The Schoolgirl Ch. 04

Emelie nervously fidgeted as she waited for him in the tea room of the rehab center. To her, the facility looked a lot more like a luxurious ski resort, with its lovely colonial architecture and amenities fit for a five star hotel. Located three hours away from their home city in the heavily forested area of the surrounding mountains,Recovery Lodge featured a full service spa, an expansive list of indoor and outdoor activities, and varying forms of therapy for their resident patients.

It was definitely the nicest rehab Sam had been sent to, and according to her mother, also the most expensive. Emelie hoped that Sam was finally getting the help that he needed. She loved her brother too much to lose him to his addiction.

"Why are you looking so sad, peewee?"

Emelie's spirits immediately brightened, and she turned around to face her brother. Unable to contain her happiness, she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him in a tight hug.

"I've missed you so much," Emelie said, finally releasing him. But just as quickly as her elation arrived, it instantly vanished once she took a good look at her brother.

He'd been sent toRecovery Lodge almost a month prior after a dangerous, three day drug binge that had landed him in the hospital. When he finally came to consciousness, the doctors found evidence of multiple stimulants and hallucinogenics in his body. He'd been put on an emergency medical detox to rid his body of the harsh substances, and Emelie had been more fearful for him that she ever had.

Despite their parents' insistence that she return home while they waited with Sam, Emelie had refused to leave his side while he was in the hospital. It had terrified her, but she couldn't bear to abandon her brother and best friend in the world. It had broken her heart to see him in so much pain; Sam had looked like he was in more agony that he had ever been.

One moment, his skin would be ashen and white and he'd complain of cold. Ten minutes later, he'd be sweating profusely and completely red, manically certain that the hospital was an incinerator, and the nurses were kidnappers trying to burn him alive. He'd constantly scratched at his skin and had heaved almost every hour, and the shaking...his trembling was nonstop.

When Emelie tried to reach out and calm him down, he'd sworn at her and yelled at her. She tried not to think much of the harsh things he'd said. She accepted that during his withdrawals, he wasn't entirely himself. It was the drugs that had called her a "stupid, vapid whore", not her beloved brother.

Once the withdrawals finally subsided and he was fully conscious, Sam had looked strung out, beaten up, and haggard.

But if at all possible, he looked even worse now...the exact opposite of what she expected. He was pale and even thinner than he'd been before, and there were heavy bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

His pale blond hair was too long and unkempt, and his green eyes, also the same shade as hers, were bloodshot and red-rimmed. His arms trembled as he struggled to seat himself in the chair opposite her, veins protruding dangerously, as if it were some kind of heavy exertion just to transfer his own body weight to a chair. Even his tattoos, which Emelie had previously admired for their vibrant colors and edgy designs, appeared faded and weak.

"You look well, Emmy," Sam said tensely, once he stopped trembling. Emelie lowered her head and shrugged her shoulders, trying her hardest not to stare at the brother she hardly recognized.

"Mom and I went to the spa this morning," Emelie replied. Sam's eyebrows rose.

"She had time to go to the spa, but no time to visit me? I suppose facials and pedicures, or whatever it is you women do, is high priority," he said.

He spoke humorously, but Emelie could tell that he was deeply hurt that their mother hadn't shown up.

"She's...not doing well, Sam. You know how hard this is for her," Emelie said slowly. Sam shrugged his shoulders as he turned his gaze away from her and absently glanced around the room, something he only did when he was feeling uncomfortable.

"I expect as much. And Dad?" he asked. Emelie lowered her head and swallowed hard.

"Well...Dad is trying to take care of Mom," Emelie replied.

Sam sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. With the gesture, Emelie noticed an unsettling amount of dark bruises and red scabs in the crook of his arm.

When he finally looked at her again, his gaze was pained.

"I'm so sorry, Emmy," Sam said softly. They stared at each other very seriously for several moments, and eventually, Sam's face split into a wide grin. This was a game they'd played when they were children, and Emelie's laughter soon followed.

For almost their entire lives, most people thought that she and her brother were fraternal twins, due to their eyes and hair. They were three years apart, but by the time Emelie was twelve, she'd almost completely caught up to Sam in height. Their individual facial features were very different — Emelie's face was much more like their mother, whereas Sam's face was much more like their father.

