Teach Me by Amy Lynn Steele

Jeremy leaning against it, waiting for me.
                  He walks toward me and cups my face in his hands. “Are you okay?” His face is full of concern, and I’m positive I look like a complete mess. I sure feel like one. “Did Mr. Perez . . . did he do something to you?” He holds my gaze to make sure I answer honestly.
                  I shake my head. “No. Of course not.” I have to pause to breathe. “I’m just not used to getting into trouble.” A smile pulls across Jeremy’s lips.
                  “My little Ali Goody Two-shoes,” he whispers, smirking. I sigh in relief, knowing that I just dodged a bullet. Jeremy is still holding my face and now has a strange look in his eyes. I know that look—it was the same one he had right . . . before . . .
                  Jeremy’s mouth almost smashes into mine. His lips are eager as his hands slides from my cheeks to the back of my head. He keeps kissing my unresponsive mouth until he is satisfied. I couldn’t react in time to push him back. I literally froze in shock. Why does he think he has the right to kiss me?
                  “I’ll see you tonight at seven,” he says, kissing me one last time before jogging to his car.
                  Oh yeah. Because I agreed to go out with him tonight. Jeremy thinks we are getting back together.
     
     

 
    E i g h t
    Cooper
     
                  I don’t drink very often, but, man, right now I am pretty drunk. Ali has been out with that punk, Jeremy, three times over her winter break. What I can’t wrap my mind around is how she kissed me that last day of school and went right into Jeremy’s arms.
                  I should have given her a detention.
                  I walked to her house tonight and am just waiting for her to get home. I just want to see her, maybe even talk to her. The last time that he brought her home he tried to kiss her, and she almost let him. Maybe she knew I was watching because she looked around then went inside, alone, leaving Fisher on her doorstep. It was pretty sweet seeing how bad he wanted that kiss, how he expected it, and didn’t get it.
                  Now I am sitting across the street and two houses down tying one on. This house is for sale, so no one is occupying it. I should buy it. That’ll show her. Ali has been out for almost three hours again. Probably seeing some stupid movie and eating some stupid dinner. So stupidly predictable.
                  I am so stupid. I hang my stupid head in my hands and pull at my stupid hair.
                  I am drinking some sort of rum wrapped in a paper bag from the liquor store—I have become a cliché: drunken ex-boyfriend stalking the woman he loves and just can’t let go. My stomach burns from the alcohol, so I stop drinking. The first smart thing I’ve done tonight. Leaning against the door behind me, I just stare across the street. How could I have been so hasty in breaking things off with her?  I haven’t forgotten one minute of our summer, though we are now plagued with the colder weather . . . colder times.
                  My eyes close as I picture Ali the first day I saw her: dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail and big sunglasses covering most of her face. I had been watching her for a good ten minutes before she even noticed me. Once she did, my life changed. I watched her from the water as she watched me from the sand. The night that I kissed her, six days later, was like nothing I have ever experienced before. Her body fit to mine, her lips soft but urgent.
                  Not like the last time I kissed her. I was so upset seeing her agree to go out with that idiot, I just couldn’t think straight. I had written that letter only because I didn’t want to hold her back—then to see her moving on. My emotions and testosterone just reacted. I