One Sided Love

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Chapter 15


I’ve made a list of everything I need to look out for. It’s not much but it’s something.

It contains these three things;

-Pink heart post-it-notes-Someone with D.K as initials-Also, that unmistakable strong cologne

The only other thing I need to look out for is anyone watching me. I’m well aware that whoever this is has been and is keeping an eye on me so I need to memorize the faces around me.

———

Getting to the school gates, I use my phone camera to look behind me.

I’m being a really crap spy.

I see a group of friends talking and that’s it, nothing unusual.

I see Becks and wave to her. I considered telling her about me and Oliver but it’s too early to say anything really. We’re not even officially going out yet so, I won’t tell her anything for now.

Thinking about him gives me butterflies.

As the bell goes me and Becks go to Maths and the lesson just seems to drool on. I swear the clock just stopped moving altogether, why is Maths the longest lesson?

With Oliver being behind me and Becks, I constantly feel him looking at me. Occasionally he kicks my seat or pokes me with his pen. He’s so annoying.

The next time he kicks my seat I stomp on his foot and he jumps kicking the table with his knee. Everybody turns to look at him. It was so funny.

At the end of Maths, we go to Science and though I like science it can still get really, really boring at times.

I sit there with my head in my hands looking out the window only to be disturbed by my name being called.

“What!?” I called without really thinking. Hearing a series of gasps and giggles, I look up and then realise I just back-chatted the fucking teacher.

He glares at me as I put my hand over my mouth.

Sshhiitt...

“I’ll see you at break then, Casey” he growled and turned away.

I look to Jacob and Oliver who are struggling to contain their laughter. I elbow Jacob and send Oliver a glare.

After the bell goes, I packed up my things but stay seated at the table.

The awkward silence dissolved when there was a sudden knock at the door. Before Mr Kyle could call out it opened a crack. I couldn’t see who was at the door but I soon guessed when I heard the high-pitched voice that irritated the hell out of me.

“Knock, knock” she said after knocking and opening the door, god I hate it when people do that. I mentally head smack my forehead while visually rolling my eyes.

“Miss Lott, how can I help?” Mr Kyle said sounding as irritated as I felt.

Miss Lott is my art teacher. Yeah, she’s nice but she is overly enthusiastic and suffocatingly energetic. It is sooooooo annoying. Not to mention her narcissistic tendencies.

She looks like a hippy, not stereotyping her but also, completely stereotyping. She wears one of those headbands that you tie up, sometimes even wearing a fake flower crown. Not to mention the many, many crystals she has placed on her desk.

“Oh, come now Damian, call me Florence” she cheerfully spoke.

Wait a second Damian. Florence. It’s always funny to hear your teacher’s real names, I am so telling Becks.

She once looked on Mr Browns computer when he left the room during class, on the register it has the teacher’s full names at the top, she was over the moon to find out it was Paul. Paul Brown. It just sounds so weird.

Mr Kyle flicked his eyes to me and Miss Lotts eyes follow.

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had someone after class. I’ll come back later” she said and simply left closing the door behind her.

Without looking up Mr Kyle called me over. I stood beside his desk, making sure there’s a lot of room between us.

He pointed to a chair using his pen and told me to sit, I did so and waited for him to start shouting at me for giving him attitude or something.

“Surprisingly, this isn’t about your little outburst in class, I have your quiz here” he said throwing the paper my way roughly.

I picked it up to see written on it;

Casey C-

59/80

73%

Nice try. Small improvement

Well, the whole ‘nice try’ thing seems a little condescending but I’m not going to argue.

I’ve never seen his handwriting before, it’s neat, almost familiar. He grades our tests with ticks or crosses and then he will normally go through it all in class.

I look at the way my names written, why does it look so strange?

“Would you like me to go through all your mistakes?” He asks, though I feel it’s not going to be optional. I nod and listen to him drone on.

Getting bored I start to feel uneasy as he moves his chair closer to me. I look around the room reading the cringeworthy inspirational posters. Why are they always so cheesy?

I look at his desk, there’s nothing on it but office supplies, nothing personal at all.

My eyebrows furrow as I see something pink near his computer tucked away.

My heart beat incensing as I realise its, heart shaped post-it-notes.

Coincidence surly, I mean, I’ve never seen him use them and I doubt he would honestly, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who would use them. Too girly. So why does he have them?..

He inches closer and a smell hits my nostrils, a familiar smell that fills me with fear, why?

Still explaining a question to me he places a hand on my knee. Shocked I stare at his hand, everything’s coming together no matter how much I ignore it, it all makes sense.

“Damian” I whisper. Apparently loud enough for him to hear as he stops talking. His hand still on my knee I look up to him to his blank face. “Damian...Kyle?” I slightly question. A smirk appearing on his face.

He knows what I’m thinking.

“D.K. Damian Kyle” I say looking him dead in the eyes. His grip on my knee gets tighter and his fingers start to dig in, I quickly jump from my seat.

Sitting at his seat still, he leans back into his chair. He quickly wipes his smile away. “Casey, what wrong?” He says in a monotone voice as I back away.

“You. I-it’s you!” I start to raise my voice.

“What’s me Casey?”

“The notes, the messages, they’re all from you! You’re the one doing this to me! You’re my stalker!” I shout, tears begging to puddle but I refuse to cry, it’s neither the time nor place to cry.

His lips curve back into a smile and he chuckles. That fucking chuckle.

“Sweet girl, you figured it out. Well done, my love. I knew you would find out eventually but I wasn’t expecting it just yet” he said clearly amused whilst I’m shaking in shock.

He’s, he’s a teacher. He’s in his twenties maybe even early thirties.

I turn to the door, not even caring that my bag is still at his desk. I reach for the door handle.

I need to get out of here. NOW

My hand touches the handle and I pull it down, the door opened a few inches before it is slammed shut and I’m pulled away from it by my other arm.

I’m yanked away a few meters from it as Mr Kyle goes to the door and locks it with an audible click.

Shit...


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