special day?” Mr. Cross enquired with genuine interest.

My thoughts swirled as I murmured, "It is my eighteenth birthday."

My mind felt foggy, and I could not break my gaze away. Maybe it was the heightened state of mind I was in, but it was adding to the intensity of my focus on Mr Cross.

“Miss Evans…” Mr. Cross grabbed my chin and tilted my head upwards. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a rush of both surprise and intimidation. His touch was firm and commanding. It caused a delicious shiver to run down my spine. I could feel myself visibly blushing under his intense gaze.

Despite my efforts to resist, I was no match for his unwavering strength. Helpless and subdued, I silently submitted to his intense inspection.

“Are you high?” His eyes narrowed with a dangerous intensity. A clear display of displeasure was etched onto his face.

I burst into laughter, feeling completely elevated. Shit! My mind spun wildly. Why did I have to choose the absolute worst day to smoke weed? If I had been thinking properly, none of the events happening right now would be unfolding. It felt as if my brain was completely checked out.

I let out another laugh. "Are you planning on talking to the principal, Mr. substitute?" I quipped, playfully shaking my head from side to side.

“I am considering what to do,” he said in that sexy, rich British accent.

“You are weird,” I thought aloud.

"I have been called far worse.” His gaze spoke volumes. Filled with a wicked charm that left me breathless.

I might not have a lot of experience with men, but I was certain that the way that Mr. Cross's finger pressed against my bottom lip would get him fired. Yet, it sparked a fiery sensation in me.

"Your hair is quite dishevelled," he observed.

Suddenly, I noticed that my hoodie had slipped off my head. It must have happened when I accidentally bumped into him. How could I have been so oblivious? I blame you, marijuana. I quickly retreated from his touch and sprinted away without a second thought. Mr. Cross will be the death of me! In all my seventeen years of living, I have never met anyone who could get under my skin. I was not even sure if that was a good thing or not. I felt crazy. Such a strong pull of attraction I felt towards a man I did not know. He was my teacher, and I was his student. It was a forbidden territory. A line that should never be crossed. Even if, by some crazy stroke of luck, Mr. Cross and I decided to leap into the forbidden world of relationships and desires. It would be no easy feat. He would put his job and reputation on the line. As for me? Well, I had nothing to lose.

I laughed as I walked down the empty hallway. It was rare for me to be in such a pleasant mood. Ugh! Seriously? I literally could not believe my luck. Out of all the people in this huge school, I had to run into her—the school counsellor. I gritted my teeth in frustration. After I endured a tumultuous period in my life, I was required to meet with the guidance counsellor at least once a week. Ever since I first met Miss Bailey, I have noted a sense of superiority and arrogance in her manner. She spoke to me in a condescending manner. Belittled me and dismissed my ideas.So, after some thought, I decided to stop going altogether. Evading her presence, I found refuge in an empty classroom. On closer inspection, I realise it was the music room. 

The walls were embellished with vibrant posters of renowned artists, and the shelves were meticulously organised with stacks of sheet music. This room was expansive and illuminated, thanks to the generous sunlight pouring in through the large windows. The ambience was cosy and welcoming, making it a pleasant escape. I let out a big sigh as I plopped myself down on the windowsill, looking out onto the football field. Empty and desolate. No players running drills. No students cheering. No coach shouting. Not even a freaking bird chirping. But at the same time, it was like the silence was screaming at me. Ugh. I hated it. The stupid silence made everything worse. It seemed to amplify all of my negative thoughts and emotions. Memories that I thought I had buried deep down came flooding back.

It was too much to handle, and I only wanted the silence to go away.