Chapter 6: Last year

The first few weeks of the summer break found me just lazing around at home. I had bought a couple of new 'beat em up' Sega games and sat in front of my TV generally being a boy. It was great, but something was missing. Kirsty. I realised I was missing seeing her, hearing her, and it was becoming so that I couldn't get her out of my head. How had this happened? How had she got so under my skin?

Kirsty was also featuring more frequently in my dreams, less disturbing dreams in one sense - she wasn't being raped! - but more so in another way - they were increasingly featuring Kirsty and I being intimate. It was not unusual for me to wake in the early hours of the morning, the last wisps of a dream lingering in my head and my cock stiff and painful. I refrained from masturbating and tried to get my act together, but it was no use, she was in my head constantly.

As the summer wore on it simply became worse. I found myself thinking about her all the time, even on a couple of occasions contemplating driving past her house in the hope of catching a glimpse of her. I took a trip to the library each week on the off chance that she might be there studying, but I didn't see her.

It was August, only a few weeks before school started back up, and I was doing some much needed work in the garden. I saw her while she was still several hundred yards away, her shape and the way she walked already so familiar to me that I could pick her out from that far away. She spotted me in the garden and I could see her begin to hurry towards me, almost running.

As she came closer I could see that she was wearing her school skirt and blouse and I wondered if these were amongst the few clothes she owned. She had been working on her tan again and looked fantastic, her features lit up by her obvious excitement.

"Sir, sir, I passed them all! I passed them all!"

I prepared myself for what I knew was coming and sure enough she launched herself at me from a few feet away. Her excitement and joy were infectious and I grinned at her.

"Four As and two Bs sir, isn't that amazing?"

It really was amazing. To have come so far in two years was phenomenal and it was credit to the way she had applied herself.

"Congratulations Kirsty, that's excellent, really good. I'm so proud of you for what you've achieved. I take it that you will now go on and sit your Highers?"

I let her drop to the ground and we wandered indoors while she continued to babble her excitement at her results. I guessed that she had had no one else to share her joy with and that's why she was here. Whatever the reason, I was glad to see her after so long. Kirsty was re-rehearsing all of her papers, critiquing her answers and where she thought she had screwed up, but now realising she hadn't or she wouldn't have got the grades she had. I let her get it all out of her system, feeling happy just to have her there in my kitchen, close.

She told me her father expected her to quit school and take a job full time, but she was trying to resist that as she wanted to go on to the next level - even University. I tried to re-inforce that, telling her that her hard work in the past two years would be all but wasted if she didn't now go on and build on her success so far.

We spent a pleasant few hours sipping soda and going over her options for the future and she convinced herself that continuing on at school was the right decision.

"Dad just thinks that now I've turned sixteen I should be earning a wage, helping to keep him in booze no doubt."

"Ah, sweet sixteen," I said, "when did that happen?"

"Today silly!" She smiled at me.

"Oh, well Happy Birthday Kirsty."

"Don't I get a birthday kiss sir?" She asked cheekily, from her look I could see that she was perhaps only half teasing.

"You might be sixteen Kirsty, but you're still a student and I'm still a teacher." I laughed.

We chatted a while longer until she announced it was time for her to get home. I walked her to the door and that's when it happened. She was in front of me and I reached over her shoulder to turn the lock on the door. She turned round so that she was pressed up against me and lifted her face, her lips pouting and slightly open. God help me, I just couldn't stop myself, I kissed her. It was no ordinary kiss either, it was soulful, passionate, toe-curling and it left us both breathless.

"Kirsty, I'm really sorry. I don't know what came over me, what I was thinking..."

She stopped me babbling in panic by pressing one of her fingers to my lips.

"Shh, don't be sorry sir, I've been waiting a long time for that kiss - don't you dare spoil it by saying you didn't mean what I felt! Thanks for helping me have a great birthday."

And then she spun and darted out of the door, leaving me dazed in the hallway.

"Oh god," I thought, "what is happening to me?"

I spent the last few weeks before school started reviewing my lesson materials and updating them as I always did. The only thing different this year was that I was constantly thinking about Kirsty now, and in particular thinking of 'the kiss'. I had started to think of it in those terms - 'the kiss'. I agonised over it, lurching from guilt at losing control to the thrill of what we had both shared in that one moment.

And then school started back and I was up to my neck in teens of varying abilities as I tried to give everyone of them my best, give every single one of them the opportunity to stretch themselves, to be all they could be.

I didn't have Kirsty in my class for her final year and that was a disappointment in one way but a relief in another, as I was still struggling to come to terms with 'the kiss' and what it might mean. The fact that she was at school at all was a victory of sorts, a victory over the Bozo who had tried to get her to take on some dead-end job just so he could use her wages to buy more booze.

I kept tabs on her performance over the next few months and was pleased to find that she was doing as well as ever. I decided to revert to avoiding the Christmas dance that year after the mess I had made of the previous one.

Kirsty turned up at my class the week before the dance with a Christmas card and a request for some advice.

"Sir, do you think Derek's wearing my breasts out? They just don't seem to be getting any bigger and they need to 'cause they're too small."

She thrust the aforementioned breasts out as if to make her point and I admitted to myself that I could see absolutely nothing wrong with them, they looked perfect to me.

"Kirsty, let's not start that nonsense again. What is it that you wanted advice on?"

