Page 52 of Eighteen (18)

“Yes,” I say back. “I really do.”

“You like me.”

“I think I’m afraid of you, Mateo.”

“Then why are you here?” he asks. It’s not a confrontational question, either. It comes off as sincere. Like he needs to know the answer as much as I do. “Why not just go out with Danny Alexander?”

I sigh heavily.

“I’m gonna make you admit it tonight, so go ahead, get it over with.”

“Maybe I just want to graduate high school and I need you to help me do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Bowman would find you another teacher if you told him what was going on.”

Another heavy sigh from me.

“Just say it,” he says softly. “I’m dying to hear the words, Shannon. And once you say them out loud, you’ll feel better.”

But I don’t say them. I know he wants me to admit that I like this. But I’m just not sure I do. He’s confusing me. He mixing up the school work with the sex, even though the other day he said they are not related. He’s making them related. He’s tying my need to finish this class in with his desire to control me.

So I keep quiet and he turns some music on—Cage the Elephant, by some stupid twist of fate—and I just stare out at the other cars on the freeway. It takes a good half hour to get to Laguna and the town is bustling with people out for the evening. We park the car and get out, Mateo grabbing a backpack stuffed with things and slinging it over his shoulder as he takes my hand.

Takes. My. Hand.

I look down at it.

“You don’t like the hand-holding?” he asks, as we walk through the small grassy area towards the steps that will take us down to the beach.

“I just don’t understand the hand-holding.”

“It’s a pretty basic display of affection, Shannon. Not real complicated.”

“Ummm. It’s very complicated when you’re fucking your teacher who is ten years older than you.”

He lets go of my hand. “OK.”

I sigh. Jesus Christ. Why did I even come out with him tonight? Why the hell am I even talking to this creep? He’s probably a serial killer. He probably likes weird sex with butt plugs and whips.

“Do you know what the new moon is?”

I roll my eyes. “I might only be eighteen but I’m not an idiot.”

“I have never thought you were an idiot, Shannon Drake. Ever. So do you know what it is?” he repeats.

“There’s no moon on the new moon.”

“But you probably don’t know why, right? Most people don’t understand the movement of the moon, and that’s cool, because it’s sorta complicated. That’s all I’m asking, Shannon. Why do you get so defensive?”

“Why do you make me feel so stupid?”

“Do I?” he asks. “It’s not one of my goals with you, so take that any way you want.”

I say nothing after that. I’m too busy noticing how fucking dark and empty of people it is down here on the beach. It’s winter, for one. And cold in a SoCal kind of way. Regardless of what people think, the beach isn’t somewhere people go on winter nights.

We walk out to the middle of the beach and he unpacks a blanket and throws it down on the sand. “Come on,” he says, lowering himself down. I just stand there as he takes his shoes off.

“Are you going to fuck me out here?”