A faint buzz filled the classroom. Most of the students were taking notes, some were quietly following the lesson, while others had mentally drifted off into other worlds. No one, however, could completely ignore their teacher, Isabella Moreau. Known as the most popular teacher at the school, she was a woman in her late twenties with an elegant yet striking presence. Her light-colored, form-fitting outfit perfectly hugged her slender waist, and her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, giving her the aura of a classic movie star. Her gold bracelet caught the light with every subtle movement of her hand, and the shadow of her long lashes deepened the intensity of her gaze.
Tom seemed to be staring at his notebook, but his mind was in turmoil. His thoughts were far from the lesson, scattering in different directions. The unease inside him had been growing lately - his father's absence, the exhaustion in his mother's eyes, Scharline's distant demeanor... It all felt overwhelming. Every day he felt more lost. Once he had no trouble concentrating in class, but now everything felt like looking through a steamed-up window.
Next to him, Derek Lawson was busy with his cell phone. He was the complete opposite of Tom - carefree, indifferent to rules, dismissive of lessons, yet dangerously experienced and reckless with women. With his arms resting on the desk, he smiled as he scrolled through his phone's screen. Curious, Tom glanced sideways to see what had caught Derek's attention.
It was then that he realized Derek was taking pictures of Isabella Moreau. Tom narrowed his eyes and turned to him. "What are you doing?" he asked in a low voice.
Derek grinned slightly and casually placed his phone on the desk before winking at Tom. "Making money, my friend," he said. "These are valuable things. You know, some people are willing to pay a fortune for a beautiful woman."
Tom frowned. "You're selling these?"
Derek shrugged, showing no sign of guilt or hesitation. "What did you think? A free hobby? It's supply and demand. I'm not hurting anyone. I just... give people what they want to see."
Tom hesitated for a moment. At the front of the classroom, Isabella Moreau was writing on the board, completely unaware. What would this mean to someone like her? What if she knew? What if someone was actually using these photos to hurt her? An uneasy feeling settled in Tom's chest, but what bothered him more was how effortlessly Derek justified it.
Sensing Tom's thoughts, Derek leaned forward. "What? You think it's wrong?"
Choosing his words carefully, Tom replied, "I think it's disgusting. She's our teacher."
Derek laughed. "She's our teacher, yes... But she's also a woman. And let's face it, no one comes to this class just to learn math."
A strange uneasiness stirred inside Tom. School had once been nothing more to him than a place of lessons and grades. But now, because of people like Derek, everything seemed to take on a different perspective.
Was he changing too?
At the front of the class, Isabella Moreau continued her lesson, her soft voice filling the room. But Tom's mind remained tangled in its own thoughts, fighting within itself. Was Derek's world tempting him, or should he hold on to what he once believed to be right? It was then that the first cracks began to form inside Tom.
The time in the classroom dragged on. Tom tried to shake off the lingering echoes of Derek's words, but his mind was a battleground of conflicting thoughts. Life had become a whirlpool he couldn't escape, and school no longer felt like a sanctuary. He twirled his pen absentmindedly between his fingers, his eyes fixed on the blackboard as his mind wandered elsewhere.
Then Isabella Moreau's voice suddenly brought him back to reality. "Mr. Godwoods?"
Tom's shoulders stiffened. He glanced down at his notebook, trying to make sense of what was happening, but everything was a blur. Isabella's voice carried a slightly authoritative tone, but there was a hint of warmth underneath. "Would you like to share your thoughts on the matter?"
A short silence fell over the class. Derek chuckled softly, casting an amused glance at Tom, clearly enjoying the moment. Tom swallowed and turned to face Isabella, but his mind was still blank. He had to say something - anything.
Isabella's long lashes fluttered slightly as she narrowed her eyes. A subtle smile played at the corners of her lips, more patient curiosity than amusement. Her graceful yet commanding presence made Tom feel a slight pressure in his chest.
"Your lack of focus has been quite noticeable lately, Tom," Isabella said, setting her pen down on the desk. "Is there something on your mind?"
