Blue Butterflies

***Two***

Today Simon has an after-school appointment with the tennis club, so my only use of transportation is by foot. Apart from being the biggest flirt on this side of the equator, he’s the best tennis player that this school has seen in years. I always believed it to be the reason behind repeating the year, because if the school keeps him around for longer, he could keep bringing home the gold. As I hit the pavement, a strange car pulled up beside me. The window rolled down. “Genevieve!” I instantly recognized the voice to belong to Margo. I turned my attention to her direction just to find myself lost in her brother’s eyes. He stared straight at me. “Get in,” he offered kindly as he opened the door for me to enter. I thanked him shyly (which struck me as odd because I had never before been the shy type) and avoided his stare as best I could. I looked up just to trap myself once again in the perfect gaze that stared at me through the rear-view mirror. I gave him my address, and he typed it in on the GPS-locator. Before putting the car into drive, he stared at me again. Suddenly, this feeling within me feels like an impropriate one. An illegal emotion bubbles inside of me like an over-overbuilding kettle.

He rode up the driveway and parked in front of the double garage (from which my parents emerged). Enthusiastically, he explained how they became my transportation, and on a “Thank You” note, mom invited them in for a cup of coffee. Eagerly Mr. Anderson accepted. I couldn’t help myself as to check out his perfect rear-end as he entered the house. They sat down in the living area and fell deep into conversation. “You seem a bit young to be a high school educator,” my father threw his way. He caught it effortlessly and explained how he had to step up and provide for his sister after the passing of their parents. He informed my parents how he studied from home and made special arrangements so that he wouldn’t miss out on any exams.

It seemed to have a struggling process, but they made it out alright. “Geni dear, why don’t you show Margo your room?” My mother asked chirpily. I led her up the stairs, down the corridor, past the upstairs bathroom towards my sweet escape. The one place in the house where my secrets won’t leak and spill all over the living room carpet and stain it like a bottle of cheap red wine. A secret that should stay under the radar at any price. Margo and I sat around, talking about unimportant things, when my mom’s voice bellowed throughout the house. As we walked down the staircase, my gaze locked with that of my English teacher’s. My breathing caught up in my throat, like a mouse stuck in the hole as it tried to escape the big tabby cat. I swallowed wryly, and tugged a stray hair behind my ear. “So Misha, will you and Margo be joining Geni’s party this Friday evening?” Mom questioned. He looked me straight in the eyes as he answered with a broad smile, which made my insides turn into goo. “Absolutely, we wouldn’t miss it!” My heart sprouted like a wildfire.

Leave it to mom to skip to a first-name basis after a single cup of coffee. Misha! The name rolls smoothly over my lips. That settles it; there will be no way of getting around the fact that he will be joining my birthday get-together. If only I weren’t the center of everyone’s attention. I sunk down on to my bed with a deep sigh. I just hope that this situation doesn’t scare me into hiding. I am meddling with dangerous substances. He can’t be much older than thirty, but still, I’ll be a minor for another year. That information alone should add up to forbidden space. What am I even thinking? This is illegal on so many levels and I know it. Those blue eyes of his aren’t supposed to affect me in such a physical way and neither are they supposed to be heaving through my soul. That smile isn’t supposed to swallow me up whole. I am not to desire him. Sure, he’s an undeniably hot man, handsome in every possible way, but unfortunately, he’s my English teacher. My fantasized thoughts revolving around him are a big no-no. I opened up the bag of treats and threw the contents onto the bed. Cute little cookies, (decorated in silver balls and 100’s and 1000s) along with wrapped up candies parades in a hodgepodge pattern upon the face of my blue and purple comforter. I picked up a biscuit and took a bite. A sweet granny biscuit plays with my taste buds. Who made these? It’s absolutely delicious.

It’s already Friday! I can’t believe how quickly this week passed. Today I am officially seventeen years of age. This feeling that I have towards my teacher had yet to wither away, but it grew beyond my comprehension. If I could be late for my own party I wouldn’t think twice about that option. In all truthfulness, I don’t particularly feel like going at all. Twice this passing week, I had to depend on the Anderson’s when it came to transportation. I think, my personal assumption, he might have noticed something was up, but he’s not giving me crap about it either.

Could it be that he fancies me too? Absolutely not. That’s a wild accusation. Surely, being in the grasp of the adult world, he must have a beautiful companion to comply with his every wish and command (and I’m not referring to his sister). The mere thought, however, that he might be in a relationship doesn’t sit well with me. The green-eyed monster dug her nails deeper into my skin, every time the thought crosses my mind.

Currently, I’m sitting in Math class; I’m not paying much attention to Principle Philips’ lecture, and it’s not because I don’t find his lessons interesting. On the contrary, I’ve always appreciated it, but today there’s just too much going on in my head. It’s only going to be a small family gathering, with the exception of a few friends joining the get-together. Including: Simon, Margo and her brother Mr. Anderson aka Misha, better known as my English teacher.

Which swimwear would befit this evening’s activities? It’s September, so it’s not too cold outside anymore. The spring sun is already setting into motion by warming up the air. According to the forecast, we can prepare ourselves for a nice evening, warm and delightful. The bell chimed, acknowledging the students that another week was complete. Harrison promised to give me a ride home, so I wouldn’t see Simon or the Anderson’s until later. Inwardly, I am extremely grateful, but coming to think of it, I wouldn’t have minded otherwise. I am so screwed up. Seriously, I don’t know precisely what I want to obtain. Yet among everything there’s only one thing that I am absolutely sure about (even if he might have somebody in his life). I want the one person that’s forbidden to have above all costs. The one thing that I know my young heart isn’t supposed to desire. Mr. Anderson!