by Sj Hooks
I didn't ask her to elaborate because that would undoubtedly create more visions in my head, which would then lead to a very distinct hardening that probably wouldn't go unnoticed by her when I stood up. I wanted to reassure myself that today wasn't about sex for her, and that she genuinely liked spending time with me. I wanted that so much more than sex, and the realization shocked me a little. I wanted Julia's company more than her body. Obviously I wanted her body as well, but given the choice today, I’d pick her company.
I really am in love.
I sighed and buried my face in my pillow as she worked out all the kinks and tension in my neck and shoulders. By the time she was done, I was half-asleep and completely pain-free. She lay down next to me and I felt her caress my hair.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
"You're welcome," she said softly as she continued stroking my hair.
"Why are you so nice to me?" I asked drowsily, before I could think about what I was saying. There was a long pause and I’d almost fallen asleep when she finally spoke.
"I…just like you, is all," she said quietly, and it sounded as though she were apologizing.
"I like you, too.”
Actually, I love you. I like you, but I also love you.
I felt her shuffle closer to me and, acting on impulse, I turned on my side and pulled her into my arms. She went rigid for a few seconds before she relaxed against me. I caressed her hair as she’d done for me and, all too soon, drifted off to sleep.
* * *
When I woke up, she was still in my arms. I smiled as I pulled her a little closer. She made a small sound and I opened my eyes to look at her.
She's awake.
She was staring back at me and I wondered how long she’d been watching me sleep. "Sorry, I seem to pass out a lot around you," I said with a half-smile, referring to the first night when she had put her mouth on me. But that time I’d slept alone and this time she was in my embrace. Things were different between us now. It couldn't be my imagination.
She let out a small laugh and stroked my hair again. "Are you feeling better?"
I nodded and smiled. I hadn't felt this good…ever. In the moment, I didn't care that she was too young and too wild, that her clothes and makeup clashed with my idea of what looked pretty on a girl, or that the rest of the world would judge us cruelly if they knew what we were doing. Spending a quiet day with her was wonderful and I wished that she’d never leave. I moved my face a few inches closer to hers, gauging her reaction. She didn't pull back, and I pressed my lips against hers. I kissed her bottom lip and then the top, while my hand cupped her face carefully. She responded to the kiss and our lips moved together easily as if we’d been doing this for years rather than weeks. I was the one who pulled away again before it became too heated, and she let me.
She really doesn't want sex today. I must be the only man in the world who’s happy about that fact.
She smiled, which turned into a laugh as my stomach growled loudly.
"You did have quite a workout last night," she said, giving me a wink. "No wonder you're hungry."
"Is it dinnertime?"
"Are you hungry?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded.
"Then it’s dinnertime," she said simply.
She was absolutely right. I shouldn't care whether or not it was six-thirty. If I was hungry then I should eat.
"What would you like?" I asked her. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise and I remembered that she hadn't actually told me how long she was staying.
"If you want to stay, that is," I added, trying not to sound too eager.
"I'll stay, but I'm buying us dinner," she said firmly.
"OK,” I agreed, sensing that this was nonnegotiable.
She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and frowned. “Shit, it died on me. I don’t suppose you have a charger that’ll work for this?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.” I grinned.
“Right,” she said, chuckling. “Can I borrow your computer?"
"Sure, it's in my office. There's no password or anything."
She gave me a quick kiss and jumped off the bed with the grace of a ballerina. I sat up and put my shirt back on before stretching. The massage that she’d given me had worked wonders for my muscles and I hoped that she might want to do it again sometime.
I should learn how to give one to her. Maybe there's a book I could read.
Walking into the living room, I started clearing away the cups and sandwich wrappers when suddenly I heard an angry yell.
"Stephen, what the fuck is this?" Julia shouted.
I didn't have time to respond before she came storming out of my office and thrust some pieces of paper into my hands. Her eyes flared with rage and I actually took a step back. She looked like she was ready to hit me. Glancing at the items in my hands, I saw that it was Julia's final paper for my class. And it was absolutely covered in red ink. It looked like it was bleeding. Had I done that?
"You failed me!” she screamed.
I scanned the papers quickly, seeing that she was right. On the last page I had written a big fat F, circling it several times.
"How could you do that to me? This paper is fifty percent of my grade!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.
"I-I…"
"How could you?” she yelled. “Why? I worked my ass off on that paper, hoping you’d… You know what, never mind!”
Turning on her heel, she ran for the hallway and started yanking her shoes on.
"Julia, I…please," I said desperately. “Listen to me—”
"I should have known this would blow up in my face!" she said, grabbing the door handle.
"Don't go, please!" I begged her. "Let me explain."
"Explain what, exactly?" she asked, glaring angrily at me. "That you lowered my perfect GPA because I was stupid enough to sleep with you? What were you gonna do? Screw me a few more times and then flunk me? How could you? I can’t believe I fell for all your bullshit!"
I watched in horror as she wrenched the door open and took a step outside.