Tom struggled for the right words. Isabella Moreau was a woman who wore both elegance and allure effortlessly. Standing at the front of the classroom, her light-colored outfit blended perfectly with the softness of her skin. The way it fit snugly around her waist, the delicate slope of her shoulders, the elegance in her hand movements - her beauty wasn't just seen, it was felt.
"No, ma'am. I'm just a little distracted," Tom finally said, trying to ease the lump in his throat.
Isabella studied him for a few more seconds, then nodded slightly, offering a faint smile. But somehow that smile only made Tom feel more insecure.
"Very well," she said. "But if this distraction continues, we need to have a talk after class."
Tom nodded, but his mind wasn't on her words - it was on the way she said them, the way her presence filled the room.
As the class ended, the students began to pack up. Derek smiled and clapped a hand on Tom's shoulder. "I can't wait to see how your little 'detention' goes," he teased.
Tom shot him an annoyed look before grabbing his bag and walking over to Isabella. She was at her desk, flipping through her class notes. As he approached, he noticed the way her fingers moved delicately across the pages. When she finally put down her pen and looked up, Tom momentarily forgot how to breathe.
Her scent - a subtle perfume that mingled with the warmth of her skin - hung in the air. Up close, her complexion was almost flawless. For a fleeting moment, Tom felt like he was drowning in the depth of her gaze.
"Tom," Isabella began, her voice soft but inquisitive. "Your lack of focus has become increasingly apparent of late. I want to know what's going on."
Tom hesitated. What could he say? That he was overwhelmed by his father's absence, his mother's silent suffering, the toxic influence of people like Derek? That he felt drawn into a world he didn't understand?
Worst of all, his mind wasn't on her words - it was caught up in the way she spoke them. In the rhythm of her breath. In the quiet intimacy of being so close to her.
His gaze involuntarily drifted to the delicate chain around Isabella's neck. A small pendant rested just above her breast, rising and falling slightly with each breath. Even from this distance, he could see the faint trembling of her eyelashes as she watched him closely. Was that... wrong?
"My thoughts are a bit confused, ma'am," Tom finally said.
Isabella tilted her head slightly, watching him. Her eyes seemed to understand that he was hiding something, but there was no trace of judgment on her face.
"Then I think we should talk some more," she said with a faint smile. "Come to my place for lunch tomorrow and we'll go over this in more detail."
Tom cleared his throat and nodded. As Isabella gathered her notebooks, her arm brushed lightly against Tom's hand for a second.
But for Tom, time seemed to freeze. At that moment, he felt the warmth of her skin.
As he left the classroom, his heartbeat quickened. The feeling he experienced in Isabella Moreau's presence was proof that the change within him had already begun.
Tom and Derek's Conversation - Money, Crime, and Tempting Ideas
Tom walked on, trying to ignore Derek's shameless laughter. He wasn't sure if the uneasiness growing inside him was from his thoughts about Isabella Moreau or the cruel game Derek was playing. But he could feel a knot forming in his mind.
After a while, he took a deep breath, tried to change the subject and asked, "So, about this whole selling photos thing... Do you actually do it?"
Derek grinned, an amused gleam in his eyes.
"Of course I am, man. Money doesn't come easy, you know that."
Tom frowned. "But it's not right. How do you think these people would feel if they knew?"
Derek shrugged, his tone indifferent.
"They don't know. And they never will. Besides, do you really think I'm the only one doing this? Go on the Internet, look around. It happens everywhere. People pay for what they want to see. Simple business."
Tom was still trying to make sense of it. "Isn't that... some kind of crime?"
Derek laughed. "Dude, you're too innocent. Isn't everything in life a bit of a crime? Besides, if you knew how much I make, you'd lose your mind."
Tom instinctively turned to him. "How much?"
Derek shoved his hands into his pockets and swayed on his heels with pride.
"Five hundred dollars a month."
Tom's eyes widened. "What?!"
Derek grinned, enjoying the reaction. "Yeah, man, you heard me. Five hundred. Sometimes more. Better photos fetch more. It's all about quality. If you get something really good, the price goes up."
Tom looked at the money in his pocket. Ten dollars.
