Miss Grande

Chapter 37: You Wanted To See Me, Miss?

   I walked into school the next day with Trent by my side. He walked me to class. It had gotten to the point where it was less to put on a show and more just because we enjoyed each other's company.

"I'll see you at lunch," he hugged me and jogged off, leaving me to enter the lion's den by myself.

It wasn't really a big deal. I was only gone for a day. She'd been so hot and cold lately; I couldn't tell if she would have missed me while I was gone or just not noticed I wasn't there until Sam brought it up.

I prepared myself for the worst. Either I ended up right, or I would be pleasantly surprised. She probably saw I wasn't there for attendance, assumed I would show up later, and planned to ignore me like she always did when I was late. It wasn't a big deal and there was no point in stalling, not to mention I looked like an idiot standing alone in the hallway by myself a few seconds before the bell was to ring.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open. I made my way inside and went to my desk.

"Y/n, see me after class."

I looked up, and for once she met my gaze. I couldn't read her face though; it was blank and expressionless. I nodded, and she started the lesson.

The kid beside me leaned over and whispered, "She probably wants you to know what you missed yesterday. We are doing essays."

I nodded and mouthed a silent 'thank you' before tuning back in.

I was, once again, packing up slowly after class had ended, dreading the awkward wait of the last student who was taking too long. The uncomfortable tension began to set, and he seemed to finally get his things together before leaving.

"You wanted to see me, Miss?" I asked without putting any emphasis on the 'Miss' like I usually did.

I didn't know where we stood at the moment, and if she was upset with me, I was not about to piss her off by flirting.

"You weren't here yesterday," she stated, sitting on the front of her desk with her legs crossing over at her knees and her arms across her chest. Her tight pencil skirt rode up slightly, and I did my best not to look too hard at her thighs or her chest.

I nodded in agreement. "Indeed, I was not." It would be nice if I could open my mouth and not sound like an idiot every time.

A smile broke out across her face, and she let out a huff of amusement. "I was worried."

"You were?" Pleasantly surprised.

"You're my star player. The team looks lost without you at practice. I just wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong."

Oh. I spoke too soon. "I'm good. Just, mental health days, you know."

Her forehead creased and her lips pursed. "You know you can always talk to me, right?"

It hurt to hear her say that because it was far from the truth, but I just nodded my head. "I know. It wasn't anything personal, I just needed a day off." I couldn't tell what was going on with her. Did she care because she liked me or just because I'm good for the team?

She looked unconvinced but shrugged her shoulders with a nod. "Oh!" she piped up. "We need to exchange phone numbers. That way if something comes up, you don't have to send poor Sam on a wild goose chase to find me. You can just text it to me." She smiled.

"Isn't that against school policy?" My tone wasn't teasing.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I'm your coach, so we need to be able to keep in contact anyway. Plus, since when do you care about school policy?"

My heart clenched. She kept pushing me away and reeling me back in. I decided against bringing it up since I wanted today to be good and go smoothly. She gave me a sticky note with her number on it before passing me the pad and a pen for me to give her mine.

After scribbling my number down, I decided to change the topic from anything to do with us. "What work did I miss?"

She stood to walk around the room, grabbing papers as she went. "We're doing an argumentative essay over a topic of your choice. Your rough draft will be due in 3 weeks. I'm giving you so much time because in class we will be going over rhetoric strategies to help strengthen your argument. Any free time we have in here will be spent working on it, but otherwise it will be your responsibility to do it on your own time." She handed me a stack of papers, and I smiled at her. "What?" she asked.

I chuckled. "Nothing. You're just..." I didn't want to say cute. "Seeing you in teacher mode when it's just us- it's just different, that's all."

She blushed and opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in," she called out.

Of course, my life is never easy because it would be boring that way. In walked Mister Bieber.

I smiled tightly, and he returned the expression to me.

"Mister Bieber, how nice to see you." She said it the same way I say her name, and it ticked me off. He seemed to forget I was there, and his attention went directly to her.

"Miss Grande." He stole it right from my mouth, the exact way I always said it.

After what we had been through, I never had any bad feelings towards Justin. He had always been nice, charismatic, and charming. I'm not sure what it was about hearing him say her name like that, but something in me snapped. I felt a deep, immediate resent for him.

Maybe it was because whatever we had didn't work out, or maybe it was just because he could flirt with her so openly and comfortably. Hell, it was probably the fact that they were both flirting with each other right in front of my face. Even without them knowing I had a thing with the other, they both knew I had a thing for them individually. I couldn't tell if it was more like spitting in my face or a punch to the gut. Maybe both at the same time. Tag-teaming. How fun.

I grimaced, not caring if either of them saw it and slightly hoping they did. Maybe they'd remember I existed.

"I should get going," I verbalized. They both seemed to remember that I was in the room at the same time.

"Oh, let me know if you have any questions about the essay!" she called as I turned to leave.

"I will. Bye Miss Grande. Bye Mister Bieber." The emphasis wasn't the flitting one I always gave; it didn't match the way that Justin had said it. It held slight resentment. It also held a reminder. She was my teacher, and what we had couldn't happen. Miss Grande or Coach Grande were her titles to me- none of the 'Ariana' nonsense she had let slide to let me think that what we had was real. She was my superior, and I was her little game for when she was bored.