by T. J. LONG
“How long have you been a teacher?”
“This is actually my first time teaching, so be patient and kind, please,” I say, laughing.
I look at Taylor as she raises her hand. I pray she doesn’t say anything that’ll get either of us in trouble. I hold my breath and nod my head toward her.
“What’s your favorite color?”
I look into her eyes and a calmness takes me over. It’s like it's only us in the room when our eyes connect. I release the breath I was holding and give her a smirk. “It’s amber.” I wonder if she knows I’m referring to her eyes. Then I immediately regret my answer. It’s no longer appropriate.
The bell rings and everyone hops up all at once. I talk quickly to the retreating feet. “I hope you all put your email addresses down on your worksheet today because I will be emailing you a list of books that you need to start reading,” I say, though I can’t tell if they are listening.
When the class is empty, I close my eyes and breathe in a long, deep, calming breath and rub my hands over my face. I think about how Taylor’s eyes stared into my soul, how the connection was otherworldly and instant, and how it’s going to kill me to not see her anymore. I have to end it, right?
It would cause Uncle Bill so much embarrassment if he found out.
As if my thoughts summoned her, I open my eyes to her glum face before me. She’s fidgeting with her fingers and staring at me.
“So, you’re my teacher.”
My eyes close again at the now well-known fact and I rest my arms on my head in a huff. “Looks like it.”
“Well, then, what’s this mean for us?”
She wants answers, and I get it, but right now, I have none. Whatever decision I make, I’m screwed. If we end it, then I miss out on a potential great thing. And if we keep this going, we could both lose everything: my career and her reputation.
“I wish I knew. We’ll have to talk later.” I can’t do this now. I still have six classes to teach and I’m positive I’ll be thinking about Taylor and this fucked up situation for all of them.
A student from my next class walks into the room. I quickly grab a paper from my desk and pretend that I was going over something with her. “Okay, thank you, Taylor, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Her eyes narrow at me as she slowly backs away from my desk. She nods her head in accordance with my ploy, sticking her tongue into her cheek.
“Thanks, Mr. Bailey,” she says as she turns fast on her heels.
I hate that she looks upset, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m her teacher. My eyes close tight and I wish this was a nightmare I could wake from.
Taylor
I turn and head out of the room, making sure not to make eye contact with the student that came in behind me. Surely my face will give away my true feelings. I feel sick with embarrassment that I had to go along with the scheme. Having to pretend that I was a student needing to talk to him left me feeling off. The enormousness of what this means for us crushes me. I’ve just found him; I don’t want to lose him now.
Tears prick my eyes and they try to escape, but I fight them back until my throat burns. I don’t want anyone to see me cry.
I make it to the bathroom without being noticed, find the biggest stall, and plop onto the cold linoleum floor in a huff and allow the emotions to take me. My brain bullies me into thinking about all the terrible things that could come from this relationship, if we carry it on... if he even wants to.
I could be expelled if anyone found out. Josh would lose his job and never be allowed to teach again. I can’t let that happen, and God, what would my parents do if they found out? Yes, I’m eighteen, but I still live in their house, under their rules. I don’t know how’d they’d react to me dating a teacher, but I imagine it wouldn’t be good.
I try to take long, calming breaths, but it just makes me feel tingly.
Shit, I’m about to have a panic attack. I take my phone from my bag and text Ann. Hopefully she reads my text, and fast, because dammit I need her right now.
Slow breaths in and out, I tell myself.
A few minutes have passed when I finally hear the bathroom door open and in a hushed tone, “Tay, are you in here?”
I jump to my feet and open the stall door. Ann sees my tear-streaked face and runs to me.
“Oh, my gosh what’s wrong? Did one of the guys say something stupid to you?”
I shake my head. The tears had subsided, but seeing Ann, knowing I’ll have to tell her about Josh, makes the flood gates open again. Tears steam my already streaked cheeks as I try, but fail, to explain what’s going on.