He'd been in class all day, and when he got home he'd probably eat, study a little, and go to sleep. But Derek... Derek made easy money.
And five hundred dollars... That was more than Tom could ever imagine.
ever imagined having.
For a brief moment he felt ashamed of the dirty thought that crossed his mind. I would never do such a thing, he told himself. But the fact that Derek was making so much money had an undeniable appeal.
"Look, man," Derek said, sensing Tom's inner conflict. "This is how life works. Those with money win. Those without? They just watch. If you ever want to see how the real world works, let me know."
Then he patted Tom on the shoulder with a quick chuckle and said, "Take care, Tom," before disappearing around the corner.
Tom stood there for a while, clutching the ten-dollar bill in his palm. Derek's words echoed in his head: "Those with money win. Those without just watch."
Carolina and forbidden thoughts
As Tom walked home, a disturbing image came to mind. His mind drifted back to that night. Carolina. He had lived with her for years, always thinking of her as his mother. But that night was the first time he saw her as a woman. He knew he shouldn't think about it, but he did. Every detail echoed in his mind over and over again. The more he tried to push it away, the clearer it became.
Carolina was alone in the living room that night. Tom went to the kitchen to get something, but stopped to watch her. She was wearing a light nightgown, the fabric clinging delicately to her body, her shoulders bare. At that moment, Tom noticed things he had never seen before. Carolina raised a hand to her neck and brushed her hair back. She always did that, but tonight she looked different - softer, yet dangerous. His eyes lingered on her body and he was afraid of his own thoughts. Why had he seen her as a woman, even for a second? Tom tried to silence his mind, but the thought spread through him like poison. The worst part was to know that there was no way back from this feeling.
Tom's Inner Chaos - Unshakable Thoughts and a Forbidden Question
Tom kept walking, trying to outrun his thoughts, but it was useless. He couldn't escape these thoughts. They seeped into him like a slow poison, becoming clearer with every breath. After some aimless wandering, he sat down on a bench. Breathing was difficult. The cold air filled his lungs, but it did nothing to clear the fog in his mind. Carolina. He had to stop thinking about her, but he couldn't.
That night... If he hadn't seen her like that, would these thoughts exist? Had these feelings been buried deep inside him all along? Or had he just caught the wrong image at the wrong time? The worst part was knowing that it wasn't just the wrong image. The moment he saw her as a woman, something changed. He closed his eyes and remembered how the thin fabric of Carolina's nightgown clung to her body, how she tucked her hair behind her ear, how she wasn't just a mother - she was a beautiful woman.
These thoughts unsettled him, but they also awakened something else. He shook his head, trying to quiet his mind. Stop thinking. But stopping was as impossible as holding one's breath forever. And as if his mind wasn't troubled enough, another thought entered his head. Derek.
"Five hundred dollars a month." Tom's stomach tightened. He thought about the ten dollars in his pocket. His family was struggling. Carolina did what she could to keep things together, but Tom knew the truth. Bills, expenses, the tightening economy... He noticed the exhaustion on Carolina's face. Tom dropped his head and clenched his fists. He needed money. But how could he get it? When the answer finally came to him, it wasn't the thought itself that disturbed him the most, but how quickly he got used to it. I can't do this. I never could. But Derek's voice echoed in his head again. "Those with money win. Those without just watch." And so far, Tom had always been the one watching. He took a deep breath, as if to shake off his thoughts, and lifted his head. He had to go home. But he didn't want to face his mother like this. It felt like he had committed a crime. Even though he wasn't guilty, he felt guilty.
When he looked into her eyes, he was afraid that Carolina could read his thoughts. What if she remembered that night? What if she noticed the change in his gaze?
He stayed a little longer, making excuses not to go home, but he knew he couldn't escape. Eventually, he would have to return. Another thought lingered in his mind, more dangerous than anything else: Carolina had been alone for years. As this thought echoed in his head, his legs trembled. He didn't know why he thought that, or maybe he did, but he refused to admit it to himself.
At that moment, he stood up. With questions swirling in his head, feelings he struggled to suppress, and shadows clinging to his thoughts as he walked home, Tom knew he was stepping into something he could never undo.
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