Mackenzie 'Mack' Jordan looked upon the massive college she would be attending for the next two years and felt a thrill of nerves flow through her body. She adjusted the collar of her polo shirt and shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, attempting a nonchalant walk as she entered the establishment.
She knew why she felt nervous about the place, and it wasn't the thought of meeting new people and fitting into a new order. As a rule she was a confident person, somebody who made friends easily and flourished in new environments. She'd been popular in school because of her witty personality and devil-may-care attitude. Her dashing good looks hadn't exactly been a burden, either.
No, it wasn't the new people she would meet that scared her, it was the old face she would not be able to avoid.
Mack remembered her as if she'd seen her just yesterday, when in reality she hadn't seen Carla Suarez in approximately five years. The last time had been on the last day of Primary School. At the tender age of eleven, Mack had been unaware that the admiration she had for her teacher, Miss Suarez, was actually a budding attraction in disguise, masked by the naïvety of her age.
Miss Suarez had been the perfect teacher; young, pretty, caring and sweet, ready to help each and every child in her care. Mack was taken instantly by her warm smile and soft brown eyes. She would bring the teacher things she had made; pieces of juvenile art and cookies she'd made with her mother. She was smitten in the way children often are with adults who pay them what seems like special attention at the time.
A year later Mack was leaving for High School, and it wasn't until several years later that she realised she was a lesbian, and the admiration she'd had for Miss Suarez was in fact her first crush.
She smiled to think of her naïvety now. She would be seventeen in a week, and by this point she was anything but naïve. She had several girlfriends under her belt - none of which had lasted more than a month at the most - but between them she'd learned plenty about how to please the female species, and her almost arrogant confidence was testament to that.
So she was surprised when, upon seeing the name Carla Suarez on her lesson timetable, she'd been overwhelmed with a case of the nerves that she just couldn't seem to shake. It was ridiculous, really. Her silly juvenile crush surely wouldn't mean anything now, would it? Of course not. So why merely seeing the name had caused her heart to start pounding was a mystery to her. An unsettling, somewhat disturbing mystery.
She was jolted firmly into the present by a familiar voice calling her name, and turned to see Jazz making her way through the crowds that Mack hadn't even noticed accumulating. She waited until the mocha skinned girl finally made it to her side before moving off into one of the quieter corridors to talk.
"Isn't this cool!? We're students now!" Jazz enthused, her long black hair still inexplicably shiny and sinfully straight. She and Mack had been an item once upon a time, and even though it hadn't worked out they'd remained firm friends. Friends with benefits when things were a little dry, which suited both of them just fine.
"Being a student doesn't make you any more mature, y'know." Mack teased, "So, what's your first class?"
"Business, you?" Jazz replied vaguely, momentarily distracted by a blonde girl as she sauntered past with a group of friends. Mack shook her head in amusement. Jazz never could keep her mind on the conversation when there were pretty girls around.
"English Literature, which I'm going to miss if I don't get a move on. See you at break, yeah?"
"Yeah..." Jazz muttered her eyes glued to the backside of a brunette now. Mack chuckled and pulled out her map of the building. Time to get this college thing started.
Mack looked up at the number painted above the door and checked her timetable once again.
"Damn, this is the one.." She muttered as she shoved the sheet back into her pocket. On the other side of this door, Carla Suarez was no doubt waiting for the last stragglers of her class to arrive so she could begin. Mack took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She let it out in a long relieved sigh when she saw that the teacher had not yet arrived.
She hurried and found a seat at the back of the room, behind the other twenty or so boisterous teenagers, and tried to make herself look as small as possible, which for a girl who was almost six feet tall was damn near impossible. Still, she grabbed a nearby text book and flicked through it, adopting a a bored expression whilst her eyes took in words like expressionism and realism. Her ears, meanwhile, strained to hear the creaky swing of the door that would herald Miss Suarez's arrival.
It came about five minutes later, and Mack had to exercise great restraint in order to keep her eyes on the book whilst the rest of the students fell quiet.
"Good afternoon, students." Still the same beautifully accented voice with its teasing sound, Mack thought, and slowly she glanced up with eyes so dark they appeared black, and gasped softly as she was transported back to her first day of year six. Carla hadn't aged a day since then and her warm, inviting smile was still very much present.
