You try to give him something to remember you by but it backfires

An undignified squeak escapes your lips and your face goes red. You dart from the bench to catch up to your parents, taking on glance back over your shoulder as you go. Wait, did he just check out your ass?

The thought makes you slow down to a slow stroll, and you try to glance over your shoulder to see, trying oh-so-hard to make it look casual. Yes, you're sure he's checking you out with those piercing green eyes. God he's gorgeous!

Putting a lot of sway into your step you try to walk with an extra wiggle of your butt, moving slowly away from him, feeling your butt and other things warm up at the thought of this gorgeous older man checking you out. By the time you reach the corner of the hall you're all but booty-popping as you move, and take one last 'casual' look back, a sultry 'wouldn't you love to fuck this?' look on your face as you start to wave...

And see Mister Fudge standing alone in the hall-way, staring at your butt with the fierce hunger of a man stranded on a deserted island, with your butt being a gourmet feast and gallon of water in one.

Your eyes widen, but even the shock of seeing the naked lust upon your math teacher's face can't stop your traitorous hand from obeying orders and waving, nor your lips from twitching or your eye from winking. Dammit! Those were meant for Jacob, give them back!

Fudge's face leaps with excitement at your bold flirtation, and you see him beginning to wink and wave back. Of course, by the time he's finished those motions you've all but sprinted around the corner.

What ground you lost to your parents by sauntering away from Jacob you gain back with interest by power-walking at a speed that would have your gym teacher clapping and saying, 'that's the way to do it! Pay attention class!'

Oh God what a disaster, you think. Now your math teacher's going to think you have the hots for him. Worse, he seems to have the hots for you. God you need to raise your grade, get a tutor, anything so you can stop flunking his course. The last thing you want is to have him think you're trying to give him an excuse to have private tutoring lessons with the old guy. I mean, he's in his late twenties or something old like that.

Jacob's face pops into your mind, and you picture those lush lips, imagining them coming down on yours, of his strong hands grabbing the butt you'd all but thrown his way. Mmmm.... he might be ancient, like late thirties or something, but the man is so gorgeous...

Unlike that Fudge, you think, bursting the bubble rudely, and finding your hand on your breast.

"Ahem!"

You jump and stare into the admonishing eyes of your least-favorite (well, maybe now second-least-favorite) teacher, Miss Applebottom. Her hands have stilled mid-motion as she ushers a parent into her classroom, but her steel grey eyes pierce you like harpoons. You whip your hand off your breast, coloring deep red.

You've thrown more than your share of mocking words her way. With a last name like hers she's an irresistable target, and being so clearly dyke-like in appearance who could blame you if you'd made a few jokes along that line? It's not like you're the only one. though maybe you're the only one she caught red-handed. God she glared.

The woman despises you more than any other student, you know it! You keep finding her looking at you with a hungry look like she wants to shove your head into a meat-grinder or something.

Gulping you wave and give a nervous smile. Her eyes narrow before she turns to walk into the classroom, closing the door harder than necessary. Thank God it isn't school hours!

The jabbering of your parents voices catches up to you and you realize that you have to make a choice. Go home and hope you see Jacob again, or maybe just take matters into your own hands.