I try to calm myself down by regulating my breath. She can't understand anything I’m saying. I'm a blubbering mess. She takes my hand and leads me back to my spot on the floor and we sit.
“It’s Josh.” I meet her eyes.
“What about him, sweetie?”
“He’s the new Lit teacher.”
Her face goes flat, and she looks in shock, but she’s still rubbing my arm to console me. See, this is why I needed her. She may be freaking out internally, but Ann knows how to calm me.
“Oh..” She shakes her head up and down. “Okay… okay, that’s okay!” She meets my eyes. “It’s fine. No one knows about you two except me. If you’re careful, then no one will ever know.”
“But if someone finds out, he’ll lose his job and I’ll get kicked out of the school. My parents will flip, Ann. I don’t know if he even wants to be with me now.” I drop my head into my hands. “He said we would talk later.” What if he wants nothing to do with me now? I would have to understand, but dammit, I like him so much.
“I know it's hard, but you need to relax. You're eighteen. Technically, it's not illegal; it's just probably frowned upon. But I am sure he would lose his job if it came to light, so you just need to be careful. As far as your parents go, I don’t think they’d be as mad as you think. They are very cool parents.” She rubs my arm, smiling at me.
When the bell rings, Ann momentarily leaves to run back to class and grab her belongings. My lids are swollen and my face is blotchy. This is why I hate crying; I look like a freaking frog.
I open the stall door and walk to the sink to splash cold water on my face. It helps a little with the puffiness, and when Ann returns, she pulls out her makeup bag and soon I’m back to looking close to my normal self.
When the lunch bell rings, Ann and I meet up and eat in the garden. It’s the quietest spot on campus, so we can talk freely without worrying we’ll be overhead. I decide, with Ann’s help, that it makes no sense to freak out further until Josh and I speak later. He could very well decide to keep seeing me in secret. And although that would be hard to stomach, being a secret, it would be better than nothing. Things have to work out. They just have to. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself as the rest of the school day passes.
***
When I get home, I make a b-line for my room. I undress quickly after tossing my bag down. I want to get out of these clothes. Who knows what germs are lingering on me from sitting on the bathroom floor.
My eyes close as I flop onto my bed. There’s a heaviness in my chest that crushes me. It’s hard when you know what you want but you feel like you can no longer have it. I want nothing more than to be with Josh and find a way to make this work, but the unknown of what could happen and who may find out makes it very scary. Before him, my life was filled with drama and feeling undesired. Since I’ve known him, he’s made me feel what I’ve been wanting to feel: wanted, cared for, treasured.
I pull my blanket over me, grab my phone, and go directly to my texts.
Me: Can I come by so we can talk?
Mr. Grey: I think that’s a good idea. I’m not home yet. I’ll be there in about 25 minutes.
Taylor: Okay, see you then.
I debate the next five minutes while laying in bed if I should fight the fear that's been building all day. Knowing what could happen if we were to get caught is scary, but n
ot having Josh in my life, never seeing his smiling face, never feeling his hands on again me. I don't think I can do that either.
Kicking the blanket with my feet, I hop from the bed and walk swiftly to the closet. “What say’s I can keep a secret and I’m old enough for you.” I settle on a tight black dress, one that is almost identical to the one I wore when we had our first kiss.
I brush my teeth after I put on a small amount of makeup and decide, after trying three different styles, to leave my hair down. I was once told guys love when girls wear their hair down, so I am testing that theory tonight. I look at myself in the mirror. I look mature but also sexy. Exactly what I was going for.
I jog down the stairs and sit at the kitchen table, waiting for the last few minutes to tick away. I nibble my lip as I think about the different ways this could play out. Will he say it’s not a big deal and we can keep going in secret? Or will he say it’s been nice to know me and kick me out on my ass?
I look down to see I have been picking at my cuticles and my frustration over finding no answers has drawn blood. “Wonderful!” I say in an exasperated breath. I get up from the wooden chair and dab the blood away with a paper towel as my phone chimes with a text.
