It took Connor a minute to realize the car wasn't moving.
"Where do you live?" Mr. Meyer's voice startled him.
Connor turned his head and met his teacher face-to-face. He stared at his blue eyes for a second, before quickly averting his gaze down to his own shoes.
"Wisteria Lane," Connor managed to mutter. He looked at the floor of Mr. Meyer's car, and was struck by how clean it was. The black rubber mat was spotless - no mud, no shoe prints, no food crumbs. It was as if no one had ever sat in this passenger seat. Connor lifted his shoes to check if he was making the mats dirty. Let's not cause Mr. Meyer any more trouble, he thought.
"Fasten your seatbelt," Mr. Meyer said. Connor's heart sank with dread as he clicked the seatbelt in place. How could he handle being in the car with Mr. Meyer the entire ride home? Then he heard the engine rumble. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mr. Meyer place his hands on the steering wheel. The car started moving forward, almost gliding on the road, the engine humming along at a pleasant pace. The comforting breeze of the air conditioner grazed Connor's skin. His body seemed to relax, easing up against the soft material of the seatbelt. Connor felt a strange sense of safety. Here, with Mr. Meyer by his side.
"We don't have to talk about it now if you're not ready," Mr. Meyer said, "but we'll have to eventually."
Connor sighed. If there was a magic button to make both of them forget what had happened, he would pounce on it. Wait, would he? Connor squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands onto his face. His cheeks felt hot, and his breaths warm against his palms. Memories of the bathroom trysts with Mr. Meyer flashed across his mind. The sight of Mr. Meyer's bare ass. Their lustful moans bouncing off the walls. The euphoric release inside Mr. Meyer. Did he really regret what happened? And how good it felt? Question after question flared up in Connor's head, multiplying and mutating like cancer cells. Why couldn't things just stop being so confusing?
"Do you want to know how I found out it was you?" Mr. Meyer's question snapped Connor out of his thoughts. He dropped his hands from his face and opened his eyes. Yes. Of course he wanted to know. But shame seemed to be paralyzing his tongue at the moment, so he just gave a weak nod.
"I recognized your voice," he said with a light laugh, "you know, when you said 'Holy sh-' after I slid my...you know...through."
"Oh," Connor muttered. That made sense. Half of Connor is beating himself up for such a stupid slip-up. The other half was suddenly getting butterflies: Mr. Meyer knew his voice. Connor quickly shook the feeling away. Not the time to be thinking like a 14-year-old girl. Then his brows furrowed as he realized something.
"Wait a second, that means," Connor said, "you already knew it was me before I..." he turned towards his teacher in the driver's seat.
"Yeah," Mr. Meyer sighed, "that's why I said you didn't have to do it. You were really nervous, I could tell." He shot Connor a sympathetic look before reverting his eyes to the road.
Woah. So Mr. Meyer had known it was Connor all this time. He knew it was Connor when they fucked, when Connor shot his load inside him. Did Mr. Meyer enjoy it, then, knowing it was him? Maybe he had to imagine it was someone else? Connor thought back to Mr. Meyer's text after they were done: "Thanks a lot, sexy." Connor felt himself blushing. So Mr. Meyer found him sexy.
"So um," he heard his teacher say, "don't feel ashamed right now. I'm the one who's supposed to be ashamed. I knew it was you and I...I went ahead with it, so," Connor saw Mr. Meyer swallow before he continued, "if anything happens, if anyone finds out, just put the blame on me, OK?" The car came to a red light and stopped. Mr. Meyer looked straight into Connor's eyes, and said: "You're a good kid, Connor. None of this is your fault, alright?"
Connor's heart felt heavy, as if guilt and shame had spilled into the four chambers and weighed the organ down. A good kid, Mr. Meyer had called him. Did he really deserve that label? Granted, Mr. Meyer was the one who suggested full-on anal and knew it was Connor before it happened. But he was the one who started all of this when he slid his hand under the partition and jerked Mr. Meyer off. Would a good kid do that? Would a good kid trick his teacher into having sex at school? Connor pulled himself away from Mr. Meyer's gaze. He saw the traffic light turn green, and they started moving forward again.
