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You watched him from afar, doing the best you can in his class. You ditched school in the middle of the day to follow him to the next place he'd teach at - however possible with him on a motorbike and you on foot. You lost him and tried again on the next day.
When you managed to follow him to the next school, you got stopped by their guard.
Next, you found a spot to wait for him to leave outside your school gates. The guard saw you, reported it to the headmaster and lead you back inside.
Another time, you tried to pursue him but he reached the highway and sped up, enough to be impossible to follow after.
Repeated enough times to raise suspicion, teachers inquired into your absence but gave up when they simply saw your face. You didn't understand why and you didn't bother to ask why.
You focused on your goal.
That time, when you followed him outside the school gate, you noticed a shift in pattern.
He used to chain his motorbike right under the school guard's watch at the gate. That time, he hadn't. You peeked around a corner and saw him crouching near the bike. Somebody must have messed with it - he inspected and prodded but it never started.
A gust of wind slapped a plastic bag onto you and you squealed, revealing your location. His head snapped back at you.
"You!" He pointed an accusing finger at you. "Aren't you from 10A? What's your name again?"
Stunned into silence you could only wish to disappear.
"Why are you doing this? First I see you skip school, then I get told you skip school to follow me and now you've gone so low as to sabotage my bike?"
"I didn't -"
"I saw you on the school security footage. The headmaster showed me. You can't lie your way out of this."
"But your bike, I didn't... I don't know how-"
His face scrunched in a frown as he folded his arms. "But you admit to everything else?"
"...Yes." You were on the verge of tears. "But I didn't mean to." Your fists clenched tightly. You were going to lose him if this went badly. You did so much for so long to get closer and it was going to be ruined because you fucked it up somehow.
Fat tears leaked out of your eyes as you stood still, staring at his collarbone. Close enough to show you were not looking away, yet far enough from his eyes to feel safe from showing how you felt.
He stepped closer, shortening the distance between you but keeping it respectful still.
Something reached your ears but you couldn't hear it. Your heartbeat thrummed loudly in your ears. He repeated himself. "What were you trying to do?"
"I don't know." Your glance fell to the ground and you took a step back to lean against the wall you were only just using as a hiding spot. You slipped downwards and buried your face in your knees. "I... Like you."
"Oh." He shivered as a mixture of disgust, pity and resentment washed over him. "You know I can't accommodate that, right?"
"Yes, of course I do."
"Great." Sweat prickled his forehead. Now what? He expected to give you a scolding but then he got mixed up.
He extended out an arm to you. "Come on, get up at least. I don't want you to sit on the cold, dirty floor."
You took his arm, not intending to get up as you looked up at his face. In this proximity you could see him in full detail. The charm he held in the classroom was nothing but a mirage. He looked like just another man.
Another middle aged man with textured skin, greasy forehead, messy eyebrows, large pores, sharp eyes and ratty brown hair that turned copper in the sunlight, evenly shaped lips and sharp jawline... Even his less attractive features couldn't sway you from that crushing feeling of infatuation.
"I just really, really, like you." You bravely looked into his eyes. Despite his earlier rejection, he was still willing to hear you out. You decided to leap forward - one last chance to make it all right, maybe even win.
"I think I'm in love with you. I can't get you out of my head. At first I wasn't sure but I just feel like I lose my mind if I can't see you." You squeezed his hand in yours. Your eye contact with him was intense. You kept going further in.
"I can't sleep without dreaming of you. I lost all interest in studying unless it's for you or with you. I can't be without you. Please, please help me."
You pulled him closer by his still extended arm. It took no effort. He kneeled in front of you. His eyes couldn't remain on either one of yours, constantly shifting anxiously. Would he take you? You made it so easy for him.
"I can't." His eyes were as gentle as you've ever seen them. "Or, rather, I won't. I shouldn't."
You could smell the coffee on his breath. And yet he was so far. Incredibly far. You thought that you would cry but nothing came out. You felt nothing. It hurt and yet you felt nothing.
"I see." You saw him tense at your response. He must have seen your eyes dim. "I understand."
Of course he wouldn't want you. Maybe if you were hiding it better than you did. Maybe if you were more attractive. Maybe if you were smarter or more impressive. Maybe if you had never met him. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt.
