CH14

Azalea's heart skipped a beat when she saw Jackson sitting on her bed, his posture tense and his leg bouncing rapidly. His eyes snapped to her as soon as she entered, and for a brief moment, she could see a flash of relief pass over his face.

Before she could say anything, he was already standing, his voice rushing to meet her.

"Azie—"

She cut him off before he could get any further.

"Don't talk to me," Azalea's voice was sharp, the words heavy with frustration and hurt.

Jackson flinched, his face falling in an instant. He opened his mouth to speak, but she was already walking further into the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Azie, I'm sorry." His voice was full of urgency, like he needed to get it all out before she shut him down completely. "I don't know why I did that. It was stupid, it was petty." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... everything between us was good until the kiss. Then, after it happened, you started pulling away and I didn't know why. I wanted to talk about it, but then I saw you laughing with Tony, and that fucking slug—"

Azalea's blood boiled at the mention of Tony's name. She shot him a cold glare, her hands clenched into fists by her sides.

"Jackson, you don't get it," she said, her voice quieter now but filled with frustration. "You think just because we kissed, everything's supposed to be perfect? You think I'm supposed to just act like nothing happened? Like I'm not hurt by what I saw? That you... did that with Megan?"

Her words hit him like a slap to the face. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. Azalea could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes, and for a split second, she almost felt bad for him. But then she remembered what he had done, and that feeling quickly disappeared.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "One minute you're here, apologizing, and the next you're doing... that. I just—" She stopped herself, not sure what to say anymore.

Jackson stood there, silent, his chest tight with regret. He wanted to apologize again, to make it right somehow, but he knew he had messed up—big time.

Azalea cut through his rambling with a dry laugh. "So you had sex with Megan because I was making friends? Grow the hell up, Jackson." Azalea went over to her drawer and he grabbed her by the wrist.

Azalea's body tensed, her anger flaring as she shoved him away. The force of the push caught him off guard, but he didn't fight back.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me," she gritted out, her words laced with venom.

Jackson froze, his heart sinking as he noticed the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. His stomach churned as he realized just how badly he had hurt her. She turned away from him, trying desperately to stop the tears, but they fell anyway. He could hear her choking back sobs, the sound breaking through his chest.

"Azie... I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

She didn't acknowledge him, her back turned to him as she fought to regain control of herself. Jackson felt helpless, watching her try to keep it together, knowing that he was the reason she was breaking apart.

"Please," he added softly, his voice pleading now. "Let's talk about it. About us."

Azalea spun around so fast that it caught him off guard, her face flushed with anger and frustration. "There is no us!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "We were never together. And who cares if I probably had feelings for you, right? Because at the end of the day, we were just friends. Nothing more."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was right. They had never officially been anything more than that—just friends. But somehow, over time, he had convinced himself it could be more. Now, standing in front of her, he realized just how messed up that thinking was.

Jackson's heart sank deeper as the reality of the situation hit him. He had pushed her too far. He had crossed a line that he shouldn't have, and now, there was no turning back.

Azie inhaled sharply and wiped her tears. She grabbed her shower bag and made her way to leave before she stopped.

"And you made that pretty clear last night. I hope you're happy." And with that she left.

Jackson kicked the bed and cussed.

"Fuck!" He knows he's got to make it up to her. But first he's got to deal with Megan.

Thompson placed his book down with a soft sigh, his eyes scanning the empty classroom. His thoughts kept drifting back to the near kiss he almost shared with Azalea earlier that day, the memory lingering in his mind like a pull he couldn't quite shake off. But that wasn't the only thing on his mind.

He couldn't stop wondering who it was that had made her cry. Jackson, maybe? It was a difficult thought to entertain, especially considering the way Jackson had looked at her earlier. Thompson tried to push the thought away, but it refused to leave. He couldn't figure out what was going on with them, but the whole situation felt off.

"Knock knock."

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced up, expecting to see a student or maybe a colleague, but the sight of Azalea standing in the doorway caught him off guard.

She wore a sunflower dress that fluttered just above her knees, flip-flops with the faintest scuff marks, and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that bounced lightly with each step. Her bag hung casually over one shoulder, the very image of someone who wasn't in a rush.

