Chapter 17

The next day at school was weird. Well, okay, weirder than the previous weirdness. Gone was the bright sunshine of the previous day, and as rain sleeted across the schoolyard, I rolled over the wet pavement. After skidding into the main corridor, I weaved through my huddled classmates. While they’d been allowed inside because of the weather, they were not yet supposed to go further into the building until the bell rang.

As I stopped to chat with several buddies, I caught sight of Beth. Although she flashed a smile and reddened when I returned it, Nina grabbed her shoulder and hurried her away to their friends. And Jimmy. So far, normal, right?

Except not.

While trundling towards Jer—Ms. Richardson’s room, I decelerated. Once the motors quieted, the damp wheels squeaked to a halt short of the closed door. Even though I wasn’t cold, a shiver rippled through me. As I scanned the lights inside, the door blurred.

With a lengthy sigh, I glanced at Shayna just as she settled her muzzle on my thigh. Her gleaming emerald eyes stared up at me. Time slowed as I ran my nails through the thick hair atop her head until she blinked. Yet, she stayed in place. She knew.

Patience? Nope. That hadn’t drawn me to a complete standstill. At the shake of my fingers, I clenched my teeth. No, I was petrified.

All night I’d tossed and turned as the phantom girl’s warm, perky frame had clung to me. Why? Because while, oh, sure, it’d sounded like every schoolboy’s wet dream. A tryst with a hot teacher who wants to play with you, but...

Submissive?

Really?

After dinner, while my parents were—busy, I’d leaped on the internet. Skipping the porn, I delved deeper, maybe far too deep, and absorbed enough to know several things. First, what she was asking me to do was a lot of responsibility. A heck of a lot. And Ms. Richardson already had trust issues. What if I couldn’t...? I mean, who was I kidding? It was no use. No way could I handle that type of need. One mistake. A single error in handling a person like her, and she could get hurt. Seriously injured, perhaps physically, but definitely emotionally or psychologically.

When my fingers dug deep into Shayna’s fur, she rolled her head before once more blinking up at me. Ms. Richardson deserved better. At the very least, she deserved somebody who could, you know, actually hold her. Even if I was emotionally ready, at the age of frikkin’ eighteen, which I wasn’t, there was no way I was physically capable. I couldn’t even sit myself up, let alone do anything to her. Or for her. It just wouldn’t work.

Impossible.

Oh, and second. Summer was approaching. It wasn’t like I could hop into my car, as all my classmates soon would do, to zip over to her place or meet in some distant hotel. Nope, I had to be driven. In a big frikkin’ van. While riding the chariot. Hoping the van wouldn’t crap out. That its driver wouldn’t notice the hot teacher waiting for me. And praying the lift gate worked. Oh, and also fearing a fault in the chariot’s batteries or motor.

And did she own a power lift? Or even a manual one? No. So how was I getting out of the chariot? Frikkin’ magic? As a hitching groan slipped from me, Shayna rubbed her muzzle under my fingertips.

So, emotionally, not ready. Mentally, a fucking wreck. And physically? Well, based on everyone’s sad faces after the PT assessment, I wouldn’t be competing for Mr. Universe anytime soon.

All of which meant I stopped.

As I stared at the closed door, dragging my shaky fingers through Shayna’s furry neck, I let out a lengthy sigh. Because that was the right choice—to stop. Right then and there. As much as it wasn’t the choice I wanted or the one she’d asked for. But Ms. Richardson deserved better. And she’d find somebody else to trust. As hot as she was, she had her pick of the entire male population of the whole darned planet.

At the jangling of the bell, I jumped.

With approaching voices and footfalls growing ever louder, I glided my palm over Shayna’s arching spine as she stood. Okay, fine. This would be the same as any other normal day. I’d leave any fantasies for a fantasy world. With my mother, life was already strange enough. In truth, far beyond strange, but at least she lived in the same house. Yeh, leave any other illusions alone.

For now.

As I gulped, I shot a glance at Shayna, who only stared over her shoulder. Why had I added that thought?

Once my classmates had pushed open the door and poured past to find their seats, I rolled to my assigned place. With a huff, Shayna settled on her belly beside me. Although her lips were pursed, Ms. Richardson only tilted her head before beginning class.

Despite ever longer glances my way as the day progressed, she remained quiet. And I was a rock. Well, parts of me were definitely rock-like considering the loose ebon dress, short and backless of course, swirling around her frame as she moved. But I said nothing.

“Leave the fantasy behind, crippled boy,” I mumbled.

Okay, so not really a weird day. Perhaps it was only the new, or I guess, “newest” normal.

As the week dragged on, Ms. Richardson’s furtive longing glances and hooded expressions, along with me averting my eyes, became our new school norm.

One time, as I was moving past the teacher’s lounge, she opened the door. For a few brief seconds, the rushing click clack of her heels followed before I zipped into a crowd of students heading back to class after lunch. Nor did she text or call. At least not to me. And dad mentioned no messages from her.

After school, PT was the same. Cindy skulking in the distance while I worked with somebody else. Smiling Jake still smiled. So, nothing out of the norm there.

At home, though, it was weirder, but not in the way I’d expected. Instead, things had reverted to old normal. Mostly. As my mother grew larger, their, hmm, activities became infrequent and much quieter. And my dad was, if not concerned, always hovering near her with that strange clinical assessing expression on his face. Like I said, normal, but not quite.

