So Many Reasons Why

by Missy Johnson

“I think I heard he was separated from his wife.” Cass commented, as if reading my mind. I could have kissed her. “They have a kid I think. Pretty young. A girl.” Cass looked at me strangely. “So he is helping you? He was pretty tough in class. He didn't really offer much in the way of extra assistance. I think he had a group tutoring session once a week, and that was it.” I nodded, and shut my laptop, positive my face was bright red.

  “I was just curious. He mentioned working on a case and I wondered exactly what he did.” I shrugged. “I said I was sick, I think he felt sorry for me and sent through some notes.”

  Cass wasn't buying. She eyed me for what felt like forever. Finally, she nodded. She knew something was up, but she left it at that.

  She dragged me over to the couch. My mind kept wandering away from the movie. Who needed The Notebook when my own love story was developing? I wanted to groan and tease the part of me that thought this was a good idea.

  Damn you, frisky Emma.

  When I was sure Cass was too caught up in the movie to care about me anymore, I quietly pulled out my phone.

  Hi Simon,

  I might take you up on the friend thing. You're right, I don't get to expand my circle too much at the moment. I'm watching some girly movies right now with some friends. And Carol of course. She loves The Notebook. By the way, I googled you.

  Emma

  I simultaneously pressed send and regretted adding the last line. What the hell? Who says that? I googled you? I wouldn't be surprised if the police rocked up to arrest me for stalking. I was one step away from laying my lingerie out in his bed. I cringed again. I googled you? Jesus Emma, you're a fuck head.

  Cass was staring at me strangely, not that I blamed her. First the random gasping, and now the loud groans? I'd be suspicious too. My phone vibrated wildly in my pocket. Shit. I smiled innocently at Cass until she turned her attention back to the movie.

  Emma,

  Really, you googled me? Should I be worried? Or flattered ;) What did you find out exactly? And I must admit I am curious as to why you googled me. Curious to see what I looked like hey? Should I be changing my locks?

  Simon

  Relief and terror flowed through me. It was all very confusing. Was he being friendly here, or flirting? Did I even know the difference? I desperately wanted to ask Cass, but I wasn't ready to admit this (whatever it was) to anyone yet. The only thing I was sure about was how glad I was that I didn't have to attend his class after this. Now that would have been weird and very awkward.

  Well you have tickets on yourself, Mr Anderson. I googled you because you mentioned a case you were working on and I was curious about what you did. I didn't even think to look for a picture of you, didn't even cross my mind. Sorry to squash your ego there :)

  Almost instantly I had a reply.

  Now I am embarrassed. Is there an undo button on this thing?

  I laughed loudly. Too loudly. This time all three girls stared at me. I might as well have jumped on the coffee table and performed a strip tease. I'm sure it would have gotten me less strange looks.

  “Something funny?” Asked Cass dryly. I shook my head, and smiled. I waited until they had all returned their attention to the movie.

  Simon,

  Its okay, no need to be embarrassed. We all jump to conclusions at some time or another. Thanks for your help with the essay and your feedback. The notes I will go through tonight and probably email you a million questions. Feel free to tell me to stop if I get too annoying.

  By the way, I lied. I did see your picture.

  Emma

  I felt a feeling in my stomach I don't think I had ever felt before. Good butterflies. I had no idea good butterflies existed! And here I was thinking all butterflies were evil. After hearing stories of the girl’s crushes over the years, it felt good to finally have my own, though I'm sure I wasn't alone. I was pretty sure the entire female population of the class would also be crushing on Simon.

  But the girls love assholes, don't they?

  Chapter Four

  I don't know if it was the hot weather, the fact that I'd had way too much caffeine, or the fact that I hadn't heard back from Simon, but I just couldn't get to sleep. My mind was in overdrive.

  Maybe it was a combination of all three. And now I was hot. In the middle of fucking winter! I threw the covers off in disgust.

  Tom stirred next to me. I felt guilty. I had completely forgotten he was there. He had come over after the girls had gone.

  “Tom, you awake?”

