SUMMER CLASS

Do you know the difference between attraction and love?,

They say its like death and life. We never know what’s coming when we feel it.

Trying to spot a face and I see you sitting on the second floor at one of the private
single tables. One would think you were a professor with that base coat you place in the
chair, that black slacks, tie, and glasses that fit the frame of your nose. IT made you
seem like one of those professors with esteem profession and background but there
was a flaw, your shoes were not made for one.

It didn't fit well with the whole get-up you were trying to portray. Does it even matter at a
point, where it can describe how pretty you look anyway?

Your sleeves rolled up, your forearm visible from where I am. Fingers gripping the
mechanical pen, you were writing obviously from a book perhaps or a dictionary? The
frame of your back,

Shoulders broad and glistening soft skin, your frame obviously fitted of a person leaving
in a city life sheltered from the heavy and dirty work. You just fitted well. The face and
body of someone I would go for now.

A clap from professor Harrison falters everyone’s attention to the standing me, “now can
everyone—“ the sound of the bell, signal the end of class.

She was right, you were old. Well, old looking in the eyes of the public and age-gap-
wise on full display to the public. You were a forbidden fruit and that made you sweeter
than any other. You were something I have yet to conquer, something that has held my
attention for so long, and not even doing anything to get it.

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SUMMER CLASS

The infatuation that’s what they call it, you were someone of mine who I deeply admire.
Someone I look up to and would one day become one. Someone of a high profession,
and who established himself in society that came from a small family. Excuses,
excuses. Everything from everyone's mouths is just a token of lies and cover-up of what
happens closed doors.

Close doors of how they talk behind your back, and how that small family of yours was
full of bastards. Unrightful of the privilege that comes with the profession. How dirty your
blood is, you don’t deserve anything yet here you are. In the middle of the party as a
guest of the host.

The talk of the party.

The pauper prince.

“Keep starring at him and he might melt” Charles whispered in my ears as he continues
to assault my neck and as he hugs me from behind. We were on the third floor,
overlooking the party happening in the garden. “Are you jealous, love?” I say to Charles
as I move my body to face him and hands-on his tie. Our lower body to close for comfort
in somebody else eyes. Well if they ever see us up here.

He gave me his Cheshire smile

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Walking the halls of the school with its bustling environment, chatters, and footsteps of
sound that echos through it. It was Friday, everybody loves Friday. The end of a school
week, in which midnight tonight weekends emerge and school in none of the schedule
of the many student bodies. “Alex! Can you give this to harrison?”

______________________________________________________________________

SUMMER CLASS

MONDAY. How would you describe your Monday in school? On the very first day of the
school week, in which you get up early to start your day, eat breakfast, do a bit of
exercise, do some light reading, pick up clothes, and commute to school. Is that how
you describe your Monday routine? If so, we're totally what describes to be morning
people.

I like to commute via train to reach school instead of the school bus or get a free ride
from Charles. Why? I just like going on the train. The morning train rides are not always
crowded. What makes riding the train in the morning nice was the view of the houses
and the people you pass by while riding it.

The sun rising up in the sky, the sunlight and shadows you see. The wind blows in your
face as you open the window seals. The meadows I would pass by while riding the train.
It was nice, it feels nice.

“Alexa?”
______________________________________________________________________

My heart was pounding, I was frightened yet happy. Excited? Maybe….I just couldn’t
breathe, my skin was damp with sweat. With all the running I did from the station to
here. My heart was just hammering too much in my chest. As I try to catch my breath for
the nth time.

I hear footsteps and curses behind me. Charles Caedman Harrison, running for his
towards me, or towards the school gate. “Your almost late alex, the 3rd time this month”
the security guard informs me with worry. “I assure you , its better to be late than to be
closed by the school gate.” I inform him with a smile as I gave him my Identification
card.

Caeds was still far yet close to where the gate was. “You should close it since, 10 extra
minutes have passed” checking his watch, he gives me an eyebrow before sighing then
a nod and proceeded to close the gate. “You kids…..hahahha” Caeds shouts to keep
the gate open and I just gave the guard a satisfied smile and a wink unto Caeds running
form.

“YOor such a bEaCH!”

- That you get for making me run -
SUMMER CLASS

School went on as usual as the week passed. It's Saturday, movie day, or night. I like to
stay indoors, and not go outside at all. Spending 5 days out of the comfort of your home
out of 7 days in a week, are really weird to me. Why would you go out just to spend your
two days out again instead of in a cozy bed?
My parents spend most of the time out at work but they would always come home just
before 7 to eat dinner as a family. Movie after dinner, pizza’s laid out on the table or
floor if we decided to play board games. Or the times were the Harrison family would
come over for dinner. I would spend it at home. The comfort of my bed. As I and caed
would be tangled in it just before 5.
______________________________________________________________________

He holds me in place as he continues his thrust.

His breath hits me,
His hands moving,
Letting go of my hands,
Tracing it from my chest to my hips.

Touching me lightly as I try to quiet down my moans.

“Alexa doesn’t bite down your moans”
His hands on my legs,
He whispers my name as he slows down.

“Alexa”

______________________________________________________________________
“Alexandra?”

Taking a breath of air before smiling at my mother, “Yes, mom?”

“Your application?“ My father asked, his voice of authority ringing in the dining table, as
their cutleries continues movement. Not sparring a glance at them from my plate. I could
only give an answer in which they are satisfied with what came out of my mouth.

SUMMER CLASS