"I blast the stereo in a vain attempt to drown out my thoughts. I don’t want to be thinking about him and analyzing every detail of first period. It makes me feel like a young, foolish girl, and I’m embarrassed that I can’t control the way my body reacts every time his eyes meet mine."
In a quiet town in the East Valley of Phoenix, Arizona, everything in life is seemingly perfect for eighteen-year-old Kaley Kennedy. She has loving parents, loyal friends, and is dating the hottest boy in school. With only a few months left of her senior year, she’s looking forward to an epic summer before heading off to Los Angeles for college.
Without warning, a gorgeous new math teacher interrupts Kaley’s predictable little world, challenging who she is. Suddenly, parties, dates, and Friday nights with her friends seem empty and unfulfilling as she finds herself obsessing over his every move. Desperate for something more, but determined to ignore her fierce attraction, every single relationship in her life begins to crumble by forces beyond her control. Struggling to transition from adolescence to adulthood, Kaley must choose between playing it safe or risking more than just her heart. . . .
EXCERPT
I do the entire problem over three times before finally summoning the courage to raise my hand. What I wouldn’t give to be enrolled in an all-girls Catholic school right now, so I could actually focus on learning math instead of being intimidated to raise my hand because of my teacher’s insane good looks. He’s working with another student when he notices my hand in the air and gives me a quick nod to let me know he’ll be there in a minute. My palms moisten, and I wipe them down on my jeans, scolding myself for being such an idiotic school girl with uncontrollable urges. So pathetic.
“My calculator’s messed up,” I say as he approaches my desk.
“Let me take a look at it.” I hand it to him with swift obedience.
“I swear I entered everything correctly.”
“I can figure it out,” he says. “I can work these things forward and backward.”
My stomach swirls as he squats down next to me, pressing a combination of buttons and pulling up screens I’ve never seen before. I peer over his shoulder in amazement. This man can work a TI-84 graphing calculator like nobody’s business. Am I seriously finding this sexy? I’ve just reached a new low.
“Okay, your settings were off, but I also think you entered a number in wrong somewhere.”
“I checked three times,” I say, annoyed.
He smirks. “It’s a machine; it can’t make a mistake. It can only do what you tell it to.” He places it in front of me and stands. “Is it updated?” he asks, picking it up again. I have no idea what he means, and I think he can tell with the way he smiles at me. “I’ll check it for you.”
He walks over to his desk and plugs it into his computer. I didn’t even know you could do that. I observe him as another student comes up to his desk and asks a question. His self-assurance is so alluring. High school boys seem to overcompensate for their lack of confidence, coming off as arrogant. But Mr. Slate is older, more mature. He never crosses the fine line that divides confidence and arrogance. And even though I try to fight it, I’m finding myself drawn to him like a hummingbird thirsty for nectar. He makes me want to be more mature, sexy, and assertive.
He makes me want to be a woman.
“Here you go, Kaley,” he says, dissolving my thoughts.
He sets my calculator on my desk, his chestnut eyes gleaming into mine.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
Oh, help me.
“My calculator’s messed up,” I say as he approaches my desk.
“Let me take a look at it.” I hand it to him with swift obedience.
“I swear I entered everything correctly.”
“I can figure it out,” he says. “I can work these things forward and backward.”
My stomach swirls as he squats down next to me, pressing a combination of buttons and pulling up screens I’ve never seen before. I peer over his shoulder in amazement. This man can work a TI-84 graphing calculator like nobody’s business. Am I seriously finding this sexy? I’ve just reached a new low.
“Okay, your settings were off, but I also think you entered a number in wrong somewhere.”
“I checked three times,” I say, annoyed.
He smirks. “It’s a machine; it can’t make a mistake. It can only do what you tell it to.” He places it in front of me and stands. “Is it updated?” he asks, picking it up again. I have no idea what he means, and I think he can tell with the way he smiles at me. “I’ll check it for you.”
He walks over to his desk and plugs it into his computer. I didn’t even know you could do that. I observe him as another student comes up to his desk and asks a question. His self-assurance is so alluring. High school boys seem to overcompensate for their lack of confidence, coming off as arrogant. But Mr. Slate is older, more mature. He never crosses the fine line that divides confidence and arrogance. And even though I try to fight it, I’m finding myself drawn to him like a hummingbird thirsty for nectar. He makes me want to be more mature, sexy, and assertive.
He makes me want to be a woman.
“Here you go, Kaley,” he says, dissolving my thoughts.
He sets my calculator on my desk, his chestnut eyes gleaming into mine.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
Oh, help me.
Kelly Stevenson is a professional writer from Phoenix, Arizona. She has a background in journalism, psychology, theater arts, and animal science.
When Kelly is not writing, she enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her family.
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