  “Mwwmrndvph” Tom mumbled incoherently, rolling over. I nudged him. Hard. “Yeah, now I am.” He sat up, and stretched, glancing around the room. “What time is it?”

  “It's early. 12am. Midnight” I admitted.

  “You okay? Another nightmare?” Tom turned to me, a concerned look etched across his face. His eyes searched mine for signs of trauma. I loved that about him. The nightmares were so often that he usually wound up sleeping in my bed when he stayed over.

  “I’m fine.” I reassured him, not adding that I hadn't slept yet to be able to have had a nightmare. Reaching for his hand. I lay back in his arms, snuggling in against the cold. His skin was so warm, much warmer than my now cold as ice skin. “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah? Course we can.” He gently tickled my shoulder as I tried to squirm away. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m-Well, we...” I had no idea how to broach the subject. “I think I have a crush on someone.” I confessed. I pulled away slightly, unsure of how he would take it. I swear I could see the shadow of a smile on his lips.

  “Really?” He seemed amused. He hugged me closer. The news of me having a crush made him happy.

  “Okay, I am now more confused. I thought you'd be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. Em, you're my best friend. I want you happy. We have never really been anything more than friends.” He stopped. “No.” He corrected himself “We have always been more than friends. Best friends.”

  “So you're not mad?” I repeated.

  “Why would I be mad?” He shrugged, smiling. He had a point. Why on earth had I thought he would be mad? “Is this the first time- Is this your first crush since..?” his voice trailed off.

  “Yes.” I admitted. I knew where he was heading. “Not that it will go anywhere. Which I guess is why I am so comfortable with it.” Tom nodded. He brushed a finger through my hair.

  “It won’t go anywhere or it can’t go anywhere? There is a difference, you know.”

  I thought about it. I guess it was both. What made me comfortable was that it couldn't go anywhere, even if by some long shot the feelings were mutual.

  “Both. It can't, but if it could I don't think I could.” I paused. Part of me really wanted to tell someone. I thought he'd take it better than Cass. “I think I have a crush on Simon. That’s why I thought you'd be mad.”

  “Who’s S- Oh?” Tom grinned, his eyes wide. “I can't believe my girl is in love.” He teased. “And with a teacher. You little sex kitten. What is he, twice your age?” He hugged me. “My little Lolita.” I wiggled my way out of his grasp to glare at him.

  “I’m not in love, you dickhead.” I retorted, blushing bright red. “It’s been a few emails, and he's not twice my age. He's nearly twice my age.” I corrected, climbing out of bed, hitting him over the head with my pillow in the process. He laughed, lifting his arms to protect himself from my attack.

  “I'm going to make some toast. Go back to sleep.” I kissed him on the cheek and disappeared into the kitchen. I could faintly hear him chanting 'Emma's hot for teacher'. Maybe telling him was a bad idea. I'd never hear the end of it now.

  I sat down with my toast and opened my laptop. There was no way I'd get back to sleep now. Settling on the couch with notes in hand, I set my laptop up. Of course, the notes were just a cover to convince the serious Emma in me I was here to study. We both knew I had no intention of doing any work right now. Oh fuck. I was one of those people. You know who I'm talking about, always
on the phone, emails constantly pinging through.

  All in the space of a day. And all because of one guy.

  I opened my email.

  I felt my heart leap.

  Yes.

  An email.

  His replies were like crack at the moment. Every time one came through, there was me almost sitting on the laptop, ready to reply right away. I wasn't sure I liked the accuracy of that mental picture.

  Emma,

  Ha, I knew you couldn't resist checking out my picture, to see if my wit and humour matched my looks. I don't know why I am still awake, I have a big day tomorrow, I should have been asleep hours ago. Actually I do know why I am still awake. Though I won't burden you with my family issues.

  I found some more articles which might help your essay. I need to watch myself here though, I'm bordering on giving you too much assistance.

  Simon.

  My eyes grazed past the clock. 12. 09am.

  Happy bubbly normal Emma was elated that Simon was obviously still up, and thinking about her. Anxious, nervous Emma was wondering why her professor was up at 12:09 emailing a student. And what did he mean about family issues?

