When I returned from the bathroom, only five minutes was left of class, so I gathered my things like everybody else. We all watched the clock tick slower than ever, my heart slowly thumping and my fingers tapping the edge of the desk.

However, when the bell did ring, everyone sprinted out so fast that I was left sluggishly making my way down the aisle. Mr. Lee's gaze on me was enough to have me sink to the ground in a bundle of exhaustion. Instead, I kept my pace up and left the room, where the cool air of the hallways hit me and freed me of my discomfort.

New students started flooding into his classroom, and it was then that I realized I left my notepad on my desk. My breathing instantly increased, and every second that ticked by, my anxiety grew disgustingly fast.

Before I talked myself out of it, I speed-walked back into the classroom.

"You-"

His voice cut off when my face accidentally collided into his rock-hard chest. I instantly backed up and shook my head from the impact. I could hear the faint gossiping of our collision echoing in the classroom. It was just my luck that it had to be on display from the doorway, where all the students probably saw it.

Mr. Lee blinked a few times. "I'm so sorry." He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "I was going to say you forgot your notepad, but it looks like you already knew that."

Mr. Lee chuckled and handed me the notepad, but when my fingers found their way to it, he didn't let go. "Sorry again."

I smiled warmly at him, taking in the way his dimples looked when he smiled. I let my finger tap against his knuckles a few times before I pulled away from our somewhat-of-an-embrace and walked down the hallway, my notepad firmly gripped in my hand. Our collision continued to repeat itself in my head until I reached Mr. Garcia's office.

I skipped going to the cafeteria and buying lunch. Most of the reason was because Vera was in there, and I had no desire to face her. I was still mad for what she did, and I didn't want to be friends with her anymore. The fact that I would have to face her during cross country made me sick to my stomach. I also skipped because I needed to talk to Mr. Garcia.

When I reached his office, I knocked lightly on the cherry wood door, and he cheerfully yelled to come in. His face lit up when he saw me.

"Poppy!" He said brightly, gesturing at the seat in front of his desk. "Take a seat, my dear."

I crossed my legs as casually as possible and began to scribble on my notepad, the memory of Mr. Lee's fingers on it causing my face to ignite with a blush.

I need to ask you a question.

"Sure thing. What's up?" He asked after I turned the notepad around so he could read it. He put down his pencil and gave his full attention to me, sneaking in a sip of the coffee he usually always had on his desk.

Why is students being with teachers relationship-wise looked down upon?

Mr. Garcia's smile faded. "What do you mean, relationship-wise?"

I felt my face burning. I already felt weird asking about this, but I was beyond concerned about how I felt about Mr. Lee. I couldn't tell my father about it, not that I would want to anyway. I didn't feel comfortable enough to tell him. But somehow I had to get this out.

Sexually, I mean. I wrote. More than friends.

His gaze settled on my last words, and the silence began to grow thick and awkward.

"Why would you ask that?"

My cheeks burned up even more, if that was even possible. I couldn't back out now.

I was just curious.

He clearly didn't believe me. "Do you want to be with a teacher, Poppy?"

No! I wrote. The exclamation point wasn't necessary, but I needed him to understand that I was just and only curious. Which obviously I was lying to him and myself.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked, setting his coffee down and looking at me intently. I shook my head.

"If you are feeling something for a teacher, you need to let me know immediately and we will get through it." Mr. Garcia said, a look of uneasiness outlining his facial features.

That didn't answer my question, though. I promise I was just curious. I scribbled.

Mr. Garcia sighed. "Teachers are mentors. They keep a professional distance from their students. Students are minors and underaged, therefore any physical action between the two would result in immediate trouble if discovered."

Then why are we so close? Why is our relationship not professional?

"I am a guidance counselor, Poppy. This is what I do. I am supposed to connect with students who are in need of a friend."

What about coaches? Can't teachers be friends with students? Seniors are almost an adult, shouldn't they be able to do what they want?

My words were being possessed by my pencil so fast that I could not control myself. Anger and frustration was building up inside me. I couldn't decide what I was more upset about; the fact that I felt something for my history teacher who was also my coach, or the fact that as a teacher, he is meant to keep a professional distance from me. We were getting drawn together without realizing how easy the law could split us apart. But then again, it's not like we did anything.

Maybe I was just paranoid. We only touched hands a few times, right? That couldn't mean anything. It was just a crush. It was the first time I was feeling something for someone. That had to be why it felt so strong.

"Who is it, Poppy?" Mr. Garcia asked. "Mr. Elliot?"

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. Mr. Elliot? He was my biology teacher during third period, but I hadn't realized he could be a suspect. He had black hair and brown eyes, which was the most I could think of when I thought of him. I never thought of him to be attractive. Mr. Garcia's mentioning of Mr. Elliot disintegrated my anger. He didn't suspect Mr. Lee at all. I wondered why.

"He needs to be fired. I knew he was looking at girls like that." Mr. Garcia muttered under his breath. He was obviously talking to himself, but I still heard what he said. He focused his attention back on me. "I've had girls tell me about how they're crushing on Mr. Elliot."

I promise I don't like him. Once again, I was just curious.

"Alright."

I dismissed myself after our conversation with too many mixed emotions to count. I couldn't decide on whether or not Mr. Garcia was mad at me, but I felt too dismayed and edgy to go into Mr. Lee's classroom for the free periods to sleep.

Since I had nowhere else to go, I spent my time sitting on the bleachers in the gym, the familiar discomfort causing my back to ache like it used to. I wondered if Mr. Lee noticed or cared that I didn't show up.