Don't Let Me Go (Student X Teacher)

Chapter Two

I was sitting on my desk, not really working and tapping my pencil over and over again. Mr Clinton had no one else for detention, it was me only and quite awkward actually. I kept scoffing, and shifting uncomfortably in my chair. I also kept stretching my legs and then crossing them then stretching them. I threw my hand through my hair, over and over again.

   "God damn it! Will you stop fussing for one second Kacy!" Mr Clinton exploded from where he was sitting. I jumped all of a sudden, wanting to cry. Being bipolar had it's own cons. I felt sensitive and wanting to cry over everything and anything. I was such a baby. Mr Clinton noticed this, and sighed.

   "I'm sorry," I finally whispered.

   "Na, it's okay." He said. Silence filled the room again as I started doodling on the table. I just picked up a pencil, drawing whatever came to mind. Drawing helped me a lot. I took my time, going over the heart. I missed Jacob, to be honest but I didn't want to be in a relationship. I wasn't even aloud. What's the point?

   "What are you doing?!" Mr Clinton yelled at me as he came over and examined the table. I had drawn all over it. He sighed, going to the back of the class and pulling out a cloth from nowhere and handing it to me.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Start cleaning," he ordered.

 "Pft. In your dreams," I said throwing the cloth to the floor and crossing my legs again. Mr Clinton sighed so loud, and threw his hands in the air as if: 'WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH YOU!?'

  "What's wrong with you?" He asked.

  "Hah. What's wrong with me? More than you can imagine." I said fighting back the tears again. My voice went thick and cracked. Mr Clinton looked at me with all the worry and then pulled out a chair to sit next to me.

  "You can talk to me," he whispered.

  "No I can't. You're a teacher."

  "So?" He laughed. "I'm a teacher. I'm a good listener as well."

  "I don't expect to tell you my life when I don't even know you."

  "Telling a stranger is easier than telling a person you trust," he winked at me. I just rolled my eyes in disgust that he had the nerve to do that and then put my head down. I tried to close my eyes, and let sleep come to me. Sounds stupid in a classroom.

  "Okay if you don't want to tell me anything at least pay attention to my detention."

  "God. Please, I'm not bothered."

  "This is a school. Not a home where you can lay around and get your mum to make you food whilst you just laze around."

  "Hah. There's where you're wrong," I muttered.

  "I'm wrong?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

  "Damn. You heard me," I whispered mentally kicking myself in my head.

  "Go on. Tell me."

  "Do I have to?" I said.

  "Well, no of course not. But I'd like someone to trust me for once." I could see pain in his eyes.

  "Gain that trust. Maybe I'll tell you later," I said yawning loudly. Mr Clinton shrugged.

  "Your choice," he said getting up from his chair, putting it back in and then walking back to his desk. He sat down and started clicking away at his computer. I pulled out my phone and saw a text from my mum. Oh great.

  'Get home now you dumbass.'

  I sighed, texting her back on my new iPhone 4 that my uncle had gifted me. I tried to keep it away from mum because I knew she wouldn't like it.