Mr. Grey: I’m home if you want to come by.
Taylor: K. See you soon.
Nerves shoot through me as I walk out of my yard and into his. I take a deep, calming breath and walk to his door. He opens the door sans shirt, and wow, what a body. All I see are chiseled abs that I’d like to trace with my tongue and drawstring shorts hanging low enough on his hips to reveal the sexy V-shape that I fawned over when he sent me the picture of himself in bed.
I blink and slowly lift my gaze. He smiles down to me, and when I see his smile, it makes the anxiety I was harbouring drift away with the wind. I smile as he pulls me in to him for a hug. My eyes close when his body makes contact with mine. I can’t help but moan into his hard shirtless body as it’s pressed against me. I can feel every chiseled inch of him. He smells amazing, like the faint scent of an Abercrombie and Fitch store, which is becoming the familiar scent of him.
“Come in,” he says as he pulls me into his house while still holding me in his arms.
I let out a sigh of relief. I had no clue what I was coming over to, but I can only assume that he wants to keep this thing going. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been met with a hug, right?
He lets me go, walks to the fridge, and pulls the door open. “Do you want a drink?”
“What, like an alcoholic beverage?” I joke.
He gives me a look and I realize it is definitely too early for those kinds of jokes.
“No, you’re not old enough are you?”
Touché.
“I never lied about my age, Josh.”
He looks at the beer bottle in his hand and fingers the label, a far off look in his eyes. “I know, I just don’t know how it didn’t come up.”
I turn my back and lean against the counter, arms crossed over my chest. Maybe this isn’t going to go how I had hoped.
“Do you want a soda or water before we talk?”
I shake my head, the corners of my mouth dropping with every second I stand here. He walks over to me and grabs my hand; it takes me by surprise and gives me a small flicker of hope. Too bad it’s fleeting, because when he leads me to the couch, he lets my hand go, choosing to sit at the opposite end as me. I don’t know if my face is showing how confused I am, but I feel like I’m drowning in his mixed signals. Hugging, hand holding, and then distance.
I take a deep breath, attempting to mentally prepare myself for this to end. I like him a lot, possibly more than like. But I won’t have a say in the matter if he decides being with me is too risky. As bad as I’d like to be selfish and just think about what I want, I know I can’t. He could lose his career if anyone found out about us.
“So…” I say to break the awkward silence. He’s still staring at his beer bottle, completely checked out. Earth to Josh. “What do you think we should do?” I came here for answers and I need to know what he thinks.
His free hand raises to his hair, and he brushes the freshly washed strands from his forehead. His eyes meet mine, finally. “I like you, a lot… I just don’t know if it's the wisest decision to be together right now.”
My eyes close and I gulp. I knew this was going to happen. I try to calm the butterflies that have begun fluttering in my stomach. “I know,” I say, though I’d really like to tell him that no one would ever have to find out about us. I don’t really talk to anyone besides Ann, whom I trust with all of my deepest, darkest secrets, so who would I tell?
He is safe with me, but I can’t force him. I won’t do that. I care too much about him.
My heart is beating fast in my chest. Everything feels so final. I fight the urge to scoot closer to him so I can feel him and kiss him one last time. Get one last taste of my forbidden teacher. But I can’t stomach that right now. I want to flee to my room where I can be alone and cry until I dehydrate.
“So then this is it?” I need to hear this is the end from his mouth. That he doesn’t want us to be an “us” anymore.
Avoiding eye contact with me, he nods his head up a down. Well, that’s my signal. I rise from the brown leather sofa, grasping my hands together, my head nodding at his response.
This is it; I can’t believe it.
I choke down the sickness rising in my throat. My eyes feel filled to the brim with tears. I know, as soon as I get home, I can let down the floodgates, but I can’t let him see me cry again.
I take a step forward, but my cloudy eyes betray me, and I trip on his rug and fall hard onto my knees. It causes the tears that I’d been holding onto to fall.
