The Shy Girl by deepemerald..,
Jessie Stephenson was a shy high school senior. All through high school she’d wished she was more like the outgoing cheerleaders or the captains of the debate teams or anyone other than herself. She spent the day trying to disappear into the shadows at school and was incredibly relieved when the final bell went so that she could get into her car and drive home. Some people remarked about her reticence, they couldn’t figure out why she was so reserved. Some guys had asked her for dates and she’d blushed all over and mumbled an excuse. She didn’t attend any school functions, despite being a very pretty girl.
Her shyness had started when she’d moved to this town, four years ago. She’d been tall and awkward, still going through puberty, and some kids had called her nasty names. Having already been a rather introverted girl she’d then pulled away completely and now she didn’t know how to get out of this spiral. She was afraid people would laugh at her if she tried to participate. Inside herself she was sure that the boys who asked her out only did it so that they could make fun of her. She was much better off safe inside the house where she lived with her grandmother since the death of her parents.
Earlier this year her only friend at school, her mentor and the person who really believed in her and encouraged her to apply to go to college, had suddenly taken ill. Her English teacher, Mr Brown, had had a stroke and was now in a nursing home. He’d been replaced by Mr Andrews, and rather than being Jessie’s mentor he set off a completely different set of emotions in Jessie. She was convinced that the whole school could see the way she looked at him and she’d gone from loving her English classes and seeing them as her refuge to feeling like every minute was torture.
Mr Andrews was in his early 30s, at least 6’2″ tall with a fairly athletic build. His short hair was brown and his eyes were an unusual green colour. Jessie could not stop thinking about his eyes. They seemed to change colours when he looked at her and she tried to avoid his gaze. She loved him. In bed at night she fantasised about making love with him. She was as fascinated by sex as any teenage virgin and she’d spent hours on the Internet, looking at pictures of couples having sex and she wanted it all with Mr Andrews. She’d sometimes steal a glance at his crotch and get hot and bothered at the thought of his cock sliding into her wet pussy. While she pumped herself with three fingers and caressed her breast Mr Andrews’ eyes were all she could see.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when Mr Andrews asked Jessie to stay behind after class. All other students ooh-ed and Jessie’s face went crimson. She was sure he could see her shaking as it got closer to the end of the class, could it get any worse than this? She stayed in her seat while the rest of the class filed out of the room, some of them snickering and pointing at Jessie. She felt so humiliated. When the door closed behind the last of her classmates she walked up to Mr Andrews’ desk.
“You wanted to talk with me Mr Andrews?” she said quietly.
“Yes, Jessie,” he turned around and looked down at her from his raised pulpit and Jessie found herself staring right at his crotch. “I’ve been going through Mr Brown’s paperwork and there’s a letter here from Dartmouth, asking to confirm his recommendation.”
Jessie’s heart stopped. Oh no, it couldn’t be, please don’t let there be a problem with her application. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong as such. They say that your excellent academic records are impressive, but they’re concerned about your lack of extra-curricular activities. For the last four years you’ve only listed community service at the retirement village activity centre and two years in the school choir. They’re concerned that you might not fit in at college.”
Jessie wanted the ground to open and swallow her. Her dreams of going to college and becoming a writer were rapidly disappearing before her eyes. “Oh,” she said, quiet as a mouse.
“From what I’ve seen since I started here you’re definitely Dartmouth material and I will let them know that,” Mr Andrews continued. “But you’re not going make it through your first semester at college if you continue being so quiet. At Dartmouth you’ll be attending classes with students who have all been the stars of their English class and you’ll disappear if you don’t start speaking up in class and sharing your views vocally rather than just in excellent essays.”
“I’m sorry,” Jessie mumbled.
“Don’t be sorry to me,” Mr Andrews sounded frustrated with her. “It’s your future that I care about. I want you to show everybody the talent that lies within you. Only those of us who’ve had the pleasure of reading your essays know how intelligent, interesting and wonderful with words you are.”
Jessie looked up at him. He thought she was interesting?
“You’re always looking at me with those intense blue eyes like you have a question for me.” Mr Andrews sounded frustrated. “What is it Jessie? What do you want to ask me?”
“Make love to me, please?”
The room fell silent. Mr Andrews stopped pacing in front of her. Jessie finally realised that she’d said it out loud. Oh no! What had she done? She’d been wrong before. THIS was the worst it could get. With a yelp Jessie turned around and ran out of the classroom and out into the car park where she jumped into her car and drove home. She was happy her grandmother was out as she threw herself on the bed and cried like she hadn’t cried since she’d lost her parents four years earlier. There were still six weeks to go before graduation. How was she going to get through them? Would they let her graduate if she cut school for 6 weeks? Would any other college admit her now that Mr Andrews surely wouldn’t confirm Mr Brown’s recommendation letter?
The next morning Jessie faked an upset stomach and her grandmother called her in sick. She did the same on the Thursday and Friday. Grandma was starting to suspect something, but she decided to give Jessie the benefit of the doubt and hoped she’d get over whatever it was on her own.
On the Friday afternoon Jessie was on her computer, writing a submission for a short story competition when someone knocked on the door. Grandma had gone on a daytrip with other senior citizens and wasn’t due home for another five hours. Jessie got up and went to open the door. She nearly fainted when she saw Mr Andrews.
“We need to talk, Jessie,” he stated and looked over her shoulder. “Is anybody else at home?”
“No, it’s just me.”
“Good. Please let me in.”
Jessie stepped to the side and let Mr Andrews into the house. He walked into the living room and sat on a couch.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee, or a soda?” she asked him, desperately trying to avoid what he’d come here for.
“Nothing thanks,” he said calmly. “Please sit down. You and I have to talk.”
Jessie sat at the other end of the couch, her eyes facing the wall – she didn’t want to look at him.
“Jessica,” Mr Andrews’ voice was soft as he pronounced her full name. “You haven’t been to school since our chat the other day and I’m getting concerned. I’ve spoken with Dartmouth and they’re going to offer you a place now that I’ve confirmed everything Mr Brown said about you.”