  Vodka. I needed vodka.

  Anxious nervous Emma couldn't handle her alcohol, and right now, we needed her gone.

  I jumped up and raided Tom’s stash, the one he didn't think I knew about, behind the cheerio’s’. One time I'd become so desperate to replace his stash I'd filled a half full bottle of vodka with water. If he ever noticed, he never said anything to me about it.

  I inspected the fridge to see what I could mix it with. Milk, gah. And the thought of orange juice and vodka made my stomach turn. Apple juice? Would that work? I decided to risk it. The flavour was surprisingly refreshing. Maybe I'd just stumbled upon the next big thing in mixer drinks.

  I read his email. Twice. He had such nice words. I giggled to myself. Nice words? The alcohol was obviously going straight to my head. In the back of my mind I was worried he might stop emailing me because it was inappropriate. Sure, there were lines we were crossing, but we were emailing each other in the middle of the night. Something was going on. I wasn't sure I could stop this, even if I wanted to.

  Hi Simon,

  Easy solution. No more helping me then. Don't mention the course or cases in your emails. I really do love hearing from you, so I hope this won’t stop you from emailing. In reference to your picture, yes your looks certainly do match your wit and humour, but is that necessarily a good thing? ;)

  If talking about your family issues with a stranger helps, then talk away. I know I feel better sometimes after a good chat. We can't be strong all the time. Believe me, I've tried :)

  Emma

  An hour and he still hadn't replied. It was going on 1:30. The obvious answer was that he had gone to sleep. My head was sorting through all sorts of ridiculous scenarios as to why he hadn't replied, none of them were pretty. Five more minutes, I decided. Who was I kidding? I'd wait all night for a reply if that's what it took.

  It was a good thing I didn't have his address as I'd probably drive past to see if lights were on. Oh wait. That's right. Damn agoraphobia. My chances of being a stalker were fairly limited. I wondered if I paid a taxi would they drive past his house.

  Are you still awake?

  One single line. Of course I was awake. Awake for as long as you will be emailing me, I thought. If he'd emailed five minutes later I'd have probably employed the services of the NY taxi fleet.

  Yes

  There. One word. No sign of slightly psychotic Emma in that reply.

  I was confused. What the hell was going on? I impatiently stared at my inbox, waiting for a response.

  The sudden vibration of my phone on the glass coffee table sounded incredibly loud in the silence of my living room. As anyone who receives a call in the wee hours of the morning would, I began to panic, all the worst things in the world that could have happened were whirling through my head. Gran had died. Or there was an accident. Or he had somehow found me.

  I stared at the phone as it continued to ring.

  Chapter Five

  "Hello?' I whispered hoarsely. What if it was him? I forced myself to stay calm. He hadn't even been granted parole yet. There was no way in hell it could be him. No way.

  I could feel the acid rising up from my stomach, regardless. Apparently my nerves were not interested in logic. Tom. I should have woken Tom. He was so much better at these situations than I was. Or maybe I just handled things better with Tom around.

  "Emma? A voice. A male voice. He sounded familiar, not enough for me to place his voice. I felt the colour drain from my face. I slid to the floor before my wobbling legs buckled under me. I was on the verge of crying.

  "Who is this?" My body wasn't yet ready to let go of the expectation of bad news. This man was probably a doctor calling to tell my whole family had perished in a fire. Surely there was a study supporting the effectiveness of using an attractive voice or person when delivering bad news? Or, maybe it was him. It had been ten years since I'd heard his voice. I swore I'd never forget it. Maybe I had though. At age ten, surely his voice would sound different compared to now? Maybe my hearing had developed so much that-

  "Simon. It's Simon."

  My first reaction was who?

  My second reaction was holy shit, it's Simon. His voice had wavered when he repeated his name, like he had just realised what a bad idea calling me at 1:30am was. I felt my body relax, only to tense up again when it remembered I was on the phone to Simon. I needed a moment. I had been so panicked that he might have found me, I'd worked myself up into a knot. I took a few seconds to breath. A few seconds too long, apparently.