He got up, his arm still in yours. He pulled and you let yourself be lifted. Your eyes returned to his collarbone. You went all-in and lost it all in a single bet. That was why you never took risks. The one time you did, it burned you.
Your mind disconnected from reality. Time seemed to stretch forever and also move too fast. By the time you got back, you got startled by his arms on either side of you, pinning you to the wall. Panicking, your raised your head and your glance found his.
He was breathing in slowly, carefully measured and methodical. What did you miss? What was he suppressing?
"I wish you never came here today."
Your heartbeat rose once again in fear and excitement. Would he?
His eyes bore into you. He was trying his best to not ogle you. He could lose to you now. He was weak. You lost the battle but you could win the war.
"W-why?"
"Why would you do this to me? Do you want me to lose my job? Do you want me to stop teaching you, if you like me so much?!" He kept raising his voice. His anger leaked out.
"Why would you come onto me like this? You should never, ever, do this to an old man like me."
This was a critical moment. You felt like you could win at the cost of everything, again. You bet it all and went all-in.
"I..."
But you failed. You wanted to grab him by his face and go to town on him. You wanted to jump into his arms and fly away. You wanted him to take you, right then and there.
Your fear overrode your bet. Emergency shutdown, again.
You whimpered pitifully.
He removed one arm from the wall. His hand hovered over your chest only to clench into a shaking fist. He pushed himself away from you and turned around to his bike.
He crouched to get a closer look at it.
You whispered. "I'm sorry."
He dug in his pocket and took out a key.
You whined. "It's all my fault. I'm sorry."
He unlocked the chain and let it drop noisily to the ground. He turned his face to you.
"Sure. Now go home. Stop bothering me and stop ruining your studies."
His wrinkles deepened as he frowned. You really upset him. Even more than before. Now he knows you're a stalker and a creep. A stupid girl that falls for the wrong person and thinks she deserves it like the whore she is.
Your tears finally showed up at the worst time. You took off running blindly and left him to his useless bike.
When you got home, you couldn't stand the pain. The burn in your lungs from your run wasn't enough. Your muscles aching wasn't enough. You let yourself be seen and look what it did. You needed to be punished.
You walked to your room and closed the door behind you. Your parents mustn't know about this. You threw you bag on the floor, kicked your shoes off and started tearing at your clothes until you were naked in front of your mirror.
A poor sight. No matter how much you worked out. No matter how much you ate or refused to. You just didn't look right. You were just born wrong.
You bent over your bag and took out a pair of scissors. You got rid of your box knives but you wouldn't get rid of scissors. The pair you took to school was dull. It didn't matter. You just needed the relief.
Standing closer to the mirror you watched as you cut horizontal lines on your wrist. Droplets of blood appeared occasionally. After enough of your wrist became reddened from the rough drag of your scissors and blood, you stopped.
You rotated your newly decorated arm as you took it in. Shame poisoned you when the high was receding. You wanted to sob but couldn't.
You felt numb. It made you feel worse. You fell into your bed and closed your eyes.
He appeared in the darkness for you. You felt your body heat go up. You reminisced about him. He was so close. You almost kissed him.
Your lonely heart constructed a fantasy for you. In it, he did just what you wanted to do. Instead of pushing off the wall when he had you pinned, you imagined him slamming his mouth into yours, taking you by surprise.
You dreamed of how he would remove his arms from the wall to grope you, hold you, caress you.
You fantasized about his tongue in your mouth, tasting like his breath smelled. You shuddered.
You started to run your hands on yourself like you imagined he would.
You made out with nothing but air as if he were there to take your tongue in his mouth.
Your fingers touched and prodded and pinched and fingered and groped and fucked and held like you wanted him to.
"Oh, god. Why did I tell him?" You said. And then you felt the intense pleasure spiking, reaching it's peak. You kept on going as the waves kept rolling over you.
You stopped. You felt your breathing slow. You felt relieved.
You made a mess of yourself. Shame crawled back into your mind as you got up from the bed. You put on a bathrobe and strode into the bathroom.
When the cold water hit your back, you hissed. As the water slowly turned warmer, your tears started to flow. You sobbed in the shower.