"Well, this is a difficult one sir. Derek wants to 'do it' with me. I remember everything that you've told me in the past and I don't feel he's pressurising me into it. I think we're both ready to take that step now. What do you think?"

I tried to fight down the sudden urge to be sick. My insides knotted up and a wave of nausea washed over me. I really needed to get to a bathroom, and quick.

"Sorry Kirsty, excuse me..."

I dashed from the room and barely made it into the toilets before throwing up what was left of my lunch. By the time I was finished and had cleaned myself up Kirsty was gone from the room and I was left with a dull ache in my head.

I didn't have any further contact with Kirsty before the Christmas break and as she had given me a card before school ended, I wasn't expecting my hope that she would turn up at my house on Christmas day was likely to happen either.

I went through the normal ritual with my parents, all the while thinking of Kirsty - sometimes with jealousy when I thought of her with Derek and what they might be doing. After eating and exchanging presents it was all I could do not to just rush off immediately. I forced myself to remain with my parents for a little while longer before jumping in the car and speeding all the way back home.

If I was expecting her to be sitting on my doorstep again I was disappointed and when I opened the door in hope rather than expectation there was nothing lying on the mat. I closed the door behind me and forced myself to face up to the fact that she wasn't coming, it was all fanciful on my part.

It was still relatively early and I put on the TV to watch the usual Christmas movies, a glass of wine in my hand.

Of course I spilled the wine when I jumped at the sound of a knock at the door. Putting the glass down I walked to the door, trembling a little in anticipation. I opened the door and there she was, smiling at me, in her eyes that mixture of happiness and concern that I had seen before.

"Merry Christmas sir, um, I was passing and wondered if you might want to lose at monopoly again?" Her voice also carried a little hint of concern, perhaps fear of rejection.

"Well, we'll have to see about that Kirsty, I think a little revenge might be on the cards!"

We played for a couple of hours and she did indeed fleece me once more, delighted at her success over the great business guru. I asked her to stay for dinner and she eagerly agreed, once more setting me to wonder just how well she ate at home as a matter of course.

I'm quite a dab hand in the kitchen if I say so myself and I put together some chicken breasts in cream and white wine. I set the dining table, lit candles and opened another bottle of wine. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a meal so much in my life. We had fun - there's no other way to describe it. Her conversation was witty and intelligent and I discovered more about her interests, her aspirations for the future. Best of all, there was no mention of Derek.

At last I knew it was time for her to go and I offered to run her home. As we walked to the door she stopped to allow me to turn the lock over her shoulder again. She didn't turn round this time but instead asked a question.

"Have I behaved well enough to qualify for 'the kiss' again sir?"

I was stunned. She seemed to think about 'the kiss' in the same way that I did. All reason went out the window and I took her by the shoulder, turning her so that she could once more raise her face towards mine and we could share 'the kiss'. It was everything I remembered and when we broke apart she dropped her head to my chest, snuggling against me.

The drive to her house was made in silence, not an awkward silence, but rather a silence of two contented people, comfortable enough to allow the silence to settle over them. Again she gave me a little kiss on the cheek before thanking me for a great time and slipping out of the car.

On the return to school Kirsty showed the same degree of focus as the previous year in preparing for her exams. She sought advice as to which Universities to apply to and we looked over a range of prospectuses.

I was worried about how her Bozo father was going to react to her decision to go to higher education. He had been belligerent over Kirsty's decision to return to school for a further year rather than get a job and the idea that she might go to University for another three or four years would be bound to cause a problem.

I was right about that, but fortunately things didn't come to a head until after Kirsty's exams. She came to see me after each exam and we reviewed the answers she had submitted. It looked to me like she had performed well and I had little doubt she would make the necessary grades for University entrance.

It was just another night alone at home and I sitting with a glass of wine for company when I heard someone hammering at the door. When I opened it, Kirsty staggered in. She was in a state, one eye was already swelling and closing and there was a mixture of tears and snot on her face. Her shoulders were heaving with the effort of trying to breathe and cry at the same time, and when I pulled her to me to hug her she cried out in pain. I led her through to the sitting room and sat her down while I got a wet cloth and some towels.

Once I had made sure there were no major injuries I slipped into the hall to call Brenda Fenshaw. There was an out of hours service on duty and I asked them to pass a message on to Fenshaw and then rejoined Kirsty. She had calmed down a little, but not much.

"I'm sorry sir, I tried to do what you told me, I tried to run and get out of the house, but when he punched my face I fell and I couldn't think straight."

"What has he done to you, oh my poor Kirsty."

I put my arm round her and began rocking her against my chest.

"He kept kicking me when I was on the floor, yelling at me that I was a lazy cow, that I was kidding myself on I was better than I was."

We sat like that for perhaps an hour as she cried out her sorry tale of abuse. The physical beating was bad enough but it sounded as if the Bozo had been using it as punctuation for his rant at her attempts to better herself through her education, underlining each snide comment with a kick or a punch.

A knock on my door heralded the arrival of Brenda Fenshaw and she took control of the situation, calling the police and an ambulance to take Kirsty for a check up. I felt a little stupid that I hadn't thought to call the ambulance but Kirsty had assured me she didn't think anything was broken.

Once more I travelled with Kirsty in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital and hung around while she was examined. Brenda came to tell me that she had two suspected fractured ribs and the hospital had decided to keep her in overnight for observation. I realised that was why Kirsty had cried out when I had hugged her.