However, on occasion, they would have these staring contests, holding the same exact same facial expression. And after a few moments, both would always feel like they were staring at a gender-flipped mirror.

"Is anyone taking care of you, Emmy?" he asked, once they both stopped laughing.

Emelie shrugged her shoulders and offered a weak smile, not wanting the mood to darken again.

"I'm doing a pretty decent job, I think. You just said I look well," Emelie joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

Sam started to appear guilty again, and Emelie scrambled to change the subject.

"Emmy, I'm so sorry I haven't—"

"I met a guy," Emelie said quickly. Sam cocked his head to one side.

"Who do I need to threaten?" Sam asked automatically. Emelie giggled and shook her head. This was the brother she recognized.

"Nobody, Mom and Dad love him. His name is Jake, and he plays football at State," Emelie replied. Sam narrowed his eyes.

"A guy in college, Emelie? How long have you been seeing him? How old is he?" Sam asked.

"We just met last week...and I don't know, he's a sophomore so I'm guessing nineteen or twenty. He's really sweet," Emelie added.

She knew it was ridiculous, considering her age of newly eighteen, but Jake suddenly seemed very...young to her.

Carlisle on the other hand, who she guessed was probably around thirty, was mature and...manly. He was smart and confident, sophisticated and experienced.

But of course, Carlisle had rejected her.

"What's wrong? Where did I lose you?" Sam asked. Emelie shook her head and tried to banish thoughts of Carlisle before she became depressed again.

"Sorry...I just got distracted," she replied apologetically. Sam eyed her cautiously for several moments, perceiving her in ways that only a close sibling could.

"I've never seen you look this insecure. What's going on?" he asked. Emelie lowered her head, hoping to shield herself from his gaze as much as possible. She'd never been able to successfully hide anything from Sam. He knew her better than anyone else.

She had always been able to tell her brother everything, but this was one secret she couldn't reveal. He had his recovery to focus on. The last thing he needed was to worry about her dangerous acts with her teacher...who had managed to shatter her self-esteem more than any other person ever had.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emelie replied, offering him her best smile.

Sam immediately frowned, not believing her.

He was about to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of a woman clearing her throat.

"Mr. Woods...it's time for your four o'clock art therapy session," a nurse called by the door.

Sam sighed and stood with tremors, lanky form shakily towering over her.

"We'll discuss this over dinner. I know you're hiding something, Emmy. I'm still your big brother, even though I'm stuck in rehab," Sam whispered, kissing her on the top of her head.

******

******

Nicholas gingerly slipped his coffee as he slowly pulled into the parking lot of West View Senior High early Tuesday morning. He was over-caffeinated and under-rested, entirely by choice. He'd needed to take precautions over the remainder of the holiday weekend to limit as many illicit thoughts of Emelie as possible.

He'd avoided sleeping at night, favoring short naps throughout the day instead, for his dreams were plagued with dangerously erotic fantasies of Emelie. On Saturday, the last night he'd allowed himself to sleep, he'd dreamt of fucking Emelie from behind while she wore that tiny red bikini she'd teased him with. He'd woken up trembling and aching, harder and more aroused than he'd ever been in his life. And like a horny, overly sensitized teenager, he'd viscously jerked himself to expulsion, repeatedly, until he was physically too exhausted to continue to try to extinguish his desire.

Nicholas nervously entered the main school building, nodding politely at the few faculty members who were already on campus.

Everyone seemed normal. Pleasant. Perhaps Emelie hadn't yet told anyone about the kiss he'd forced upon her on Friday.

He unlocked his office and sat down his briefcase, and logged on to his desktop with an anxious haste. He needed to know precisely how much trouble he could possibly get in for what he did on Friday, and only the school administration records could clue him in. If it turned out that Emelie was still seventeen, he'd never forgive himself for what he'd done.

He pulled up his full student roster, scanning through the home addresses, emergency contact numbers, faculty advisors, and birth dates for his students.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears by the time he reached the W's, and when he finally found Emelie's name, he exhaled in relief. What he'd done was still very wrong, but at least she was a legal adult.