When Monday again came around, once more I awaited my classmates before rolling into Ms. Richardson’s room. At her slow turn to greet us, amidst the gasps of several others, I sucked in a long, hitching breath.

Although she’d wrapped most of her shimmering black hair in a towering bun, curled strands framed her made-up face. While her smiling eyes swept everyone, at me she wasn’t subtle. Molten obsidian pits, they blazed. And under that fierce gaze, my chest hammered, and fingernails clawed at the armrests. Beside me, Shayna did not lie down. Instead, she sat, ears up, focused on the teacher as she moved to the board.

And Shayna and I had plenty of company while scanning the skin-tight, dark brown dress she wore. Its glossy leather reached mid-thigh, barely, and any bend threatened to reveal all of her well-toned leg—and more. Likewise, any dip and the plunging neckline showed spine-tingling glimpses of her straining deep purple silk bra. As Ms. Richardson click-clacked over the tiles in five-inch stilettos that enhanced her shapely bare calves, hushed comments echoed.

By the end of class, besides mine, a lot of trousers were bulging. When I shifted to adjust myself, Haley Hunter, a raven-haired girl in thick, black-rimmed glasses in the desk next to me, flashed a nervous grin before ripping her eyes away.

As my eyebrow raised, despite crimson slithering up her tensing neck to her cheeks, she remained focused forward. With a shrug, I looked at Shayna. She only sniffed while glancing at Haley before turning to Ms. Richardson.

No.

Despite my fingers clenching the armrests, Shayna remained concentrated on Ms. Richardson. Yeh, I got it, dog. Stay focused. But it still wasn’t right, and as soon as the bell sounded for lunch, I fled amid a racing crowd of classmates.

Ms. Richardson deserved better. She’d be fine. Especially dressed like that. Maybe one of the other teachers would finally ask her out? She’d be okay. She would. Really.

At the end of the day, I found myself in the hallway down from Ms. Richardson’s room with other kids zipping past to freedom. While my dad hadn’t said anything about staying after school for more tutoring, he also hadn’t mentioned stopping.

Either way, I could study until he picked me up. With a sigh, I started for the library. He’d never find out. Well, unless she called and asked where I’d been. With another long exhale, I stopped. As I spun, the motor’s hum reverberated along the empty hall. With her emerald eyes twinkling, Shayna moved out of the way.

“Yeh, yeh,” I murmured as I reached out to scratch behind her ear. “I know. I get it.”

It was time to face her. Get this out in the open. Rip the bandage off and confess that I had no intention of risking her because ... Well, duh, because I couldn’t do what she needed. She deserved better. A full man. Or another boy. Maybe Jimmy Devlin? At the sudden memory of the haunted look flickering behind his eyes, I shook my head. Nah, not him.

In any event, there had to be somebody far better than me for a woman as amazing as her. At the memory of the crumpled PT folder and my dad’s sad expression, the hallway dimmed. Also, anybody else would be much healthier.

When I pushed open the door, Ms. Richardson lifted her gaze from a stack of papers as a nervous grin slipped across her luscious, purple-coated lips. Once I’d locked the door, she rolled her lips as I drew nearer. Despite dashing forward, Shayna avoided the outstretched violet nails. Instead, she circled once and lay beside the teacher’s chair before settling her nose on her paws and staring up at me.

“Hi—”

Her shaky voice halted at the raise of my hand. As her lips pursed, I slowed to a halt beside the desk. Once the chariot’s motors fell silent, I inhaled and scanned only her eyes. Not the tight curvaceous leather lifting and falling somewhere below them. As her glimmering black pools searched mine in return, the only sounds were our breathing and the soft squeak of my fingers clamped on the armrests.

“I need to say something first.” With my pulse pounding in my head, I flicked my gaze to Shayna who stayed motionless, her eyes relaxed, before returning to Ms. Richardson. “I’ve gotta explain.”

After a lengthy sigh, I gripped the armrests tighter and began. In as calm a tone as I could manage, I detailed my fears and fervent hopes for her to find somebody else. As I spoke, air hissed from her, and her fingernails twitched on the desktop. At last, as she quivered, I ended with, “ ... and I’m stuck in a frik—fucking wheelchair, Jer—Ms. Richardson. I’m never going to get better. Never. This is who I am.”

Once I’d fallen silent, eyes wide, she only stared, unblinking, as I gestured at the chariot. For a while, I struggled to find the right words. At last, I sighed and slapped my palms against the side of the chair.

“So, no. This won’t work. It can’t work. As much as I would...” My eyes flashed to hers, now watering as she sniffled, before I added in a softer tone. “It would’ve been—nice.”

With that, my brain simply ran out of words. After the motor whirred to full power, I spun for the door. But Shayna remained in place with her muzzle on her paws. The only things moving were her emerald pools tracking my slow departure.

Well, she’d come along sooner or later. Her dinner bowl was at home.

Just before I’d completed my turn, Ms. Richardson crumpled to her crossed arms on the desk. As body-wracking sobs echoed across the empty classroom, her brown leather-clad back heaved. With my vision starting to blur with tears, I moved to the door. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her. That was the whole point. Not to harm her. Besides, after a good cry, she’d realize I’d been correct. And she’d get over it. Over me. She’d be fine.

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