"I'm eighteen," Jean suddenly said, his voice serious for once, and the smug smirk was gone. "I'm not lying this time. I just got my ID this morning. Do you want me to show it to you?" he added, but Shawn didn't answer.
He felt a subtle relief, and he knew where it came from. But immediately he told himself it didn't matter, Jean was still a high school student, and he was still the son of the people who had ruined his life.
For a second, a thought hit him... Since he couldn't reach the people who had ruined his life, a voice rang in his head as he stood there, Jean blocking his way. He could use their son to get back at them.
Maybe this was fate giving him a chance to take justice into his own hands, to avenge himself and everyone else who had died.
He could do terrible things to their son. He could ruin him as much as they had ruined him, make him suffer the same way they had made everyone else suffer, and end him.
But honestly, what would he gain from that?
It wasn't their son who had corrupted his DNA and destroyed him. He needed to think straight.
He was supposed to stay away from his past and avoid revenge, because he knew that if he tried avenging, it would backfire, and he would be the one trapped, and dead.
No matter how much anger he held for those people, he needed to stay away, and the only way right now was to make Jean understand that he wasn't his peer, that he had no interest in whatever teenage games he was playing.
But by now, he already knew that Jean would never listen if he told him to stop following him and to stay away from his place.
And he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe if he hadn't slept with Jean the second, third, and fourth time after clearly asking him not to come over, maybe Jean would take him seriously now when he said he wanted nothing to do with him.
He considered ignoring him, walking away every time, letting him talk to himself until he got tired and left him alone, but that clearly wasn't going to work. Jean was clearly stubborn and determined to have whatever he thought he wanted.
But that didn't mean he was going to entertain him anymore. He walked away again, without a word, only for Jean to step right back into his path.
Suddenly, Shawn shoved him against the wall without thinking, his reflexes and emotions acting without permission. He pressed Jean there with enough force that it might have hurt his spine.
For a moment, Jean looked genuinely terrified, but even then, he spoke. "I know I lied, but what matters is that I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. Why won't you stop pretending we don't have a great time together?"
He paused for a brief second before continuing.
"Okay... fine... Vulnerability isn't really my thing, but since you're forcing me into it, I don't have a choice. Look, you're the only person in the world who knows I'm into guys, and being with you makes me feel lighter, like maybe it isn't such a bad thing that I should be ashamed of or run from. I..." His voice faltered, actually carrying the vulnerability he'd warned about, but Shawn cut him off before he could finish.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Shawn said.
He didn't want to hear any more, because in that moment he realized Jean had a way of getting under his skin, of bending his thoughts, and he wasn't going to allow that. "I don't even know who you are. Oh, wait... I think I know who you are- your teacher just introduced you. The mayor and the governor's son... Jean Green." He forced the words out with the same difficulty he always felt when mentioning those public figures. "Everything else? I don't understand."
Jean looked at him with stubborn disbelief. "Even though I know you're doing this intentionally, pretending, I'm patient enough to remind you... I'm the guy you were in bed with this morni..."
Shawn covered his mouth immediately before he could finish.
If anyone walked in right now or even overheard their conversation, he'd be going to jail, no doubt about it. And he couldn't afford that.
"You've got the wrong guy," Shawn added, pulling his hand back, and lowering his voice. "The last time I was with someone, it wasn't a high school student, it was a working-class guy, more than twenty years old..." He paused, tilting his head slightly as if listening. "Someone's coming. Hide in the stall and wait until they're gone, or you'll get in trouble for being here."
He stepped back, already heading for the door, but Jean's voice still followed him.
"I never get in trouble for anything here even when it's wrong. But I'll hide for you. I just hope you return the favor by stopping the act."
Shawn ignored him and kept walking.
As he moved down the hallway toward the class he was supposed to be in, he couldn't help but wonder how he was going to get Jean Green out of his life for good.
He'd managed to get rid of him for now, but not for long. Not once Jean realized there had been no one coming into the bathroom at all, and stepped right back out.
Shawn got lost on the way before he finally found the 12th-grade classroom. He hesitated for a moment, hand on the door, before pushing it open and stepping inside.
The moment he entered, all eyes turned to him. He walked to the front and stopped by the teacher's desk, bracing himself against it slightly- half seated, half standing. He glanced at his watch, then back at the students watching him with open curiosity.
"What time is this class supposed to end?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"10:30," several voices answered at once, overlapping.
"That means we only have eleven minutes," he said. "Sorry about that. Maybe we can use the remaining time for me to get to know my class and to review whatever you covered in the last lesson, so next time we can actually get things flowing."
The students agreed easily.
"Alright. Starting from that end, say your names, one by one, until we get across."
They began, but even halfway through, Shawn realized he hadn't retained a single name, not even the last one.
Against his will, his thoughts drifted, wondering if Jean was still in the bathroom.
"Okay, thank you," he said, cutting them off once they finished. "So...what do you know about history studies? Or rather, what theme were you covering in the last class?"
Even to him, the question felt clumsy.
Still, the students responded, talking over each other, answering freely all at once.
Their voices blurred together into noise, and he couldn't make out a single clear point.
"I'd prefer you raise your hand if you have something to say," he cut in.
"We don't do that anymore here, Mr. Geller," one male student said, leaning back casually in his seat. "That's for middle school kids."
Shawn's gaze snapped to him, sharp enough to make the boy sit up immediately.
"This is my class," Shawn said evenly, "My class, my rules. So if you have something to say, you raise your hand."
He knew what kind of school this was- students from affluent families, the kind who walked around like they were untouchable, and teachers who feared them instead of the other way around.
Parents with power, who could make a teacher lose their job for trying to help their own children.
He hadn't chosen this school himself. He had only placed himself on the list of history teachers looking for a job, and this was where he had been assigned.
Maybe he should have downplayed his qualifications.
The eleven minutes ended before Jean showed up, and Shawn was about to walk out of the class. But just as he opened the door, Jean was there. He had clearly intended to push the door too, but missed it because Shawn opened it first.
Jean's palm landed directly on Shawn's chest, and stumbled into him. Their bodies collided, and Jean's lips settled near Shawn's neck.
And even though the collision was accidental, Jean seized the moment to slip out his tongue and lick Shawn's neck.
The simple contact sent a heat rushing through Shawn's body instantly. He stepped back immediately, his breath stuttering.
"Sorry, Mr. Geller," Jean said before sliding to the side and entering the class.
"Brat!" Shawn muttered to himself as he walked out of the room.