Helping Brielle pt. 1

Chapter 1

The bell rang and I gathered my belongings together, shut out the light and locked up my room. It was finally 2:30 on a Friday and I was very much looking forward to a weekend of relaxation. Those are quite rare in my field, and I tend to take full advantage of them whenever I can. My name is Michael Jordan…yes, the same name as the basketball star, but no… I’m shorter, stocky, white, and the only basketball skill I possess is doing decently well in our school’s March Madness pool. Although, I’ve joked with ex girlfriends telling them they can tell their friends they’re “dating Michael Jordan” just to get a few laughs. I’m the high school band teacher in a relatively urban area of the northeast. I mentioned before that I’m “shorter” and “stocky,” well; I stand 5’8” and weigh about 220 lbs. I suppose I look like your typical teacher type of guy in his mid 30’s.

As I walk down the stairs and out to my car, I’m met by a staggered chorus of “goodbyes,” and “have a nice weekend.” I respond back to each student who takes the time to greet me. I’m fairly well liked among my students, as I should hope to be considering how much time I end up spending with them. On a normal week I see them during school, after school for practice, and on the weekend for additional practices and competitions. So this rare two days of freedom will be nice, but I did not know just how nice it would become.

I had no sooner gotten home than I received a text from one of my students. Yes, we text, but its only ever about school related information as a way to better coordinate our crazy schedule. But this text was different.

“Mr. Jordan…My parents locked me out, and they won’t let me in the house. I don’t know what to do. Help me!”

I need to explain a bit. As I said, I teach in an urban area, and most of the students have lousy home lives. I often find them coming to me for advice, for help with other subjects, and occasionally just to hear a comforting voice tell them that everything is going to be ok. I text back, “Just take a deep breath, Brielle. Did they tell you why they locked you out?”

“I didn’t get home before 3” she responded, then continued, “They said I might as well find somewhere else to go this weekend, but I don’t have anywhere to go.”

I took a deep breath and thought about what to do. Brielle is one of my best seniors. She’s a very sweet girl, and I won’t lie…I’ve found myself looking at her and undressing her with my eyes at times, and fantasizing about the things I’d love to do to her. She’s about 5’4” wavy brown hair just below shoulder length, deep brown eyes, and a smile that would like up the room. She’s got a nice body too, not what you’d except from a Latina girl, rather she only has a slight curve to her waist and hips, flat stomach, small ass and tits that couldn’t possibly be bigger than an A cup in a push-up, which is just what I like. I certainly didn’t want her on the streets for the whole weekend. Who knows what would happen to her… I decided to call her

“Hello?” she answered, clearly sobbing.

“Brielle, its Mr. Jordan. Are you ok?”

“No… I …. Have… no where to go….” She replied between sniffles.

I exhaled deeply, debating my next move, but I decided to say fuck it and cross a line I knew I shouldn’t.

“Brielle, do you have any money on you, and can you walk to the train station in town?”

“Yeah…I have $18 and I can…why?”

Here goes, I thought.

“I want you to go to the train station and get on the next train to Ridgecrest. I’ll meet you when you get there.”

“Really?” she said sounding a bit shocked

“Yes. I’m going to look after you this weekend so you’re not alone on the streets.”

“Oh, thank you!! Thank you Mr. Jordan! I’ll call you when I’m two stops away”

**click.**

I put my phone down and quickly cleaned up my apartment. I grabbed a pillow and a blanket and put them by the couch. I got an old T-shirt and gym shorts from my dresser so that she would have clothes to change into, and I made sure the place was at least sort of presentable.

I took a deep breath and realized that I was going to have a sexy teenager in my house with me…alone…just the two of us…all weekend. The thoughts started racing through my head. Dirty, naughty things I knew I shouldn’t think….but I couldn’t help myself. I lived an hour from the school where I teach, and very few other people live nearby who work there….the chances of anyone seeing the two of us would be slim to none. Which is good, because despite my perverted thoughts, I WAS trying to do the right thing in helping her.

I made sure everything was fine and then I waited for her call.

Chapter 2

I must have dozed off because I awoke to the buzzing of my phone. I answered:

“Mr. Jordan? Are you there? I’ve been calling you for almost an hour! Its pouring rain. Are you coming to get me?”

Shit! I thought immediately

“Yeah, Brielle. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep! I’m on my way right now!”

Sure enough, she had called me over 15 times!