Lindsay's Crush

“This has probably been the worst week of my life!” Lindsay exclaimed. She was standing in the teacher’s parking lot, the cold rain pasting her shirt and skirt to her body. She had missed the bus, and now faced a two-mile walk home in a downpour. “Figures,” she mumbled under her breath. She stood there making a mental list of all the things that had gone wrong this week.

The eighteen year old was most assuredly having a bad week. On Monday, her father had been in a car accident. He was okay except for a broken leg, which prevented him from going to work, but the family car was a total loss. Tuesday she had broken her favorite bra in gym, and the whole class had laughed at her and called her a fat ass. By Wednesday it seemed like the whole school knew what had happened, and people Lindsay didn’t even know were poking fun at her. Yesterday night she had received twelve prank calls, and then had to explain the whole situation to her mother. Today, Friday, she had spent most of the day trying to hide from everyone.

Lindsay was by no means a normal sized girl, but she wasn’t fat, either. She possessed a very womanly body for her young age. Her breasts were a d cup, and her hips flared out from her waist. The only thing that marked her as young was her childlike face. Despite the attributes, she had no boyfriend; she didn’t even have any close friends. Lindsay knew the other students thought her strange. She was a straight A student, her nose was perpetually in a book, and her large glasses took up half her face. She never wore makeup, and her straight waist length auburn hair was always hanging freely. Lindsay also loved to wear long flowing skirts with chunky black boots. It was how she felt most comfortable, but she was endlessly teased for her ‘odd’ fashion sense. She didn’t fit into any group. She spent her weekends reading Shakespeare, going to see plays, or touring the art museum while her peers were drinking, partying, and having sex. Lindsay had never had sex, she had never even been kissed, but she thought about it plenty; she was a teenager, after all. She even had a crush. It wasn’t on the quarterback of the football team or the pitcher for the baseball team; it was on her teacher, Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith was twenty-eight, six foot two, with a very athletic body, long dark hair, and soulful brown eyes. He was a student at this school the same time as Lindsay’s older sister Lisa, and Lisa had told Lindsay that he was a model and the lead singer of a rock band shortly after high school. But now, he was a teacher, a substitute. He had been teaching Lindsay’s 20th Century Authors class for a week now, and he was going to be here for at least another two; the regular teacher had to take family leave to care for her husband after his bypass surgery.

Lindsay had heard all the girls talking about how hot Mr. Smith was, but she had never seen him before this week. When Lindsay had walked into class on Monday, she at first had not realized who he was. He did not look like a teacher and he certainly didn’t dress like one. He had been wearing all black; leather jacket, jeans, tight shirt, boots, and his hair pulled back in a ponytail. Then he had introduced himself with his smooth deep voice and Lindsay finally understood what all the girls had been whispering about. He was absolutely gorgeous, and from that day on, she had not been able to concentrate on anything but him.

She had even started writing all kinds of sexy letters for him in her black notebook when she should have been paying attention. She had never done any of the things she wrote about, but she had read and seen plenty of love scenes in her books and plays and movies, and she had a very good imagination. She had started another letter today about halfway through class, telling Mr. Smith how much she’d like to straddle his lap and run her tongue over his neck and chest while he fondled her breasts. Then she had described lovingly sucking on his cock, and while she wrote she had felt that warm familiar stirring between her legs. She wanted so much to taste him in her mouth; wanted him to explode inside her. She had been so wrapped up in writing the letter that she hadn’t even noticed class was about to end. When the bell rang, she had lagged behind trying to pack all her books into her bag. Mr. Smith had looked amazing, as usual, in black, as usual. He stopped her on her way to the door to tell her how nice she looked today. She was wearing her usual long skirt, a black one with blue flowers, a black long sleeved shirt, and her boots. Lindsay almost dropped her things in her rush to get out of the room before he saw how red her face was. She had been lost in thought about his comment and the letter she was writing on her way to her locker, and by the time she got the books she needed for homework and went outside, the busses had already gone. So now here she stood, soaking wet.

Lindsay was leaning against a car, trying to ignore the cold rain and dreading the walk home, when suddenly the car had started. She jumped away from it, and then saw the passenger side window roll down. It was Mr. Smith.

“Hey, Lindsay! What are you doing standing out there? It’s freezing.”