Student: Woods, Emelie Victoria

Cumulative G.P.A.: 3.21

Year: Senior

Birth date: August 5

Age: 18

******

By the time she arrived in class, Nicholas knew something was off about her.

She was beautiful, as usual. Talking to her friends, as usual. But there was a sadness in her eyes that he hadn't seen before.

He wondered briefly if he'd been the cause of that sadness, but he immediately shook away the thought. She was an immature girl playing a game, nothing more. There was no way she was invested in him enough to experience any kind of sadness in reaction to anything he did, or didn't do.

She assumed her usual stance of hardly paying attention to his lecture, and he thought it best not to point it out...this time. He had, after all, violated her on Friday with the kiss. If she had decided not to tell anyone about it, then he would turn a blind eye to her texting in class.

When class ended, the students turned in paper copies of their essays to his desk, and Nicholas gathered his materials without thinking much of it.

But when the door to the classroom closed, he knew instantly he wasn't alone. His highly reactive body could detect the nearness of the object of his arousal.

He tried not to look at her as he heard her approaching his desk, dropping her essay on the pile.

There was a prolonged silence between them as Nicholas scrambled to figure out what to say to her. Should he apologize?

"So I'll see you after school?" Emelie said suddenly. Nicholas frowned, still struggling to speak.

"For tutoring. Tuesdays and Fridays, right?" she clarified.

Nicholas finally looked up at her, immediately feeling his heart lurch at the sadness in her eyes.

He wanted to comfort her, to ask her what was bothering her, but he'd already crossed a line with her that should have never been crossed, under any circumstances. He was lucky that she had chosen not to tell anyone, yet, and he didn't want to push his fortune. He was her teacher, and she was his student. Their contact needed to be strictly professional.

And also...he didn't want to push his limits. If he was completely alone with her, he didn't know if he'd be able to control himself. She was wearing her tiny school uniform with a pair of navy blue thigh high socks and loafers with small heels. She was the perfect image of a naughty schoolgirl.

At least in a room full of students, with a lesson plan in front of him and a job to do, Nicholas could distract himself long enough to temporarily suspend his lustful thoughts of Emelie. But now that he'd had a glimpse, and brief feel, of the well formed body beneath her uniform, Nicholas knew it would be impossible for him to keep his hands off of her for long if they were alone.

With a heavy sigh, Nicholas lowered his head.

"I'm not sure if you've ever met Mrs. O'Neill...she teaches the A.P. Studio Art class downstairs...in room 202A. She has a lot of experience in art history, and I know she'd be a valuable resource, if you still feel you need extra help," Nicholas said.

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and Nicholas was immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

But he had to do the right thing.

"But...what if I want you to help me?" Emelie asked softly, stepping closer to him.

Nicholas took a step away from her and shook his head.

"Emelie...no. That can't happen," he said firmly.

He glanced up at her when she didn't reply, and Nicholas felt his heart lurch in powerful guilt. He could tell she was trying to appear cold, or perhaps angry, but it was entirely superficial. Her expressive eyes revealed a powerful sense of despair he had a feeling went far beyond what he'd said to her. She almost looked like she was pleading for something. This was definitely not the normal, happy, carefree girl he'd come to expect.

Something had happened to her over the long weekend...something bad. And he was only making things worse for her by rejecting her.

Perhaps he could find a way to offer her some comfort...

"Emelie—"

"Fine. Whatever," she said curtly. He fought the urge to reach out to her as she turned on her heel and briskly left the classroom, slamming the door shut.

******

"Mom, can I borrow your silverJudith Leiber tonight? Please please please?" Emelie called.

"Of course, sweetheart. But if you bring it back with a single crystal missing, you'll be grounded for a month," her mother replied from the other room.

Emelie laughed. She'd certainly gotten in trouble before, but neither of her parents had ever been able to ground her.

She turned her attention back to the mirror, and watched as her trusted hair stylist Kim finished placing big, sexy curls in her hair.

"So are we going with your signature tonight? Down with a natural side part? Or do you want to try something different?" Kim asked.

