Under My Boss's Control
Page 11
I shrug my shoulders in response.
“It’s nothing. Like I said, you’re extremely gifted in this line of work, and you’re making my job easier.” Again, she blushes at my compliments.
“I noticed that most students in your class are really bright. They seem to be getting exceptional scores on each assignment,” she says. “Is that because you’re such a great teacher?”
I laugh, causing her to smile.
“Thank you for that compliment. I have noticed that as well. I have been thinking of recommending some of them for advanced classes, but that may have to wait awhile because of the closure,” I say.
I’m a little saddened by that thought.
She clears her throat softly.
“Speaking of that, how long do you think that will last?” she asks quietly.
The sky grows a little darker as we walk.
“I honestly don’t know. People have a history of being scared, so even a simple thing can cause a mass panic or frenzy,” I say with a shrug.
She nods.
“I guess you’re right. It’s uncertain. Everything about this world is right now,” she says, sounding a little sad.
I don’t like this mood that we’re in, so I try to change the subject.
“Have you ever been here before?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“No. You would think I had because I live close by, but I’m more of an indoor person. I like to read, write, and watch TV,” she says with a little smile.
“Is that what you’ve been up to today?” I ask her.
She blushes and nods.
I smile. “It’s funny, because I was doing the same thing, too.”
We both laugh and look around. The sun is really starting to go down now. We turn around and walk back to the park entrance. “Would you like me to walk you home?” I ask politely.
“Oh, no, that’s ok. I just live a few blocks over,” she says. I don’t take offense to this; I know she is just being considerate. As we walk, I notice that I can hear her breathing funny. I don’t comment on it, though.
We get back to the entrance of the park. “Well, thank you for the lovely evening. It was good to get out and get some air and talk with you,” she says, looking at me.
I smile at her. “I feel the same way,” I say.
We both stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. When we look at each other, we can’t control ourselves. We embrace, quickly but strongly. Our lips find each other. It’s a quick, fierce kiss. We both pull away and look embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry that this keeps happening,” Stacey says in shock. I’m not. I reach for her again, giving her a passionate French kiss. She pulls away from me, her face flush with embarrassment and excitement.
“Say, will you go out with me next week?” I ask breathlessly.
She agrees silently. I kiss her again, then gently let her go. I watch as she waves and walks away. Once she is out of sight, I turn and walk in the direction of my home. I couldn’t be happier with how things turned out today.
Chapter 8
Stacey
It’s the next day after my date with Mr. Winston. Last night, I rushed home after my date. I didn’t even bother to glance at my work; I just drank some cold medicine and went straight to bed.
I slept in the clothes I had worn on our walk outside. When I wake up, I want to cry out in frustration. I feel so much worse than I did yesterday.
How could this be possible?
I think this is the worst I have ever felt.
I can’t take these feelings.
I pull on a coat, despite the weather outside, deciding that I need to go to the hospital. Maybe they can give me some antibiotics or something else to clear this up. I hope it’s nothing serious, but I have never felt this bad before.
I don’t know how I am able to do it in my condition, but I manage to drive to the hospital. I park my car and walk as quickly as I can inside.
I give my name to the receptionist and sit down to fill out the insurance papers. It’s such a tedious process. After I turn them in to her, I wait for the doctor to call me.
I feel so miserable as I sit there, waiting. I look around the room, seeing that there is quite a crowd of people here. Some of them seem to be in way worse shape than me.
After what seems like an hour, they finally call me back. I’m led into a room, where the doctor checks my temperature. He looks at me, a little worried.
“Do you have any other symptoms?” he asks as he continues to examine me.
“Well…” I say, then I explain to him about my fatigue, and how I have the aches.
After checking me, he makes notes on his clipboard.