make myself feel better? I’m the most selfish person that
there is.”
“Everyone would
think that. It’s the natural reaction.”
“I let my best
friend go home with some guy tonight to lose her virginity when she’s high on
MDMA because I followed you in the club. I am shit . I don’t deserve
anything.”
“That’s not your
fault,” Mr. Lane insisted, this time giving into his urge and wrapping a secure
arm around my shoulder. “Your boyfriend… that is your fault, but you can’t just
pile everything on your shoulders. You made a mistake, but everyone does.
Things will right themselves in the end.”
I had no
confidence that things were ever going to get better, even if I was just being
melodramatic in the moment. “Whatever. I just want to go home. Can you please
leave me alone now?”
I didn’t need
this, someone pretending to look out for me. I could handle self-loathing
perfectly well by myself, which the remainder of what I’d been drinking before
I went out and sad music. I was out of the city centre and into the safe part
of town. I’d be perfectly fine.
“I’ll walk you
home.”
“I don’t want you
to walk me home.”
“I’m just trying
to look out for you,” Mr. Lane tightened his grip and I shrugged away from him.
Giving up the warmth probably wasn’t worth it, but I needed to make a stand on
this. I wasn’t seeing Mr. Lane anymore.
I continued to
walk, face straight, and didn’t turn to look at him as I spoke. “I don’t want
to sleep with you again. I don’t want to see you again outside of the
classroom. I don’t care if you fail me. I just want to be left. Alone.”
“You can’t just
block everyone out. I want to help.”
“I don’t want your
help!” I all but shouted. “I want to go home and get on with my life as if none
of this ever happened. Me fucking you has messed up everything and I don’t want
it anymore. I want to have sorted myself out before I go to university, so that
maybe I’m not still stuck in a cycle of self-hatred by then.”
I quickened my
pace, but Mr. Lane still insisted on catching me up. “This isn’t just about the
sex. I like you, and I thought you liked me. That was the point of this
whole thing. I wanted to get to know you more.”
“I don’t like
you,” I lied. “It was about the sex and nothing more. Please go away.”
And I shoved
another person out of my life. It was an easy lie to pull off: we’d had one
dinner together and so I wasn’t supposed to have decided that I really liked
him, I wasn’t supposed to have already established a good number of romantic
fantasies that I played out in my mind over and over again.
It was easy to
convince Mr. Lane that he meant nothing to me.
And when he
shouted after me that I was making a mistake, he didn’t have to know that my
tears had returned with a vengeance and I was this close to turning around and
begging him to forgive me.
Mr. Lane was gone
and that was good and simple. It was what had to happen.
I’d recover from
all of this, eventually.
Chapter Six
The next day was
painful. My hangover was one thing, but my mind was weighed down by far heavier
things than that. I had to go and see Emma today.
I had to speak to
my father this evening, when he returned from his ‘fishing trip’.
And I had to look
my mother in the eye and pretend everything was fine.
Emma had invited
me round just after lunch and I’d gone to her house with a heavy heart. I
already knew what was going to happen before she’d curled into my side in
heaves of sobs. She regretted it, of course, and told me how much she hated herself
for having done that.
There wasn’t one
mention of how I’d let her do it, but I was sure she must have thought
it. I’d left her there and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her it was because
I’d wanted to sleep with my teacher again.
“Don’t get
there is.”
“Everyone would
think that. It’s the natural reaction.”
“I let my best
friend go home with some guy tonight to lose her virginity when she’s high on
MDMA because I followed you in the club. I am shit . I don’t deserve
anything.”
“That’s not your
fault,” Mr. Lane insisted, this time giving into his urge and wrapping a secure
arm around my shoulder. “Your boyfriend… that is your fault, but you can’t just
pile everything on your shoulders. You made a mistake, but everyone does.
Things will right themselves in the end.”
I had no
confidence that things were ever going to get better, even if I was just being
melodramatic in the moment. “Whatever. I just want to go home. Can you please
leave me alone now?”
I didn’t need
this, someone pretending to look out for me. I could handle self-loathing
perfectly well by myself, which the remainder of what I’d been drinking before
I went out and sad music. I was out of the city centre and into the safe part
of town. I’d be perfectly fine.
“I’ll walk you
home.”
“I don’t want you
to walk me home.”
“I’m just trying
to look out for you,” Mr. Lane tightened his grip and I shrugged away from him.
Giving up the warmth probably wasn’t worth it, but I needed to make a stand on
this. I wasn’t seeing Mr. Lane anymore.
I continued to
walk, face straight, and didn’t turn to look at him as I spoke. “I don’t want
to sleep with you again. I don’t want to see you again outside of the
classroom. I don’t care if you fail me. I just want to be left. Alone.”
“You can’t just
block everyone out. I want to help.”
“I don’t want your
help!” I all but shouted. “I want to go home and get on with my life as if none
of this ever happened. Me fucking you has messed up everything and I don’t want
it anymore. I want to have sorted myself out before I go to university, so that
maybe I’m not still stuck in a cycle of self-hatred by then.”
I quickened my
pace, but Mr. Lane still insisted on catching me up. “This isn’t just about the
sex. I like you, and I thought you liked me. That was the point of this
whole thing. I wanted to get to know you more.”
“I don’t like
you,” I lied. “It was about the sex and nothing more. Please go away.”
And I shoved
another person out of my life. It was an easy lie to pull off: we’d had one
dinner together and so I wasn’t supposed to have decided that I really liked
him, I wasn’t supposed to have already established a good number of romantic
fantasies that I played out in my mind over and over again.
It was easy to
convince Mr. Lane that he meant nothing to me.
And when he
shouted after me that I was making a mistake, he didn’t have to know that my
tears had returned with a vengeance and I was this close to turning around and
begging him to forgive me.
Mr. Lane was gone
and that was good and simple. It was what had to happen.
I’d recover from
all of this, eventually.
Chapter Six
The next day was
painful. My hangover was one thing, but my mind was weighed down by far heavier
things than that. I had to go and see Emma today.
I had to speak to
my father this evening, when he returned from his ‘fishing trip’.
And I had to look
my mother in the eye and pretend everything was fine.
Emma had invited
me round just after lunch and I’d gone to her house with a heavy heart. I
already knew what was going to happen before she’d curled into my side in
heaves of sobs. She regretted it, of course, and told me how much she hated herself
for having done that.
There wasn’t one
mention of how I’d let her do it, but I was sure she must have thought
it. I’d left her there and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her it was because
I’d wanted to sleep with my teacher again.
“Don’t get
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