"OK, Wisteria Lane. Which one is yours?" Mr. Meyer said as the car turned into the familiar neighborhood. Connor pointed to a redbrick house on the right side of the road. Home. Yet, as the car pulled up in front of his door, Connor's legs felt numb. With his parents out of town, he didn't want to be home alone. Something about it made him feel suffocated. He clicked the seatbelt open, but he didn't move. He sat still in the passenger seat, staring at the menacing front door.
"Connor, is everything OK?" Mr. Meyer asked, "It's just rebellious acts are usually, you know, a reaction to a big change in circumstances or things like that. And you're not the type of kid who goes around doing...these things," he cleared his throat. "So is something up? At home, at school..."
Connor looked into Mr. Meyer's blue eyes. They exuded a sense of comfort that Connor had never noticed before. When Mr. Meyer taught, they'd glint with excitement and passion. When a student misbehaved in class, they'd narrow and bore into said student with a silent sternness. But now, they were strangely warm. It was as if Connor could gaze into their mesmerizing azure color for hours on end and watch his problems disappear.
"I think I'm just...," Connor sighed, "lonely." His voice faltered at the word. He saw his teacher's brows raise then slide back down. Mr. Meyer knew, Connor thought. Connor always thought he exuded big kid-too-focused-on-school-to-have-friends energy.
"What about you?" Connor asked.
"What?"
Connor shrugged. "What's your reason? I mean, you don't seem like the type of person who would do...these things either," he said, "So is everything alright with you?"
Mr. Meyer opened his mouth, about to say something, but then pressed his lips together. Connor saw Mr. Meyer looking in his direction, but not really at him. His eyes seemed distant and lost in thought. After a moment, Mr. Meyer blinked, and gave Connor a small smile.
"Guess I'm just really lonely, too," he said.
Mr. Meyer? Lonely? That statement took Connor aback quite a bit. Mr. Meyer was a charming, good-looking man with a stable job. Everyone always thought he had already been snatched up. The gears in Connor's head started turning. He remembered when he was a freshman, people were talking about Mr. Meyer's husband. Matt? Mark? Something with an M. Wait, was he the one who died in that car crash a few years back? Dang. How could Mr. Meyer stay so upbeat and witty after something like that?
Connor's mind suddenly flashed to what his biology teacher once said in class about how babies could literally die from a lack of human touch. If loneliness could kill, then it sure could drive two people to acting wildly out of character. And now, loneliness was about to drive Connor to an even more reckless action.
He reached over and pressed his lips onto Mr. Meyer's.
Time stopped. Connor's breathing stopped. So did his teacher's. All Connor could feel in that moment was Mr. Meyer's rough lips pressed against his own.
Then that moment ended. Connor pulled away, his face only centimeters away from his teacher's, and opened his eyes. Mr. Meyer's blue ones were staring straight into him in shock. Connor could feel his teacher's warm breaths brushing against his lips, where the taste of Mr. Meyer still lingered. Shit. What the fuck did he just do? Connor opened his mouth and tried to form words, but the shock - and the afterglow of his first kiss - seemed to constrict his vocal cords. He wanted to say sorry, but he couldn't. Deep down, he didn't want to. And in reality, he didn't need to, either, because Mr. Meyer placed a hand on the back of Connor's neck then let their lips crash against each other.
Connor froze for a second, then felt the tension in his body dissipate into the heat of the kiss. He closed his eyes and let his teacher guide him as their lips moved together in a steady rhythm. He felt Mr. Meyer's beard graze against his chin, making his skin pleasantly prickle. Connor raised one hand up and caressed his teacher's hair, feeling the soft locks brushing against his palm. The kiss grew hungrier. Mr. Meyer tugged on Connor's bottom lip, which elicited a faint moan from him. Their tongues found each other amidst the undulating lips. As Connor's tongue tasted Mr. Meyer's, he felt his inhibitions evaporate, and let his hands fall to his teacher's body. He felt the man's muscles moving underneath the silky fabric of his shirt and his heart beating rapidly inside his chest. Connor thought his own heart must have been racing as well. His hands traveled down to the teacher's soft, cushiony belly. His fingers lowered, and lowered, reaching Mr. Meyer's belt, when all of a sudden, he felt his teacher's lips pull away.
"We can't do this here," Mr. Meyer said breathily, placing his hand onto Connor's and gently pushed it away from his groin.
Connor nodded his head. If someone saw them kissing, they would be in so much hot water. He swallowed and mustered up courage in every fiber of his body to speak.
"Um... should we," he said, his heart pounding, "go to my room then?"
