Chapter 17

*Leo's POV*

He was my neighbor it seems, literally house across the street from mine but I didn't tell him that. I texted my mother to let her know I was across the street making friends and would be home in a few hours. A simple response reminding me that I have school the next day and to be safe was all she needed to say. I wasn't sure how many drinks I had. The room wasn't quite spinning, but I felt like I was floating. I've had a drink or two, but never this many. It was my first time being drunk, and honestly, I didn't mind it at all.

He had already taken my phone and added his number to it, also asked that I put my keys on the counter by the door to make sure I wasn't going to be drinking and driving, which I happily obliged. We sat together but at opposite ends on his sofa, watching tv, drinking, laughing, talking. He never once made an action towards me. No sexual comments, nothing. I wasn't sure if he really was gay. If he was interested at all. I wanted to take a chance. If I was going to be in control, I needed to act like I was. Getting up to make myself another drink I asked if he needed a refill.

Saying this next one would be his last, he smiled and handed his cup over. He seemed to be even more attractive than before. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the lighting. He was older than me, at least in his early thirties, but something about that made him more attractive. I was going to be eighteen in a few weeks anyway. Fixing the same drink from the bar, I found out it was a simple spiced rum and Coke but wasn't sure how much to pour of each.

Figuring about half way would be good I mixed his drink first and brought it to him. Taking a small sip, he immediately recoiled and asked how much rum I put in there. Letting him know he let out a hearty laugh and stated he wouldn't be able to finish all of this and get to work the next day, instead offering to share it with me. Smiling and accepting the offer, I brought my cup over to him and took a seat closer on the sofa. Close enough that our legs were touching. He was dressed pretty similarly to me, wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans that sat fairly loose against his skin, and a gray shirt with three buttons, the top two undone showing a small patch of chest fair that reflected slightly in the light.

I watched him carefully pour half of the drink into my cup, the sit back, and lean into the sofa. Following suit after taking what became a much stronger drink than I realized, I leaned my body against his a little bit, taking in the warmth and his cologne. Looking down he smiled and put his other arm around me, pulling me a bit closer. I felt comfortable, relaxed, like I was still in control despite the fact that he was currently holding me. There was no pressure, nothing that made me feel as though something could go wrong.

I decided to take a chance. Just go for it. Leaning upwards, I pressed my lips against his, taking in his taste, his feel. He was tense at first, probably caught off guard, but relaxed quickly afterwards and wrapped his other arm around me, pulling my lips harder against his. Slowly he slid his tongue inside of my mouth, pulling me over to straddle his lap while his hands slowly caressed up and down my chest.

Pulling myself from him and smiling, I sheepishly said thank you, to which he raised an eyebrow once again in curiosity.

"Thank you for being the one to initiate. I was beginning to think you weren't interested."

His voice was smooth and soft, despite have a deep undertone. Not sure how he could think I wasn't interested, he was very handsome, kind, and just seemed like an overall good person. That could be the alcohol making me think all these great things about him, but I just felt like they were true.

Smiling once more as our lips locked again, I felt an overwhelming rush of satisfaction. I did it. I chose my first real kiss, it wasn't some extravagant kiss in the rain, but was still pretty damn great. The thing that made it perfect, was it was my choice. I got to do what I wanted with my body without the choice being taken from me.

I wanted to do more, I wanted to see how far I could take this, but once I felt his hands undo my belt, I stopped him. I don't know why, but I couldn't do it. Maybe I didn't want to rush into something with him, maybe I was scared of actually going further with someone from a bar more than ten years older than myself, honestly it could have been a million different reasons, but he never once got angry. Didn't once question my choice. Said he understood and that he would love to see me again.

I couldn't stop the smile even if I wanted too. I'm not certain how much of this was the alcohol, how much of it was me actually making my choices, but he respected it nevertheless, something I was beyond appreciative of. Looking at the clock he had by the door, I let him know that since it was getting late, I should probably head out. After checking that I was okay to drive he told me to text him once I got home. After agreeing and giving him one last kiss, I took my leave, got in my car, and drove down the street where I planned to sit for a little while.

I didn't want him to know that I lived across the street, that I wasn't even eighteen yet, or anything really about my life at the time. I mean, I definitely liked Kavarr. Despite his name he was curiously without an African accent, instead speaking perfectly with no sign of a hindered leaning experience of trouble pronouncing different words most bi-lingual people I've met are.