"Definitely different. I want to wear it up," Emelie answered quickly.

She was still recovering from the sting of Carlisle's rejection earlier that week, and she was more determined than ever to look her absolute best. She knew it was immature, but she didn't care. She had every intention of doing everything in her power to make sure Carlisle regretted rejecting her.

Emelie had restricted her eating that week, and had extended her workouts after cheer practice, so that she would perfectly fit into her homecoming gown. Her entire body was sore, and she was painfully hungry, but at least she would fit into the dress she'd purchased a size smaller than she normally wore.

After Kim styled her hair in a pretty twist at the top of her head with loose curls, Emelie finished applying her makeup. She decided on a deep red lipstick to match her red gown, and applied a black catlike eyeliner on her eyelids.

She squeezed into her gown and glanced at herself in her full-length mirror, delighted with the fit. It was made of a luxurious red silk that flowed and cascaded in a way reminiscent of the images of Greek goddesses she'd been studying in Carlisle's class. It was strapless, backless, and very low cut, with a slit that traveled all the way up her thigh, completely exposing her left leg. With each movement, the dress flowed around her like gentle sea waves.

She pulled on a strappy pair of silver stiletto sandals, and put on a platinum bracelet and matching choker and chandelier earrings. Just as she was applying a final spritz of perfume, the doorbell rang.

With a confident breath, Emelie headed downstairs to meet her handsome escort for the evening.

******

True to his promise, Jake proved to be a very experienced and gentlemanly date. He'd worn a black suit that fit his large, muscular, football player's body very well. He'd presented her with a beautiful red rose corsage, and had hired a luxury car service to drive them that evening. He'd even taken her to dinner at a very exclusive lakeside steakhouse,Delmonico's.

Unfortunately for Emelie, she couldn'tactually eat anything without running the risk of bursting out of her dress, so she dejectedly settled for a light salad, and tried not to appear as disappointed with her food as she felt.

But by the time they reached the dance, Emelie's hunger was temporarily forgotten and she felt once more like a goddess. She proudly leaned into Jake as they walked into the school gym, which had been transformed into a beautiful, elegant ballroom reminiscent of the golden age, true to the theme of the dance:Old Hollywood.

As she stood in the archway and handed Jake the tickets, she could feel a powerful set of eyes on her. Emelie found Carlisle staring at her, with a threatening scowl on his face.

For a second, she was breathless. She'd thought Jake would certainly be the hottest guy at the dance, but Carlisle...he was an entirely separate level of handsome. And she certainly wasn't the only girl to notice. Several female students, and almost the entire female faculty, was staring at Carlisle.

He was wearing a tailored black tuxedo with a black bowtie, and it didn't look like something that could be rented, or even easily purchased. It fit him impossibly well. Was it...designer? She wondered briefly how Carlisle could have gotten a tuxedo like that, but the thought was fleeting once she allowed herself to really appreciate how expertly it fit his body. Jake suddenly seemed awkward and burly in comparison to her seductive teacher.

Carlisle looked like he may have gotten a fresh haircut, for his masculine face seemed even more striking to her. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and his pale blue eyes were piercing even from his distance. Just with a change of clothing, it seemed that Carlisle had gone from Clark Kent to James Bond.

Emelie shook her head and looked away from him, remembering her purpose. She would not be that insecure girl she was on Tuesday, even though she still felt that way internally. She knew he probably didn't even care, but for her own pride...Emelie needed to show Carlisle that he had made a mistake by rejecting her.

Without a further glance to Carlisle, Emelie smiled wide and leaned into Jake as the photographer took their entrance photo.

******

After over three hours of continuous dancing, Emelie was in desperate need of rest. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, likely due to the lack of nutrition and heavy exertion of the last four days.

Emelie resolved to order the largest pizza she could find as soon as she was alone.

"You look so hot in that dress, Emelie," Jake whispered in her ear as they approached her friends, outside on the football field. Emelie smiled up at Jake and slightly curved her body, to give him a better view.

"I wore it for you. I hoped you'd like it," Emelie replied.

"I can't wait to get you alone and take it off of you," Jake whispered back.