Ms. Anderson

Chapter 7

After returning home from Ms. Anderson's yesterday, my mother questioned me for an hour. I managed to convince her to drop the subject without raising any suspicions about what might be going on between us. She simply advised me to inform her if I plan to stay out overnight, which seems reasonable.

Today is Thursday, and I'm looking forward to meeting my aunt after school. We haven't seen each other in a while, and I'm genuinely excited. She's my mom's sister, and we've always been close, especially after what happened last year. Besides my parents, she's the only one who knows about it.

We agreed to meet right after school. She mentioned she'd pick me up, so I'm outside waiting for her. If there's one thing you should know about my aunt, it's that she's always fashionably late.

While I'm waiting, she texts me that she'll be there in two minutes, so I move further down the street. She drives a Porsche and loves showing it. I can hear her approaching even though she's not in sight yet; her music blasting. As she stops in front of me, she's wearing sunglasses perched at the end of her nose, giving me a playful look.

"What are you waiting for, loser? Get in!" she shouts over the music, and I quickly jump into the car. Before driving off to a bar where we can grab a bite, she pulls me into a hug. It's just a short drive into town, but it's long enough to get hearing damage.

Once we're there she parks somewhere she's definitely not supposed to park, but it's no use in telling her because she couldn't care less.
The neon sign above the entrance is barely hanging on, its flickering lights suggesting it's going to blow up any second.
Despite the questionable exterior, the bar itself is quite charming, with friendly patrons and a welcoming atmosphere.

"So, what do you want to eat?" she asks as we browse the menu.

"I think I'll go for a salad. What about you?" I reply, glancing at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"You're always so boring, eating healthy. Live a little. We all die eventually, so eat something you actually want, not that stupid rabbit food," she says, serious as ever.

"Well then, I'll just go with whatever you're having," I retort with a sarcastic smile, and she signals the waiter to take our order.

"We'll have the steak with fries, please," she tells the waiter, and once he's gone, she gives me a knowing look, aware that I'm not a big fan of meat. It's not that I don't eat it, I just prefer other options.

"Don't worry, you won't die, and don't worry about the cow either, it's already dead," she says, taking a sip of her drink. I just stare at her. I adore her, but she can be quite sadistic at times.

"What's been happening in your life?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not much, just back to school again," I reply, as she finishes her wine and orders another.

"That's great. Anyone caught your eye?" she asks, winking. I feel myself blush, frustrated that I can't keep it under control.

"There is, huh. Who is it? A teacher, perhaps? Because I know you have a thing for older ladies," she teases, fully engaged. I feel myself getting even hotter and quickly take a sip of water.

"Oh my god, it's a teacher. What's her name? I promise I won't tell anyone," she asks, her tone sincere. I trust her; she's never betrayed my trust before.

"Her name is Ms. Anderson. Hannah Anderson," I say, avoiding eye contact.

"Already on a first-name basis? You go, girl!" she exclaims, grinning. "How old is she?" she inquires.