It started with cookies believe it or not.

Me, reaching for a bag of Oreos off the top shelf at Winn-Dixie, his hand brushing mine. Our eyes meet, unnecessary apologies given, and an invite to McDonalds for a cup of coffee and a split bag of Oreos. He was a college student, earned his certificate in science. My parents would of killed me if they knew I was with him. But he was charming, and not to mention handsome, and that ruled out all reason. Dark hair, a little long and curling at the ends, bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the florescent lights around us.

He was, it seemed, fascinated by me. If it was anyone else, I would have shrunk away, probably would have snuck off before we left Winn Dixie. But there was something about him. Maybe it was just my stupidity. Either way, I stayed with him and told him I loved music, that I played guitar and wrote my own songs. I told him I only sang by myself, when I felt sad. I told him that a lot of times I drove in my car for hours, going no where just to be alone. I said that on good days I ate peanut butter and banana sandwiches till I was sick. I told him all this before I knew his name.

“It’s Chase Richards.” He said with a laugh. “And yours?”

“Molly, Molly Anderson…I guess we should have done introductions before now.” I said, turning away. I felt my face burn.

He grinned. “Well Molly…can I see you again?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

And see each other we did. He took me every where I never knew I would want to go. To soup kitchens where he helped out often, the back of the college where the seniors had set up a tree filled with empty glass bottles that sparkled in the afternoon, to the pastry shop downtown and helped make cakes in the back. We kissed there for the first time. Covered in icing and flour, we gave each other a quick peck. Nothing spectacular, but I felt like my heart was going to fall out my butt.

I told no one about him. Not even my best friend Lesley. No one. My conscience ate me, but it bit at me more when I was around him. He was a college student, dating a junior, who he thought was older I’m sure. He just never asked my age.

So then, I reasoned. I would never have to tell him.

But summer ends eventually and end it did. I went off back to school, making dates for weekends. On the first day of school I contemplated telling Lesley. She wouldn’t tell a soul. I went into homeroom and took a seat by her in the back row. “Les, I have to tell you something.” I said.

Lesley flipped her dark hair back. “Oh, now you have time for me?

I may have blown her off once or twice this summer.

“It’s about that. Listen, I’m dating-”

I was cut off by the teacher. “Okay class, let’s get started.”

My stomach did a flip. I looked up to the front of the class, and there, standing with a roll call roster, was my homeroom teacher. Mr. Chase Richards himself.