The remainder of the weekend passes in a blur. Squashing every urge to stalk her and fuck her again, I resolve that this will be the week I let her go for good. When Monday rolls around, I take relief in the fact that she doesn’t have class that day. But when the time for after school detention comes and she doesn’t show, it feels like a slap in the face. Of course, she doesn’t actually have detention. She’s served her sentence, and there is no logical reason she should be here. But that hasn’t stopped her from showing up every day regardless. Until today.
My irritation only compounds when on Tuesday, she doesn’t show for class either. When I ask Sybil where she’s at, she tells me that Stella is sick, which I already know from the attendance logs, but that isn’t the explanation I want to hear.
Stella isn’t sick. This much I know. But I suspect her absence has everything to do with the fact that news of her father has just gone public, and now the entire school knows. I wonder how she’s handling it, and then I berate myself for thinking I could ever care. I am a Carter, after all.
By Thursday, I’m strung so tight it’s inevitable that I’m going to snap. And when she finally shows her face in my class, it’s the first time I feel like I can breathe again. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, or what I’m even supposed to be doing for the lesson plan today, which becomes apparent to the entire class as I fumble around with my paperwork. It’s at this point the chatter starts, and Louisa makes a point to let her voice be heard above all the rest when my back is turned.
“Hey Stella, nice outfit. Did your daddy steal that too? Maybe you should consider changing your signature color to prison orange so you guys can match.”
Her friends start to snicker before joining in on the witch hunt with their own remarks. “Will you have to do sexual favors to spring him?” Libby adds.
“I’m sure she’ll see him again soon. She can work off some of his time,” Louisa retorts. “On her back.”
Slowly, I turn and meet Stella’s gaze. Her cheeks are red, and it’s painfully obvious she’s on the verge of tears as Sybil turns around to defend her. But I interject before she can say anything.
“Louisa.” Her name snaps from my mouth like a whip, and she jumps before swiveling her head in my direction. She thinks she’s untouchable because her father donates sizable contributions to the school every year to make up for her hellish behavior. But today, she will come to understand that unlike the rest of the staff, my willful ignorance is not for sale. “I’d like to see you and Libby in the hallway. Now. Gather your things, you won’t be coming back here today.”
The classroom falls silent as Louisa and Libby gather their things with wide-eyed expressions and follow me into the hall. I had the best of intentions to remain professional, but Louisa is already opening her mouth, armed with an excuse for her behavior.
“It was just a joke, Mr. Carter,” she says sourly. “We didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Do you think it’s a joke to Stella?” I ask. “Do you think for one second she found your ignorant and cliched commentary funny?”
Louisa’s mouth falls open in dismay, and her face mottles with the anger of a teenager who’s never heard the word no in her life. “You know this is how things work, Mr. Carter. She doesn’t belong here. And I’m sorry that I’m the one who has to point out the obvious, but she’s the daughter of a criminal.”
“Oh?” I fold my arms over my chest and examine her. “And you’ve never done anything illegal or immoral, Louisa?”
Her lip trembles as she attempts to hide her surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I believe there were several shoplifting incidents your father took great care to keep off your record. There was also the matter of the pills the headmistress found in your locker. And then there was the time you seduced a teacher your freshman year in exchange for a better grade. Mr. Norman, if I remember correctly. I’m not certain if that was before or after you were caught in a compromising position with two boys in the library.”
“What is your point?” she snaps.
“My point is that you should be very careful who you throw stones at, considering the skeletons in your own closet. Regardless of how much your father pays, nothing is a secret here at Loyola.”
“You can’t say those things to me,” she protests. “You’re a teacher.”
“I can, and I just did. Now take your things and leave. You will not receive a grade for the test today, and you won’t have a chance to make up for it either. Perhaps next time you consider opening your mouth in my class, you’ll have something educational to add to the conversation.”
“You can’t do that.” Libby pales. “Our grades for this class go on our college applications, Mr. Carter. Please—”
“Then you might consider keeping better company.” I shrug. “Or learning to pick your battles. Regardless, it makes no difference to me if you want to implode your futures to prove a petty point. Now I have a class to teach. Goodbye, ladies.”
I leave them standing there, slack mouthed and dumbfounded, with no doubts they’ll be running straight to the headmistress to demand my termination. But if I’m being honest, I give zero fucks about whatever storm they bring my way. When I re-enter the classroom, my eyes fall on Stella, her face hidden by the veil of hair around her as she scribbles in her journal.
I rattle off my instructions for the class to read silently amongst themselves, adding their essay assignment to the whiteboard before I dust off my hands.
“Miss LeClaire, I’d like to see you in my office.”
Her head snaps up as everyone else opens their books and begins to read quietly. I don’t wait for her response. Instead, I walk into the hall and unlock my office door. Stella isn’t far behind, and when she joins me inside, the silence swallows us whole when I shut her into the small space with me.
Our eyes meet, and I have no fucking clue what I want to say to her. But I find that words aren’t what I need right now. Instead, I stalk toward her and pin her against the wall with my body as my fingers tangle in her hair and my mouth crashes into hers.
Stella is too stunned to put up a fight, and for that, I’m grateful. I know how I left things with her, but I also know what she needs right now. I kiss the hell out of her until neither of us can breathe, and then I drag her to the desk like a caveman and spread her out on top of it. Prying her legs apart, I yank her panties down and tear them off, stuffing them into my pocket.
She watches me with a dazed expression as my lips ghost over the creamy skin of her thigh, all the way up to the paradise between her legs. When I lash at her with my tongue, she whimpers and curls her fingers into my hair.
“Sebastian.” It sounds like a protest, but there is no heart in it. I eat at her pussy and fuck her with my tongue until she trembles around me and shatters into a million pieces beneath my hands.