Oh, no! No, no, no!
"Please, don't say that! Don't be angry!"
She turned around to face me and hope sparked in my chest. Maybe she’d stay and let me explain.
"You don't have to worry," she said icily. "I won't tell anyone."
"Julia, that's not—" I started.
"I won't say a word," she interrupted. "Unlike you, I know how to keep shit separate. It’s over. That’s what you wanted, right? Well, you got it, Professor! I’m out of here!”
No! She can't go!
I grabbed her wrist, trying to hold her back. Somehow, I ended up on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.
"Don't you ever fucking touch me again, asshole!" she hissed at me.
I scrambled to my feet only to see her hurrying away down the street and jumping into an expensive-looking vintage car, which apparently belonged to her. She drove off, leaving me utterly terrified that the best thing that had ever happened to me in my life had just called me an asshole and left me forever.
Fuck!
Chapter 16
This was bad. This was very, very…just…fucking bad! I was so upset that I couldn’t think of a better word to describe what had just happened. For a moment, I considered jumping into my car and chasing Julia down the street. Various scenes from romantic movies flitted through my brain. A mistake always nearly ruins the budding relationship, but after a grand gesture, the couple always ends up in the rain somehow, kissing and making up while declaring their love for each other. But this was real life, and I doubted that a grand romantic gesture was the way to go, seeing as Julia didn’t want a relationship in the first place. And there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so I was all out of luck.
I stared down at the papers still in my hand, cursing myself for being so asinine. How could I have thought that grading her assignment while I was angry with her was a good idea?
Because you w
ere drunk.
“Idiot!” I scolded myself, closing the door and stepping inside my apartment again. “You stupid idiot!”
I had to fix this. It was all a misunderstanding. I would never, ever have given Julia an F if I’d been sober. As much as I hated the fact that she interrupted my lectures, she always had something well thought-out and insightful to say. It was clear that she had put a lot of work into her paper and I’d completely disregarded it with my remarks in red ink. Glancing down, I could see my comments in the margins and I cringed. I wondered if Julia had managed to read them all. I hoped not.
If only she hadn’t discovered it today, everything would have been all right. I would have seen the paper and gone over it again, giving it a fair grade. Julia never would have known and everything would have been fine. Better than fine. I couldn’t believe that this had happened, just as we were beginning to make progress, and after such a wonderful day in her company. Right now, we would probably be on the couch, waiting for our takeout to arrive. Maybe she’d have let me kiss her again, in that tender way that wasn’t meant to lead to sex.
God, I miss her already.
I had to talk to her. With my heart in my throat, I dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail. I was too much of a coward to leave a message. Rubbing my hand across the pain in my chest, I drew a deep breath.
Fix this.
But how? Romantic gestures were out of the question. No roses, chocolates, or poetry would work on strong, stubborn Julia who didn’t seem to believe in love. I would need to find a way of making her agree to pursue an actual relationship with me, but that would have to wait. First, I needed her forgiveness, and in order to achieve that, I needed to read her paper again. Luckily, I always made my students turn in a digital copy of their assignments, so it only took seconds to print out a new version, unblemished by my drunken scribbles. If only it were that easy to start over with Julia herself.
For the next hour, I submerged myself in her words, only to conclude what I’d already known: the paper was excellent and worthy of an A, if not an A+. Still, I knew I couldn’t simply show up on Julia’s doorstep, graded paper in hand, expecting her to believe me. She would think I was merely awarding her with a top grade to get back into her bed—or, even worse, giving it to her as a bribe to keep her quiet about our arrangement. No, it wasn’t enough for me to change the grade. I needed the opinion of someone neutral, someone just as academically qualified. I needed Brian.
* * *
“Stephen, you OK?”
I glanced up at Brian, smiling faintly. When I’d called him to ask for help, he’d invited me to dinner with his family, which had been great and had distracted me from my worries. But now, in the silence of Brian’s home office, they were back.
“No, I’m really not.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, pushing the chessboard between us to the side.
“I…messed up. I did something…something I’m not proud of.”
My friend nodded for me to continue, taking a swig of his wine.
“It’s…” I groaned, pulling my hair. I knew I had to come clean if I wanted Brian’s help with Julia’s paper, but I was scared to tell him the sordid details of my arrangement with her. What would he think of me, knowing that I’d been sleeping with a student? Next to Matt, Brian was my closest friend, and his opinion mattered to me. I was also worried that he might tell me that I had to end things with Julia, and while I didn’t think it was likely that Brian would tell on me, I didn’t want him to disapprove of my choices.
“I’ve been seeing one of my students.”
Brian shifted in his seat. “OK,” he said calmly, waiting for me to go on.
“I didn’t plan it or anything. It just sort of happened,” I explained. “She…well, she sort of seduced me, I guess. But I let her. I wanted her to.”
“And now you want to end it?”
“No!”
Why does everyone assume that? Even Julia thought I gave her an F on purpose to chase her away.
