Page 76 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Monday

I’d skipped my weekly therapy session. All I could think about was how Penny had looked at me after class on Friday.

During her speech. Pretty much every time I’d ever seen her.

I’d tried to keep my distance. But what was the point when she didn’t want me to?

We were both consenting adults. I was done taking the high road.

And I couldn’t look Dr. Clark in the face and lie anymore. Not when I knew what I was about to do.

Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I realized what my infatuation with Penny was.

A game. I’d win it and then I’d be able to walk away.

I didn’t need to talk to Dr. Clark about that.

He’d just tell me I was making a mistake.

That I deserved someone good. Yadda, yadda.

Something about the universe giving back what I put out.

Complete and utter bullshit. Because I knew that I didn’t deserve anything other than the hell I was living.

If I had changed, and if I was suddenly a good man, I wouldn’t be thinking about a student.

Actually, there were a lot of things I wouldn’t be doing if my therapy sessions had helped at all. I wouldn’t be alone every night. I wouldn’t be bitter about the life I’d left behind. I wouldn’t be terribly unhappy.

I tried not to think about any of that as I climbed the stairs up to my Comm classroom. If my plan worked out the way I presumed it would, I’d have a moment of relief from my dismal thoughts. I’d be focused on Penny. Her warmth. Her smile. Her moan. She’d be the reprieve I desperately needed.

I smiled to myself as I opened the classroom door.

All I needed to do was get through today and tomorrow and then she’d be beneath me.

I took a deep breath, but not to clear my thoughts.

For the first time since I’d met Penny, I allowed myself to embrace them.

And for some reason, not warring over my desire for her helped clear my head.

"So I have the grades here," I said and lifted a stack of papers out of my satchel. "You'll get them at the end of class. The main problem that I saw with the first speeches was the amount of eye contact."

I grabbed the podium from the corner and placed it in front of the class. "Okay, I'm going to give you two examples, and I want you to tell me which speech is better." I pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket and began reading it word for word without looking up:

"My older sister always inspired me growing up.

She did everything first, fearlessly. And I admired her for that.

Her insane courage was something that I lacked, but reveled in.

She always pushed the boundaries and knew what she wanted.

And she was determined enough to go after all her dreams. I just wished she had rubbed off on me a little more.

Don't get me wrong, I love being your teacher.

But I like to follow the rules. I like to play it safe.

Because of her, though, sometimes I feel compelled to take those risky chances.

Sometimes I make huge, stupid mistakes and don't look back. She inspired me to be strong."

For one of the first times this semester, I was actually sticking to the lesson plan. And I didn’t think it had anything to do with my ode to my sister. This speech was for Penny. She was my risky chance. She was the mistake I was about to make, and I wasn’t going to look back.

"Okay, let me try that again. And let's see if you can see a difference." I gave the same speech, but only looked down once. For most of it, I gazed around the room. I made gestures with my hands. I delivered my joke a little louder and smiled. I paused as the class laughed so they’d be able to hear my next point. And since they thought I was hilarious today, probably because I was actually doing my job well, I added to the end: “Not physically strong. I’m pretty sure I could bench press two of my sister.” I smiled as the class erupted in laughter again.

Another point to make was that a little improv never hurt anyone.

"So, which speech was better?" I asked.

A hand shot up in the front of the room.

"Yes, Miss Lang?" I was also finally remembering the students’ names. I was completely in my element.

"The second one. In the first one, you didn't make any eye contact. And you were pretty monotone throughout."

"Right. Was there anything else about the second one that was better?"

Another hand shot up.

"Mr. Potter?"

"You emphasized different parts of the speech and also had more personality during it. You used hand gestures and stuff."

"Right.” I pointed at him to further emphasize his point. “So how many of you preferred the first speech over the second one?"

No one raised their hands.

"So why did half of you give me a speech like that first one, if you can so easily tell that the second one is better?"

Again, no one raised their hands. I turned around and wrote "fear" in all caps on the chalkboard.

"Not everyone was lucky enough to have a sister like mine growing up, to help teach you how to be fearless.

It's completely normal to get up here and stutter and have your knees shake.

But what's there to be scared of? Me? Certainly not.

Like I told you before, I'm a fairly easy grader. "

I was true to my word. Most of the class had gotten As and Bs even though the delivery of their speeches needed vast improvement.

"So are you scared of your peers? You shouldn't be.

You'll never see the majority of them ever again after you graduate.

And chances are, they aren't even listening.

They're probably daydreaming about their next class or that guy or girl they have a crush on.

Not that I'm encouraging this behavior. We should all be listening to each other's speeches so you can get ideas on how to improve your own.

But I'm getting sidetracked. My advice for you all for your next speech is simple.

Stop worrying so much. Take a walk on the wild side and be fearless. "

I walked away from the podium and lifted the stack of papers on my desk.

"As soon as you get your grade, you can leave.

If you have any questions about it, feel free to email me or stop by my office hours.

I went easy on everyone this time, but make sure to take the advice I give to heart and try to improve for the next project.

And most importantly, don't forget to make eye contact. "

I began to wind around the classroom handing out the papers. Every now and then I’d have to call out a name that I wasn't sure of, but for the most part, I could put faces to the names on my roster now. Finally I walked to the back of the room and placed Penny’s paper face down on her desk.

When I said most students received As and Bs, I meant all of them except one. Well, technically Penny did receive an A. It was marked as such in the database. But that wasn’t what I’d written on her paper.

I smiled to myself as I handed out the rest of the grades and thought about what Penny was currently reading…and hopefully fuming over.

Student: Penny Taylor

Topic: Yourself/Acquaintances

Miss Taylor,

It didn't seem like you were properly prepared for this presentation, despite being one of the last students that had to present.

You stumbled over your words. You failed to make sufficient eye contact with the audience.

You failed to harness your audience's attention.

And the general lack of confidence you portrayed left your audience wanting.

You only loosely followed the topic of the presentation, and the topic that you did choose did not seem constant.

Your examples were scattered and unrelated.

The presentation as a whole was unfocused.

You failed to nail your point home, Miss Taylor, mainly because it was unclear what that point even was.

Grade: C-

All of it was nonsense. Penny had given the best speech of anyone in the entire class. A unique, thought-provoking topic. Which was why she truly did receive an A. If she looked closely enough, she’d see the original grade beneath the whiteout.

I glanced at her reading the page as I pulled my satchel over my shoulder.

She definitely looked pissed. My eyes ran down her body.

A tight black tank top tucked into a turquoise skirt.

Tomorrow I’d finally get to see what she looked like underneath all that.

I’d dreamed of it too many times to count.

I should have known we’d be together eventually.

Because every dream always ended the same.

With me deep inside of her and my name on her lips.

I left the classroom before she had a chance to storm up to me right now. I’d waited long enough for her, but one more day was worth it. Just one day. I could already picture her storming into my office hours. This time I’d lock the door behind her.