“Oh uh hi, Mr. Smith. I missed my bus.”

“Well do you need a ride?” He was leaning over the passenger’s seat to talk to her, and was looking right in her eyes. Lindsay got lost in his gaze. “Lindsay?”

“Huh?”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Oh…if it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you.”

“No, no trouble at all. Hop in.” He opened the door for her and sat up.

“I’m going to get your seat all wet.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lindsay. You’re going to get a cold if you keep standing there.”

“Okay.”

Lindsay got in and closed the door. Mr. Smith turned the heater up full blast and adjusted the vents until they were blowing directly on her. Her teeth finally stopped chattering long enough for her to mumble a thank you as they pulled out of the parking lot. They drove up the street and stopped at a red light.

“Hey Lindsay, could I ask you a somewhat odd favor?”

“Sure.”

“My wife’s been out of town for a week and I hate to admit it but I am hopeless when it comes to housekeeping. If I paid you for your time, do you think you could come over to my place and help me out?”

Lindsay froze. This must be some kind of dream, she thought. I can’t have just heard what I think I heard.

“I know it’s a strange request…I probably shouldn’t even be asking you something like that. You probably have plans on a Friday night, anyway. You can say no if you want.” Lindsay looked over at him and he was looking at her. She looked into his pleading eyes.

“No, it’s okay that you asked. And I don’t have any plans. I would love to come and help you.”

“That’s great! Thanks, Lindsay I really appreciate this. You can call home from my place and let your parents know where you are.”

Just then the driver behind them blew their horn. Lindsay looked towards the stoplight; it had turned green. Mr. Smith waved towards the car behind them and turned left.

All the way to his house, Lindsay was absolutely lost. Her brain didn’t seem to want to function. She tried to answer the questions he was asking about school, friends, family, but she would fall silent after only answering with a yes or no. He was trying hard to have a conversation, but her mind kept drifting. She felt as if this couldn’t possibly be happening, like she was watching one of her plays. She couldn’t even bring herself to look in his direction; it was just too much. Instead, she turned her attention to the rain falling outside the car. Eventually, he clicked the remote on his visor and drove into the garage of a small but nice house. He turned off the motor and clicked the remote again to close the garage door.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lindsay. Are you okay?”

“Yea. Yes, I’m fine.” She opened her car door and got out. He followed suit and then opened the door and led her inside.

What she saw in those first few seconds deflated the crazy intimate thoughts she had been having of his hands all over her naked body. The sink was absolutely full of dishes, there was a very large pile of clothes in front of the washer, and take-out containers were overflowing the trashcan.

“The phone is right there if you need to call home. I am going to change clothes and see if I can find you anything to wear while your clothes dry.”

“Okay.” Lindsay sighed heavily as she dialed her home number. Her brother answered the phone and she asked him to tell their mother that she was studying with a friend for a few hours. Her mother never worried about her, anyway. She hung up the phone and rested her head on the wall. “What the hell was I thinking, that he actually liked me? God, I’m an idiot.” She turned from the wall to find Mr. Smith standing there, a towel in his hand.

“I uh, brought this for your hair.”

Oh, my God! She thought. He just heard that! Lindsay was absolutely mortified. She looked down at her wet shoes and felt like crying.

“Lindsay?” He walked up to her, until she could see his shoes right in front of hers. She didn’t look up. “Lindsay, please look at me.”

Lindsay just shook her head no. Mr. Smith reached out and touched her chin, raising her face to him.

“Lindsay, I feel like I should tell you the truth. My wife isn’t out of town. She and I have been separated for a few months now, and today I got word that she filed for divorce. I asked you to come here not to help me clean, I asked you to come here because I am lonely and upset, and I didn’t want to be alone tonight. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you in the first place. But I do like you, Lindsay. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have made up this stupid story. Please don’t be upset.” His fingers still under her chin, Lindsay looked up at him. He looked as if he wanted to cry as well. Lindsay’s heart was close to bursting to see him so upset.

“Oh Mr. Smith, I’m so sorry about your wife.” He dropped his hand to his side, and as she watched, a tear rolled down his cheek. “Oh God, please don’t cry!” Lindsay didn’t think twice, she just threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his head down to her shoulder. His arms slowly enveloped her waist until he was holding her very close and tight. He buried his head in her hair, and quietly sobbed.