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and these dreams of Charlotte are getting more consistent. Digging myself out of the hole after each one is so fucking difficult.

The day drags on and then math takes the fucking cherry off the cake.

“Ivy,” Mr. O’Connor calls me. “Did you hand in your work from this weekend?”

He is sitting at his desk and the room is quiet, everyone turning to look at me curiously. I’m the girl that ignores everyone and I’m rarely called upon by teachers.

“Sure did.” I answer. What the fuck is wrong with him? He saw me hand it in.

“I don’t have it here.” He states and I screw up my face in confusion.

“It has to be there.” I counter.

“See me after class, Miss Greene.”

That’s his plan? Hide my work so I have to stay late after? Is he that desperate to fuck his student? Whatever.

I lay my head on the wooden top of my desk and wait for the end of the day bell, I need to get out of here.

When the bell finally rings, I wait patiently for the asshole to make his move, and then I can turn him the fuck down.

A few minutes after the last student leaves, he’s still sitting at his desk, and I slap the wood on mine.

“What is going on?” I lose my patience. “I handed in my shit and you know it!”

The classroom door opens and Mr. Pratt from Phys-Ed comes into the room. He leans over Mr. O’Connor’s desk and kisses him passionately. What the fuck is happening?

“Ivy looks confused.” Mr. O’Connor states.

“Why am I here?” I ask

“I thought I would introduce you to my partner.” Mr. O'Connor says.

Suddenly, I’m feeling scared and cornered and it reminds me of Dean. They must see the look on my face because they try to backtrack.

“I thought it would be fun.” Mr. O’Connor’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

My heart begins thrumming in my chest and their voices sound like they are floating away. Why would he think I’d want to join in with them both?

I stand quickly, my chair flying back, and crashing to the floor.

“Whoa,” Mr. Pratt looks a little green. “I thought you said she’d be into it?” He stares at Mr. O’Connor who’s watching me hastily grab my bag.

“Let me out.” My voice shakes, I can’t be trapped in here with them both.

I thought it would be fun.

Dean’s voice booms in my ear along with the clap of a leather belt.

“Move!” I scream and both men back up against the blackboard, their hands in the air.

“Ivy, we’re not here to hurt you.” Mr. Pratt tries to placate me but I’m already yanking the classroom door open and running down the hallway.

My brain snaps to autopilot as I run for the car and jump inside the driver’s seat, locking the doors behind me.

A lot of my anxiety is coming from the fact that I have to somehow stop Uncle Trent from looking into Dean and avoid ever seeing him again. I’m fucking done with teachers. What the hell was I thinking, getting involved with Mr. O’Connor?

There’s a banging on my window and I startle, a scream escaping my mouth. I look and see my Aunt Adri standing there, her hands on her hips. I start the car and press the button to roll down the window.

“Oh, hey Aunt Adri.” My voice cracks and she raises a brow.

“You okay, kiddo?” She looks around the parking lot. “I was in my car when I saw you run by.”

“Oh,” I clear my throat, “yeah, I’m okay. I just need to get home for dinner with Dahlia.”

It sounds suspect, it’s not even three in the afternoon and she knows my family has dinner at seven, but I don’t have anything else coming to mind.

“Okay, as long as you’re good.” She looks over her shoulder as Mr. Pratt opens the main doors and sees us together.

I can see his eyes widen from here and Aunt Adri turns away from him, looking at me again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She stands back up. “I love you, Ivy.”

“I love you, too, Aunt Adri.” I nod and then she walks slowly back to her car, watching Mr. Pratt until he turns back inside the school.

Fuck.

I’ve been in my bed since I came home, uniform still on, and the blankets pulled up around my ears. There’s a soft knock on the door and I assume it’s Dahlia coming to check on me.

“Come in.” I call out.

The door opens and there’s no little squeal or footsteps, when I feel the bed dip with weight, I unbury myself to see my mother.

“Hey.” She says softly, pulling the covers away from my face.

“Hey.” My voice comes out as a squeak.

“How was school?” Her hand smooths back the hair on my head and I almost cry from her touch.

“Fine.” I croak.

“You know,” she looks like she’s struggling to piece together what she wants to say, “my childhood was happy but difficult. My teenage years were filled with anger and violence. I want to say my adult life has been amazing and being a mother has been a breeze.”

I sit up at her words because I can feel her struggling to speak about her feelings and I have this problem, too.

“Being your mother has been hard, you gave me the roughest go at parenthood.” My heart begins to sink, “I couldn’t figure out how to parent you, your independence scared the shit out of me. You would scream at me if I tried to tie your shoes, you were that adamant you could do it on your own.” A tear slips down her cheek and I am stunned to my spot on the bed.

“You have this fire inside of you, Ivy, and I just don’t know how to hold you close without being burned. Saxon will tolerate me, even let me love him without walls, and Dahlia is just eager to please everyone, even at the expense of her own happiness. But you wanted to figure everything out

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