“No,” I said again. “Brian, I’ve…fallen in love with her.” Saying it out loud felt good, cathartic, and I was finally able to relax a little, having lost a bit of the weight on my shoulders.
“Well, that’s good,” my friend said.
Good?!
I had expected him to be shocked and maybe a little concerned, not calm and pleased.
I laughed humorlessly. “No, it’s really not.”
Brian raised his eyebrows.
“Here’s what happened,” I began. “I noticed this girl in my American lit class. At first, I didn’t like her at all…”
I told him the whole story, only leaving out the details of our physical relationship.
“…And then she swore at me and told me never to touch her again, and left,” I finished, draining the rest of my wine. God, I felt miserable. As I recounted the events, I could see how wrongly I’d acted.
“Wow.” Brian exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve had quite the few weeks.”
“You can say that again. I want to make it right, but I don’t think it’ll fix anything if I grade the paper,” I hedged.
My friend pondered for a few moments, rubbing his forehead.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. She’ll mistrust your motives, even if the paper is as good as you say. I’ll grade it for you.”
Relief flooded through me. “I was hoping you’d say that. It really is great.”
“She sounds like quite a girl,” Brian mused.
“She is…she’s wonderful. A bit crass at times, definitely not someone I’d ever imagined falling for, but—”
“But you did,” he finished.
I nodded. “I hope you don’t think less of me. I never meant for this to happen, but I’m glad it did.”
Brian shook his head. “I’ve known you for a long time. You don’t exactly wear your heart on your sleeve, Stephen. If you really like this girl, then she must be something special.” He drew a breath. “I don’t necessarily think pursuing a relationship with her is the best idea, though, with her being your student and all.”
“I know,” I conceded. “But…I can’t really change that, can I?”
“Well, she could transfer to my class, but not until next semester, of course. That would certainly remove some of the complications, wouldn’t you agree?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Yes, it would, but I don’t know if she’d consider that. She won’t even speak to me. How do I get her to do that?”
Brian held up his hands, chuckling. “I don’t think I can help you with that, buddy. I mean, I haven’t been single in over a decade.”
“Lucky you,” I mumbled. I exhaled, running my fingers through my hair. “How did everything become this complicated? I slept with my student, for God’s sake! That’s just about the worst thing a professor can do, isn’t it?”
“Eh, I’m sure it happens more than people realize. Even though it’s against the rules,” Brian said, shrugging. “Dean Michaels and his wife, for example.”
“Seriously?” This was news to me. John Michaels was the dean of the Romance Languages department, and a very well-respected member of the faculty. I’d seen him and his considerably younger wife at a mixer once. They seemed very happy.
“Well, the official story is that they didn’t get together until after she graduated, of course,” Brian continued. “But…you know, people talk.”
“I’ve never heard it.”
“You don’t really socialize that much,” Brian said, without judgment.
“I guess not. So I’m not a complete degenerate for wanting to pursue a younger woman?”
Brian laughed. “Whatever makes you happy, Stephen, is fine by me.”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be all right,” he said. “Email me your Julia’s paper and I’ll look at it.”
My Julia. If only.
“Thank you,” I said, stifling a yawn. “Do you want to finis
h playing?”
Brian glanced at the chessboard, grinning. “Nah, your head’s not in the game. I’m three moves away from checkmate already.”
“Another time, then.”
“You’re on.” He smiled. “Let me walk you out.”
Chapter 17
As soon as I got home, I emailed a copy of Julia’s paper to Brian. I tried calling her again, and it rang this time, but there was no answer.
All weekend I tried to get hold of her, but she was obviously ignoring my texts and phone calls. I checked her Facebook profile, but there were no new status updates. I contemplated going by her apartment to see if she was home, but decided against it, at least until I got the paper back from Brian.
Sunday was agony. In the midst of my inner turmoil, I started wondering if I would’ve been better off never starting this arrangement with Julia. If I had simply driven away that first night after dropping her off at her apartment, I wouldn't be in this mess—and I would probably be going out with Lily again.
And then the two of us could have lived safely and boringly ever after.
But I didn't want that life anymore. I didn't want predictable and safe. I would be settling with Lily, no matter how appropriate she might be for me, and that wouldn't be fair to either of us. I wanted passion and laughter and love. I wanted Julia.
I have to get her back.
I briefly wondered if there was a risk that she might go back on her word and report me to the university, but I dismissed the thought the second it came to me. No matter how angry Julia was, I could never imagine her doing anything that vengeful. It was clear, however, that she didn’t want to talk to me. All my calls went unanswered and the many text messages I sent begging for a chance to see her were ignored. I hardly ate, slept poorly, and was generally miserable. A harsh contrast to how wonderful I’d felt recently.
Monday morning, I was sitting in my office chewing my fingernails off, almost contemplating taking up smoking just to have something to do with my hands. It was either that or knitting at this point, and I had a strong suspicion that needlework would spark incorrect assumptions about a thirty-three-year-old bachelor who also loved poetry and wine.