"Welcome to college level Art and Design. My name is Carla Suarez and you may refer to me as Carla." Mack found her eyes travelling the length of Carla's body - something her eleven year old mind had never done -- and picking out the tantalising swell of full breasts beneath the loose shirt favoured by most artists, and the supple curve of hips that disappeared into shapely jeans-clad legs.
"-you will each find your own artistic niche along the way, and work to nurture it to its full potential." Mack pulled her eyes away when she realised Carla had been talking and she hadn't heard a word of it. She valiantly wrenched her attention to the teacher's words and away from her assets. So far, it seemed she hadn't been noticed by the soft brown eyes she could remember as clear as day. She wasn't sure if she was relieved by this or disappointed, and decided to analyse her feelings another time.
"First things first, I want you to tell me each of your names so I can check them against the register and learn who you are. Lets start at the front and work our way back." The moment of truth was coming. Would Miss Suarez remember the girl who used to fawn over her all those years ago? Would she still see that young girl or would she see the young woman Mack believed she had become?
Panic began to swell in her stomach as the names came closer and louder, and when it was finally her turn, an embarrassing squeak erupted that sounded nothing like Mackenzie Jordan. The whole class, including Carla, turned to look at her and a blush threatened to colour her cheeks. Damn it, Mack, you idiot...She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Mackenzie Jordan..." Mack saw recognition flare in Carla's eyes, but otherwise she made no comment and simply checked off her name on the list.
"Okay, guys and girls, time to get down to business..."
By the end of the class it seemed Mack's little indiscretion had been forgotten, and thanks to the work they had been tasked with, her attention had been solely on the desk in front of her. Once or twice she had sensed Carla at her shoulder and been overtaken by the faint smell of Givenchy, a perfume she distinctly remembered the teacher had a fondness for, a fondness she shared. She inhaled deeply whenever Carla was near in the hopes she would catch whiff of the intoxicating mixture of ingredients she couldn't name. Shit, she thought, its worse than ever.
She was relieved when the bell that signalled the end of the day rang through the corridors, releasing her from her self imposed torture. She quickly gathered her things together, hoping to make a quick escape.
"Mackenzie Jordan?" Chills wound their way around Mack's spine at the sound of her name on those perfectly formed lips, she paused in her clearing immediately and looked up, her eyes meeting Carla's head on for the first time in six years.
"Yes?" She said, warily, like a mouse caught in the the claws of a wily cat. Carla smiled a perfect smile at her and inclined her head.
"I'd like a word with you before you leave, if you don't mind." The voice was so silky sweet, the invitation to be alone with her so tempting, Mack could not decline. She nodded and waited as the class filed out, slowly packing away the rest of her books and zipping up her bag. When all fell silent, she waited for Carla to make the first move.
"You have a great talent, you know." Carla started, moving around the desks until she was close enough for Mack to smell her again. Mack shrugged, unsure what to say, what she was expected to say. Carla continued.
"I always knew you would continue your art. I remember the pictures you used to bring me. I could see you had so much potential." As she spoke, Mack's eyes were drawn to her mouth, and then to the small beauty spot at the corner of her lips. She had a sudden urge to run her thumb over it, to see if she could feel the small blemish or if it would be as smooth as the surrounding skin. She licked her lips nervously, not sure if she would be able to keep up her restraint.
"I just like creating beautiful things..." She replied, her voice slightly shaky. Carla was close, more close than was proper, she was sure, but she was unable to step back. The teacher chuckled.
"You even think like an artist now. You've grown into a fine woman, Mackenzie." Being half a head shorter than Mack, Carla had to tilt her head back to meet the student's eyes. The position made it seem like she was getting ready to accept a kiss, at least to Mack's eyes it did. She swallowed nervously.
"Mack...people call me Mack, now..." She explained. Distantly she heard doors swinging shut, and then nothing. It seemed as though they were the only people left in the building.
"Hmm, Mack..." Carla took a merciful step back, but Mack's relief was short lived as the teacher's eyes roved over her lean, boyish body, her gaze almost a caress. "It suits you." she eventually murmured, and Mack thought she detected desire in her tone. But that was crazy, right?
"Uh, thank you." She uttered, suddenly very aware of her hardened nipples as they rubbed against the fabric of her shirt. Carla noticed them too, and made no secret of it.
