To my surprise Mr. Cross was standing directly in front of me. Our eyes locked in a moment of intense connection.

I could not deny the fact that the sheer presence of this stranger had momentarily overcome me. In all honesty, I felt a bit foolish and unsure of how to react.

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

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

As I watched him, my mind felt foggy. I could not seem to 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 found myself silently submitting to his intense inspection. It was impossible to conceal my vulnerabilities as he scrutinised me with a piercing gaze.

“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 tattling 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.

He smirked. “I have been called far worse.”

His gaze spoke volumes. Filled with a wicked charm that left me breathless.

Although I might not have a lot of experience with men, I was certain that the way that Mr. Cross's finger gently pressed against my bottom lip would get him fired. And 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 foolish and 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! Seriously. In all my seventeen years of living, I had never met anyone who could get under my skin. I was not even sure if that was a good thing or not. It was 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. The man would be putting his job and reputation on the line. And me? Well, I had nothing to lose.

I was not going to make it through these classes with him. That man was pure temptation. Was it any wonder so many of us sinned?

I laughed as I walked down the empty hallway. It was rare for me to be in such a light-hearted and pleasant mood. I could not even recall the last time I had laughed at myself with such pure bliss. And the reason for my wonderful mood? Well, it was just too obvious. My incredibly hot substitute teacher. It almost seemed like a cruel joke… like God was playing a prank on me. Tease me with my ultimate fantasy while knowing I could never have him.

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 guidance counsellor. I could not help but grit my teeth in frustration.

My readers. 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. Assuming that I was unable to comprehend. She belittled me and dismissed my ideas. It would not surprise me if she played a part in the school's choice to hold me back for another year.

I kind of started realising that her sessions were just not cutting it for me. I mean, they were seriously lacking in any real substance and did not give me any useful guidance. So, after some thought, I decided to stop going altogether.

Evading her presence, I found refuge in an empty classroom. As I took a closer look, I realised 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 ambiance was cozy 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 all I wanted was for the silence to go away.