PET

Amisha Connor

He would stare at me from across the classroom. His brown eyes gulping me up. The white walls would close in on us and the hissing of the radiator would scream in the back of my ear. The chipped wooden desk was scratchy against my skin and the world was a blur beyond my vision. Him at the centre of it. I would see him looking up at me from his papers, how easy it would be for me to curl myself inside him. He told me once outside the classroom how this was all new to him, he’d never had the desire before me, he loved how I wrote down words on the page and how full of life I was. I loved it too.
        He waited a while though, he took his time with me and he really wanted to be good.
        He was nice.
        He would often call me over and I couldn’t help but take a deep breath when he called my name. I couldn’t help but feel a certain way. ‘I would like to talk to you about your mock exam.’ He would often find ways to get me to come close to him.
        I remember the first time walking slowly over, trying not to reveal my jittering arms. I sat on the seat beside him, behind the desk. My clammy hands pulling down my skirt through the chair. Our thighs no more than two centimetres apart.
        ‘What made you struggle with the long division sums?’ he asked me, his pinkie finger tracing my leg.
        ‘I ... um, not sure.’
        My mind would stay in a daze, as he touched my body.
        When I think back on it, I can’t quite remember what exactly happened. What he exactly did, but I assure you it was nothing bad. He liked the games and he liked not getting caught. Maybe I did too. Maybe that time was a good time. It was a good time.