“Are you okay?” He’s by my side faster than I’ve seen anyone move. I know he’s talking about the fall, but that pain is nothing compared to the hurt that is radiating through my chest.
My eyes shut and my shoulders fall. “I’m fine.”
Don’t cry, I will myself. I rub my red knee and pretend that the tears that are escaping are from the pain of my injury and not from the guy who unknowingly is ripping out my heart.
I know from experience that hurt has an expiration date. I won’t feel this brokenness forever. Even though it feels like the most monumental kick in the heart, I know I’ll be fine. I always am.
The hard part will be seeing him every day in school. That thought didn’t cross my mind until now. Damn.
He puts his hand on my bare knee and rubs. The searing heat from his hand burns me. I need to get away from him. His comfort only hurts. I pull my leg away from his grasp and make like I’m going to stand.
He pulls me into his lap and holds me tight against his chest. His solid arms squeeze me like he never wants to let me go. My wet eyelashes flicker on his bare chest. I watch as the tears slowly fall down his stomach. They roll up and down the hills of his abs and disappear into the fabric of his shorts.
I push away from him, because why stay? Why make us torture ourselves? I can go home and cry in bed with ice cream and an 80’s horror flick. No romantic comedies for me. Real life just crushes you. My parents are a fluke. Happily ever afters aren’t real. They’re just made up stories that give people false hope. It’s all a lie, but everybody loves a lie.
“Wait.” He reaches for my arm. "Please, don’t leave.”
“Josh, we can’t do this,” I whisper to him.
“I… just… I don’t know.” He frustratedly pulls at his hair.
I feel like I need to remind him of who he is to me now. I came with the intent to carry on, but he could lose everything and I can't let that happen. “You’re my teacher. You’re right… this,” I point to him and then to myself, “we can’t happen.”
Uttering those words is the death of me.
Our eyes meet, and he looks like he may cry, too.
“I’m going to go.” I say it matter-of-factly. My insides are shattering, but I refuse to show it.
“Why does thi
s seem easy for you?” he yells.
My mouth falls open, my back still to him. “Easy for me?” I turn to him, eyes burning with unshed tears that I am failing miserably to contain.
“Yeah, easy. You’re not arguing or fighting… you’re just... giving up.”
My heart is beating so fast I can feel the blood rushing through my ears. How dare he assume that. I take a good look at him, staring into his eyes as mine are welling, yet again. “How could you think this is easy for me? It’s not my place to fight or argue with you. You are the one who could lose everything. How do you think I’d feel if I was the cause of you losing your career, your livelihood, Josh? Do you know how guilty I’d feel? I feel so much for you. The moment I saw you step out of that car, I felt my heart skip a beat.”
The tears start to stream down my cheeks. The sound of them hitting the hardwood floors is like a hammer hitting a nail—they are so heavy with emotion.
“When you caught me peeking into your house.” I cry-laugh at the memory. “When you grabbed my hand, I swear I felt an electric charge run through my body. I went home after that and wondered if this was something special—that kind of crazy, unexpected connection you only hear about in movies. I knew it was more than a simple crush when you held me that night after the party. You kissed me and made me feel wanted and seen.”
My head shakes with hurt, and confusion. I say the next part with my head hung low, breaking apart in his living room. “This isn’t easy for me. It’s fucking breaking me to walk away from you.”
I turn away from him and start for the door. If I do anymore talking, I’ll be in hysterics and that won’t be a good look. Not that the snot face that I have right now is any better. My fingers grasp at the knob when strong hands grab me and I’m tossed over shoulders. My hair falls over me like a blanket.
Joshua
Everything she just said is everything I’ve been feeling but have been too scared to believe. That this really could be love. I tried to keep those swirling thoughts at bay because I thought I was crazy for feeling that way so soon, but dammit this has to be real. She felt the electricity too. I sweep her into my arms and over my shoulder.