He sat with Joey and Ben and some three boys, since K.T said they should stop dealing in school for a while. When the laugher got big he had to ask about it. This time the victim of Ben’s joke was another kid who was once known for pissing his pants back in the eighth grade. 

The laughter stopped again. Skitzo and K.T were passing with their crew. They all wore grim stares, directed at Ben and the boys he sat with. Ben fired back with his own grim stare. The looks appeared threatening. They only passed, walking slowly, following each other. Brandon expected Ben to say something about them. Instead Ben continued to talk about whatever he was talking about. 

That’s when Brandon returned to his thoughts. His hand still hurt from that outburst, but the heart hurt more. But not as much as the pinch. She had mocked him. But when did he become so ill-tempered? He couldn’t recall the last time he threw an outburst like that, simply because it never happened. This moment of reflection made him realize how irrational he’d been. Maybe Skitzo and the others had influenced him in a way. Maybe they didn’t. His anger had soared to new heights. For him to respond in such a reflex motion.

Shame engulfed him. Surely the teacher must think him mad. Irrational. Immature. All the things he wished she’d never see in him. Just a small boy. He had to show her he’s not that. He’s a man, that’s what she must know. But most of all he had to show her how he felt. 

Hours later after the bell rang for afterschool he walked to her class, Room 23. Learners were spilling out in groups. He found her biding some of them goodbye. When she saw him her lips dropped into a frown. It’s only the two of them in class; the last learner had just gotten out.

“You are here to get pinched again,” she said. 

“No,” he said. 

“It’s not a question.”

“I’m here to apologize, Ma’am.”

She crossed her arms and looked at him straight in the eye. Those brown hazel eyes of hers. Marbles. He took two steps towards her. She remained still, standing tall in her red high-heels. The tallness seemed to amplify the difference in their positions. She’s older than him. She’s the teacher; he’s a learner. Small boy. Brandon reckoned if she wasn’t wearing any heels she and him would be the same height. 

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. I was just – ” 

“I appreciate the apology. But I have no interest in why you did what you did. Is that all? If yes, please leave.”

“That’s all, Ma’am.”

“Alright.”

“Do you forgive me?”

She perked her chin up. “I’ll think about it.”

“It will never happen again,” he said. 

“Of course.”

“Actually that’s not all, Ma’am. I’d like to request a favor.”

“I’m not your friend,” she said. 

“What?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not your friend. Maybe that’s how you are with the other teachers, but don’t try that with me. Get out.”

“Please give me a lift back home.”

“I don’t want to,” she said. Nothing could ever change her mind. Her face scrunched up. 

“Why don’t you want to?” Brandon asked. 

“I said get out.”

“You gave me a lift before. Why not again?”

“I’m not your transport,” she said.

“I never said that, Ma’am. I just want a ride back home. One last time.”

“No.”

“Is it because of what happened? Haven’t I apologized?”

She ignored him. She went around her desk and collected her handbag and car keys. She held the books on the crook of her arm. Preparatory for her departure. Brandon closed the door, and she paused. 

“Or you scared of what will happen if you give me a lift,” he said, going to her.

“Open that door, boy.”

“You scared, aren’t you?”

“Open that door.”

Brandon stood next to her, blocking her way. “You nervous.”

“Nervous of what?”

“Of being alone with me. That’s why you don’t want to give me a lift. You know what will happen.”

“And what will happen?”

He neared his face towards hers for a kiss. She smacked him in the cheek, his face turned to the side. He pressed his hand where she slapped him. The cheek felt warm. It looked red, like he was blushing. For a moment he thought she’ll slap him again. He waited, but the hand never came. Then he thought she’ll pinch him and he readied himself for that, too. But it never happened.

Brandon, angry, tried for another kiss, more forceful this time. He blocked the slap with his hand. His mouth found hers, but she cringed and turned her face away. Her eyes closed. “Don’t fight it, Ma’am,” he muttered. He wanted her. He wanted her so bad, he didn’t notice that he’s violating her. He did notice, and he didn’t care. Anyways, he wouldn’t go that far. His plan was to get her responsive. To prove that she wanted this. 

And she did.

After a struggle she didn’t fight it anymore. Giving up, giving into the need, Nicole kissed him back. His hands were already around her waist by then. Hers were around his neck. 

Then she tried to push him back but it seemed like his mouth was glued on hers. “Stop,” she whispered. “We’re in class.” She pushed him. “We are in class.”

He seemed to have forgotten that, unaware of anything else besides this. He let go of her, his lips wet. He breathed hard, and so did she. “Let’s go somewhere else, then.”

“No.” She wiped her mouth. 

“Come on.”

“Won’t you ever learn what “No” means?” 

“With you I don’t think I will.”

“Yeah, well, you should,” she said. “Because I’m your teacher. What do you think would’ve happened if someone walked in?”

“I wouldn’t have cared to be honest,” he told her. “I like you.”

“That’s bogus.” 

“Take a look in the mirror and you’ll see why it’s not. Please, Ma’am.” He took her hand. “Let’s go somewhere else.” 

The door opened and she immediately pulled her hand from his.

“Nicole,” said Mrs. Cobblestone behind. “We have a meeting, have you forgotten?” She walked in. “Boy,” she said to Brandon. 

He greeted her back, then he left, as if nothing happened.