  “Emma? Are you there?” He sounded so nervous. Hearing his nerves settled mine slightly. We could be a bundle of nerves together!

  "Oh, Simon, nice to hear from you at (I checked my watch) 1:37am." I quipped, taking great amusement in his uncomfortable silence. I pulled myself back onto the couch, feeling dizzy. I wasn’t sure if the cause was the near panic attack, or the fact that I was talking to Simon. Wonderful, sexy Simon. Or possibly a combination of both.

  "Yes, well I realise how very stalkerish it is of me to call so late. In fact I have no idea why I called other than I wanted to hear your voice." He sounded embarrassed. More than embarrassed, he sounded horrified. “God, I sound like a raging lunatic.” He did sound like a lunatic. You'd think this sort of behaviour would have an agoraphobic hiding under the bed, but no, I was lapping it up. Any attention this man gave me simply wasn't enough, yet at the same time it was scaring the shit out of me. How was that even possible?

  "Well, you've heard it now." I joked. My attempt at trying to lighten the mood failed. Yep. I was definitely not a comic. “My voice, that is.” I added hastily. I was sounding like more of a lunatic than he was.

  Maybe he should be the one hiding under the bed. “I like that you called.” I added softly.

  I wasn't sure if that was true or not. I was excited that he rang me, but all my defences were screaming at me that this guy was insane. Who calls someone they barely know in the middle of the night?

  This was worse than the drunk dials I'd listened to on Cass's voice mail. Though some of them were pretty bad.

  “I- what you said, about talking. You're right. Sometimes it does help.”

  “What’s going on? I probably can't help, but getting it out of your head sometimes makes it easier.” I reasoned. He sighed.

  “Just issues with my sister. She is severely disabled, which takes so much out of my mother, looking after her. Yesterday was the anniversary of my father’s death.” He added.

  I breathed out quickly. How selfish was I, thinking I was the only one with problems. It was so easy to forget there are other people out there with issues too. Maybe self-absorbed was the perfect way to describe me.

  "Honestly Emma, I have no idea what I am doing here. For the record, I have never done this, started anything with a student. Ever. Friendship
or otherwise." He clarified. His voice sounded so genuine, so embarrassed. “I think it was just the stress of the day, and then I felt so bad about snapping at you. And now I am calling you in the middle of the night.”

  Where did he see me fitting in? Was I the friendship, or the otherwise?

  "I'm your professor, so I think it would be wise to keep this as friendship." He suddenly announced. He sounded surprised. Why did he sound surprised? And what the hell did that mean? The moment of confusion passed and I realised I'd said what I had thought aloud.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Must be the vodka. I cursed the vodka.

  Evil, evil vodka.

  “So, where to from here?" I asked. “I love your emails. They make my day. Well, they made my day yesterday." I said shyly. How boring was I when my highlight was a few inappropriate emails from my professor?

  Gosh that was sad. Maybe I should book myself a meeting with Dr Phil.

  “I don't know, Emma. I mean, I will stop emailing you as your professor. Just as a friend. Then the lines won't be blurred.” He placed an emphasis on friend. My heart dropped slightly. All my daydreams of us living happily ever after vanished. He may as well have put my heart in a blender and turned it on high.

  Luckily rational Emma jumped back into control before I could confess my love for him. I hadn't even met the guy. He was my teacher. And he was nearly twice my age. All I needed to do was repeat the reasons why falling for Simon was such a bad idea and things would be fine.

  "Right, well I've clearly lost my mind. I better go before I say something I will regret.”

  "Simon?" I said quickly, before he hung up. “Did my voice meet your expectations?" I squeezed my eyes shut, half waiting for his response, and half wanting to hit myself over the head with a brick for asking such a stupid question. How embarrassing if he said no.

  "It surpassed them.” He whispered huskily.” Night Emma.”

  As I hung up the phone I sighed. Romantic Emma hadn't gotten the memo that we were just friends, or at least she didn't care. I swayed my way into the bedroom, giddy from a combination of over indulging in vodka and my late night call.