My sobs echoed in the tiny bathroom. I sat up and leaned against the door, shoving my damp hair away from my tear-stained face. I didn't know how long I'd been in the bathroom. More than twenty-five minutes, for sure. It felt like the room was closing in on me and I couldn't stop shaking, but it was better than having to show my face after I collapsed on the ground from a stupid backpack.

"Poppy?" The voice vibrated against the door.

Oh fuck. It was Mr. Lee. I could make out his voice anywhere. I didn't respond. I pressed my sweaty palms together and held my breath. My mouth felt extremely dry but I refused to do anything about it. The longer the tension seeped from the cracks of the door, the more my anxiety clouded around me and made me feel like I was going to pass out.

"It's okay," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "I'm here. I'm right behind this door. You're not alone." His voice was coming from the middle of the door. Could he be sitting on the ground? It sure sounded like it. If I listened close enough, I could hear his breathing.

I felt his body weight lean against the door. Holy shit. He was leaning right on the door. We were a piece of wood away from touching. I leaned back against the door and closed my eyes. The fact that he was right behind me, literally, eased my discomfort.

"Right here?" I asked in a tiny voice, my eyes still closed and my hands folded so tightly that my nails were creating indents in my skin. I could feel the wetness of blood where my nails had been.

Every time I spoke, I saw my mother. I squeezed my eyes as tight as they could go, although I was sure they couldn't get any tighter. I bit down on my lip and instantly tasted the coppery liquid seeping on to my tongue.

"Right here," he murmured reassuringly.

I contemplated whether or not I should open the door. I didn't want to him to see how disgusting I looked. Not only that, but I was still embarrassed from tripping.

"I told the students that the meet was off. Most of them were too tired to care," he said, a husky chuckle echoing afterwards. The sound of his chuckle made me smile.

"Only a few people noticed when you fell. Everyone is sleeping now, though. We're almost back at the school." He whispered. This conversion was clearly one-sided, and I wondered if he knew that it would make me more relaxed, because it did. I hated realizing that he definitely saw me fall, but he didn't seem to care much. I hoped he didn't think I looked idiotic, even though I know I did.

I switched the lock of the door from where I was sitting and turned the knob slowly. I plopped back down on the floor after I opened it up only a crack. He took that as his cue to look in. He was indeed sitting on the floor.

He pushed himself up off the ground and walked right into the bathroom. He walked over to the sink, a blue rag in his hand. He flicked on the light and as I adjusted to the brightness, he rinsed the rag under the faucet and then ringed it out slowly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he uttered. He walked back over to the door and pushed it shut with his foot. I hoped nobody found us like this, but the thought exited my brain when he grabbed my hand and pulled me up so I was standing and facing him. His touch left an electrical feeling coursing through my veins.

I felt exposed under his hot gaze. He raised the rag and touched it to my lip. He blotted it gently on the soft flesh, the texture of the damp rag touching my tongue. We were so close. I studied his long eyelashes. The delicate slope of his nose. His full, soft-looking lips. His curly hair that was sticking to the side. All of his features made me want to kiss each and every one, but the thought itself seemed so impossible that it was disappointing. He would never kiss me. It isn't right. I shouldn't even be thinking about that, but I couldn't help it.

He then moved the rag to my fingers and my knuckles, and one by one he wiped away the dried blood. He moved the rag in a circular motion, and I couldn't help but feel transported back to the time when Vera and I received massages after getting manicures. Except this was so much better.

Our gazes locked with each other, and it felt like the rest of the world seeped away into a different place. It was just me, him, and the insanely bright lighting in the bathroom. Or maybe that was just the visual effect of his touch. He made me feel like every part of my body was catching on fire.

And when I felt the twist in my abdomen, and the tug in my lower stomach and felt something even lower that felt so unbelievably hot and unfamiliar, I knew that if I could, I would have done just about anything to let him touch me. I couldn't deny the fact that I was attracted to him anymore. I knew I was. I craved him, and the more I knew how wrong it was, the more arousing and enticing it felt.

"You look so..." He trailed off and thought for a second, dropping the rag to the floor that we both completely ignored. "-alive," he finished.

I looked into the mirror behind him. My hair was pushed back. My eyes were big and wide, with my pupils clearly dilated. My whole face was flushed. My cheeks were extremely rosy, while my lips looked a little too red. For once in a long time, I thought I looked kind of pretty.

We couldn't stop looking at each other, and my hand itched to have some kind of physical contact with him. He was so much taller than me, and I would have had to stand on my toes to kiss him, but the fact that he was taller made me feel more protected, not that it would have mattered much anyways.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, his eyes focusing in on my lips. I was frozen in my spot, my feet glued to the ground. What does he mean by that?

"Mr. Lee?" A knock on the door sounded. It was a student.

Mr. Lee backed away from me and cleared his throat several times. He tore his gaze away and focused on picking up the rag. I scratched my neck awkwardly.

"We're here," the student called out and then walked away from the door. We both let out a sigh of relief.

"I should uh-head back," he said quietly. I nodded and he exited the room after giving me a brief nod that I returned.

I stared at the wall for a few minutes, still processing what the hell just happened. I had changed from almost having an anxiety attack to wanting him to touch my body. Mr. Lee had made my mind go straight to the gutter.

Because of today, I will only be more and more excited when I see him, and obviously that's not a good thing for either of us. But on the bright side, he's helping me talk more.

I hurriedly rushed out of the room and into the aisle, most of the seats already empty and the students sleepily carrying themselves to the entrance of the school. I grabbed my belongings and headed out, the cool misty air a relaxing feeling against my face.

I would never forget this.