I waited about fifteen minutes before driving back to my place and pulling my car around back. Walking inside after unlocking the back door, I made extra sure to be as quiet as possible to make sure I don't wake up my mother or Chloe. Sneaking to the shower by my bedroom upstairs and quickly turned on the water and sent Kavaar a text, letting him know I made it home safely, and had a wonderful night. He responded in kind and asked to see me again which I replied definitely.

After my shower and carefully walking to bed, I made sure to set my alarm for school then lied down. Thankfully I didn't finish that last half drink, otherwise I'm sure the room would be spinning at this point.

I didn't even remember falling asleep, but the blaring of my alarm clock quickly pulled me from what I assumed was a half-assed REM cycle, causing me to jump up in bed by the startling sound. Throwing some clothes on and walking to the bathroom, I started with my usual morning routine, showering, brushing, and doing my hair.

I had a slight semblance of a headache from last night, but nothing in comparison to the pain from the car crash. Simply popping some ibuprofen, and my back pack, I walked downstairs, ready to head out for school. Mom had already left to take Chloe, then would head to work herself. Grabbing a few granola bars I set out towards my prison for the next eight hours.

After a short drive and pulling up to the school, I glanced down as my phone dinged, right when I put my car in park. Smiling after seeing who sent it, I got out of my car and walked to my first period class.

"Good morning handsome, I had a great time last night. Hope to see you again soon!"

"Thanks Kavaar, I had a wonderful time as well. I can't wait to see you again."

Then something happened. I hear another ding. This time, not from my phone. Normally I would think nothing of it, but for some reason my eyes followed the sound.

I definitely wanted to see him again soon, but I never expected this soon. He had his back turned to the class as he wrote on the whiteboard behind him. I couldn't move. I just sat there frozen. What were the odds that this man, I just happened to meet at a bar would end up being my new teacher?

"Good morning class, I'm replacing Mrs. Carter as your English teacher. My name is Mr. Porter. I just moved here from..."

Then it happened. He turned around and our eyes locked. I could feel the blood drain from my face, I could see the panic shoot into his eyes. Neither of us knew what to do, what to say, anything.

He now knew who I was. That I was under twenty-one. That I shouldn't have been in that bar, that he shouldn't have kissed me back.

Then it happened again. The dinging sound of a phone going off once more. This time I knew where it came from. That crappy two minute reminder that you have an unopened text message. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he read the message then all at once resumed his sentence.

"I just moved here from California. I own twelve bars, and I'm scared of bears. Now I want each of you to stand up when I call your name, say one thing about you, and one thing you're scared of. We'll start with you, Leo."

I froze in place. I tried to make myself stand up but my legs felt like jello. Inconsistent and shaky. I could feel the blood draining even further from my face as I got to my feet and introduced myself.

"My name is Leo, and I'm afraid of..."

I could think of anything. I was already panicked. Can I say I'm deathly afraid of this current moment right now? Was that allowed? How much I wanted to run the hell out of this school and move states? My brain froze and I just sputtered out the word "shorts" followed by a barrage of laughter from my fellow classmates, and a somewhat mocking tone from who I now know as Mr. Porter.

"Shorts. You're afraid of...shorts?"

Simply nodding in agreement and sitting back down I hid my face in my hands and half listened to what the other students listed, half panicked from everything that was happening. I didn't hear a word Kavaar had said throughout the whole class, it wasn't until the bell rang that I even knew where I was anymore. Of all the schools, of all the states, of all teachers, why did it have to be him? Why didn't I just ask what change in career he was going for, I might have been able to avoid this entire situation.

"Leo, see me before you leave class."

His voice sounded like a refined explosion. I could feel his anger, disappointment, everything through that one sentence. He waited until after the entire class had left before closing the door and turning to face me.

"This didn't have to happen, Kavaar." I managed to stutter out. "We can pretend that we've never met and that I'm just a student."

Walking over to his desk and sitting down he informed me that he doesn't have another period until fourth and that he's got some time to kill. We needed to talk somethings over. He wrote down a sick note and sent me to the nurse stating that I threw up in his class and needed to go home.

By the time I made it to my car I hear my phone go off once more telling me to meet him at his place. There was a lot to discuss. I asked if he was sure about meeting there due to what happened and he agreed to meet at mine, since it would seem like he was making sure I got home safely.

The car ride back to my home was an anxiety attack on crack. I imagined every possible scenario that could play out, and as we pulled up to my house, with his directly across the street I figured things were about to go from bad, to worse.

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