Thompson blinked, unsure if he was imagining things. But then, she smiled—her smile, the kind that could light up any room, and he was left momentarily speechless.

"A—Ms. Moore," he stammered, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Azalea walked further into the room, her steps measured, purposeful. She stopped right in front of his desk, looking as calm and collected as ever despite the obvious weight of whatever had been bothering her earlier. Thompson didn't know whether to be relieved or more confused by her presence.

"Professor."

"Can I...help you?"

"It's Thursday, I have your class twice throughout the week." She informs. Thompson leant forward and searched through a few papers before he located his schedule.

He went to Thursday. "Yup, Thursday at four." The man chuckled and set the paper down. "I knew I had a class later on, but it slipped my mind, my apologies."

"That's fine. I just wanted to thank you again for earlier."

He chuckle lightly. "Like I said, I care about my students. Your safety matters."

She nods and someone walked in, barely paying attention to them.

"Guess class is starting. By the way, I know there are a lot of things going on with you but, you still have to send in your assignments."

Azalea let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through her hair, cursing under her breath. With everything that had been going on with Jackson, she'd completely forgotten about her Chem test and the work she still needed to finish.

"Fuck," she muttered, her frustration mounting. She quickly walked over to one of the empty desks and threw herself into the seat, pulling her laptop and binder out in a rush. Her fingers fumbled with the papers as she tried to organize her thoughts, feeling the pressure of the impending deadline.

Thompson couldn't help but smirk at her sudden outburst, though he didn't say anything. He watched her for a moment as she worked, his expression softening. There was something about her—her drive, her determination even when things seemed to be falling apart—that intrigued him.

As more students trickled into the room, he greeted each one with a simple smile and a nod. His attention shifted back to Azalea for a brief second, but he quickly pulled himself together when he realized the rest of the class was now settled.

Standing to his feet, he cleared his throat and walked to the front of the room. It was time to start class.

"Oh thank God." He heard. His eyes met her for a moment and Azalea is composing herself. Thompson smiled and turned to the board.

"Since I had forgotten about class today, lets revise the first topic through hangman."

There was a snort. "Hangman?"

"Yes Mr. White, hangman," he answers without looking back.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I have good memory. Now, winner gets an A for today's class."

"B!"

Thompson grinned and glanced back. His eyes met another female student of his by the name of Hailey.

"I think I'll choose a different word, wouldn't want to give out free A's so easily."

"That's so unfair," the girl voices, causing Thompson to smile.

Thompson erased the twenty letter word and sum it down to fifteen.

"Okay, it's two separate words that makeup one and this is in its scientific form. Go."

Students began to call out their answer and what they think each letter could be in the word and it went on for about ten minutes before somebody got the answer.

"Corylus avellana," Azalea answers.

"That's correct." He motions to her. "Good job."

"The fuck is a Corylus avellana?" White mumbles in disappointment.

"Language, and-

"It's the scientific form of the spice...hazel." She finishes for him. The both of them held each other's gaze with a small smile.

"Uh, yeah. The spice hazel, as you all call it, is called Corylus avellana," he explains, filling in the rest of the blanks with the letters.

"Well that was boring, and why are we learning science in AE?" Hailey questions with a pout. Thompson chuckled lightly, again his eyes drifting to Azalea's.

"Just a little fun activity to ease whatever stress you all had. Everybody needs a break sometimes. Class dismissed."

Upon hearing that everyone gathered their things and left in a mob wave. Azalea got up from her seat after she packed her things together and Thompson watched her.

"Hopefully you use the rest of your day to complete your assignments." He speaks, however, the statement sounded more like a question.

Azalea chuckled and exhaled a breath, clutching her binder close to her.

"I will, if not I'll have to stay back a year and I do not want that."

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Azalea."

Azalea paused, casting a quick glance around the room to make sure no one else was listening before she replied softly, "You too..." She hesitated, but the quiet of the room gave her a strange sense of boldness. Turning back to face him, she leaned in just slightly and whispered, "Maddox."

The moment hung in the air before she swiftly turned on her heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Thompson standing there in stunned silence. As the door clicked shut behind her, he bit

his bottom lip, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was hard to stop himself from smiling.

Student or not, he couldn't deny it.

He liked her.