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Chapter 8
Chapter 8
"Yes."
He pointed to the chair, "I thought that I told you to sit down."
I nodded like a good little choir boy.
"Sure."
I took a seat as he took a deep breath and then ad—justed his glasses, the silence in the room grew thicker. Just like my cock which needed to stop thinking about Ms. Johnson's ass. Somehow, I managed to keep my face still at that thought. I definitely should get some points for that shit.
He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish in a bowl, and instead of putting us out of our misery, he took off his glasses and then wiped them. I watched as he gently stroked the sides and then as he stared with a menacing air at the lenses. He was at the end of his teth—er with me, but I didn't care. I was the quarterback, the star of the team and all I wanted to do was look at her. See if maybe she was thinking the same thing as me, or not?
I think the principal has the wrong job. He would be better as a police officer trying to get someone to con—fess to a crime. The antique clock chimed above his head. That was the only sound in the room and I hated the fact that he was trying to make us feel as if we were in an interrogation room or something. It didn't work, anyway, because I was too caught up in making my hard—on go away, which I was failing at badly with the object of my dicks affection so close. I needed to con—centrate on something else, even if it was only the clock above his head. Which was nowhere near her ass. Crap! I thought about it, and once again, I shifted in the chair trying to hide my discomfort from them both, and I de—cided that the only thing that would make it go away would be to think of math problems. But even that wasn't working.
The principal put on his glasses and then his eyes shifted from me to her and then back to her and then me.
With an irritated sigh, he opened his mouth to speak but said nothing and I looked at her, and she met my gaze. I smiled, and she looked away. I was disappointed when she broke the spell that I created every single time a girl gazed into my glittering green eyes. I found my—self even more disappointed when she didn't return the smile.
Fuck!
When did I become such a dork? Wanting attention from a girl, wasn't something that I'd ever felt before. Not once. I didn't have to, they gave it to me before I could even think about it. Ever since I hit puberty, it was almost as if I'd become a magnet. One that attracted the opposite sex in a heartbeat.
"I have a confession to make," she said, and it caught the principal's attention and stopped the tense atmosphere which made time stand still and it felt as if, at some point, even the clock had gone mute. I hated coming in here, the threat of being kicked out of another school meant that my only future would be to stay at home. With my drunk mom.
Hell no!
'Stewart, the rich quarterback love magnet.' Every—one needed a nickname in high school, and that just happened to be mine. Not, 'Stewart, the miserable kid with the alcoholic mom and cheating dad, who'd been kicked out of one too many schools.'
I was too popular and had too much cash to be la—beled what I was behind closed doors. Everyone only saw what they wanted to see in high school at times; I wondered if it was a blessing or simply a curse.
"Yes, Ms. Johnson go on."
He wasn't cleaning his glasses now and his eyes pinned her to her chair with an intense gaze. His eyes were fixed on hers, and then it was as if a lightbulb went off over my head. I wondered, for a single second, if it was her? The girl from the closet! No, surely not, I would remember, right? Then again, I'd been so focused on football and everything else lately, that maybe I just hadn't noticed that her eyes were very similar to that girl's. Maybe that was why I couldn't be sure it was her.
But that girl's hair had been blond, this girl's hair was brown. I knew girls liked to dye their hair a lot now, but would she make such a change so quickly? Was it possible? She cleared her throat and that drew my atten—tion back to reality.