Dominic

When I get home that night, I should unwind, let the day slip away, but instead, I spend hours replaying the moment. Her raised hand in class, the way she blurted out something only to take it back. The whole thing doesn’t sit right. Not because I think it was some student playing a joke, but because I know better. I’ve seen her glance at me too many times to believe it was a mistake. Everything about Celeste should have ended with the lesson but she hangs around, even at class.

It's disturbing, I can barely sleep.

The next morning, I’m back in the classroom, writing the new topic on the board. My hand moves across the whiteboard, smooth and practiced, but there’s a tightness in my chest. I feel her gaze on me again, a little too direct, a little too long. I don’t acknowledge it, though. Not now, not when I’m still trying to figure out what exactly is going on with her—Celeste.

I finish writing and turn to face the class. “Any questions?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, but I notice Celeste standing up, her hand shooting into the air. I arch an eyebrow, waiting. She freezes, and there’s a moment—a heartbeat—where I swear she’s about to say something significant. But then she falters, mumbling some excuse and sitting back down. Laughter spreads through the room, and I’m already dismissing the class, feeling the irritation simmering beneath my calm expression.

At break, I step outside for some air, but really, it’s an excuse to smoke. I reach for my lighter, craving the release that comes with the first drag. But before I can light up, a hand snatches the lighter right out of my grasp.

“Hey, are you crazy?” I snap, turning to find Celeste standing there, clutching my lighter like she’s won a trophy. “Hand it over.”

Her eyes meet mine, defiant. “Smokers are liable to die young,” she says, her voice trembling as she clutches the cigarette, too. There’s a challenge in her tone, like she’s daring me to push back.

My patience thins. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Celeste.” I try to grab the lighter, but she holds it away from me. “This is why I came here—to be alone. Mind your business.”

She hesitates, and I see the battle behind her eyes—whether to keep up this sudden act of defiance or give in. She tosses both the lighter and cigarette back to me with a sharp “Suit yourself” and bolts before I can say anything else.

I watch her go, shaking my head. The whole exchange has my nerves frayed, but there’s something else there, too—curiosity. What’s gotten into her?

Later, when I return to class, there’s no more mention of the incident, but I’m aware of her every move. She’s biting her lip, glancing at me more than she should. It’s distracting, and I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but it’s working. Halfway through my lecture, she asks to get water, coughing into her hand. I nod, already sensing something’s off.

Minutes later, Out of curiosity... I step out into the hallway, and I see her slipping into the storeroom down the hall. I hesitate for a moment before following her. When I open the door, she’s there, standing with her back to me, the dim light catching on the loose curls framing her face.

“I heard you coughing,” I say, closing the door softly behind me. “Are you okay?”

She nods, but her hands are shaking as she digs into her bag, pulling out a notebook. She flips to a page and hands it to me, her gaze almost pleading. I glance down and see the words scrawled across the page: “I hate you so much that I can't breathe. I love you too.”

The words slam into me, sudden and hard. I look up at her, trying to piece together what this is supposed to mean—what she’s trying to tell me. “Celeste…” Her name escapes my lips, barely a whisper. There’s a raw honesty in her eyes that I can’t ignore. She's goddamn beautiful... Like a goddess.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach out, brushing a curl away from her face. It's my second time you hing her hair, it's texture is perfect. My touch lingers on her cheek, hesitant, and when my thumb grazes her lower lip, she inhales sharply. I’m crossing a line, and I know it, but her lips draw me in, and I kiss her—just a breath at first, then deeper, pulled by something I can’t explain.

She tastes like honey, like chocolate, like everything good.

The kiss ignites a fire inside me, spreading fast and furious. I wanted Celeste, and more of her. I lose myself in it, in her, even though I know we’re teetering on the edge of something that could shatter us both. Some voices in the background pulled me back... And an approaching footstep I recognize— the principal. I finally pull back, breathing hard, and trying to make sense of what just happened. I search Celeste's eyes for answers, but all I see is a reflection of my own turmoil. She's young... Though there's a ten-year age gap between us.

“Go back to class, Celeste,” I say, my voice quieter than I’d like. It’s not a command; it’s a plea.

She leaves without a word, and I stay behind for a moment longer, trying to collect myself. But when I step out into the hallway, I see Mrs. Dolton, the principal, walking toward the classroom with a new teacher by her side—a woman with steely eyes that seem to pierce right through me. I force a casual smile and nod at them, trying to mask the chaos unraveling inside me.

Back in the classroom, I was able to step in just in rime. Mrs. Dolton introduces Miss Harlow as a substitute. Julianne Harlow. I catch a glance from the new teacher—brief, but pointed. Does she know something? It’s impossible, but the idea sticks in my mind.

I barely hear the students’ murmurs as Mrs. Dolton asks to speak with me outside. My pulse quickens as I follow her into the hallway, trying to stay composed. She’s all business, but there’s an edge to her tone that sends a chill down my spine. What is this really about? Did someone see us?

“You'll have to hand over the books to Miss Harlow.” The principal emphasize.

“Sure, ma.” I replied with a bow before leaving.

As I walk back to the classroom after our conversation, Miss Harlow’s gaze lingers on me for a beat too long, her expression unreadable. And then there’s Celeste, at her desk, avoiding my eyes, but I know she feels it too—the unraveling, the thin thread of secrecy starting to fray.

Something tells me that Julianne isn’t just here to cover a few lessons. She’s here for something more—something that involves me and maybe even Celeste. Whatever it is, it feels like the beginning of a game I don’t know the rules to.

And as I take my my leave from the classroom, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change… and not necessarily for the better.

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My apologies for not updating in 2 days. Wattpad has been tempering with my account. I wasn't able to publish or chack my notifications, but now I'm back!