Mr Blackwell: Teacher Student Romance

by S K Quinn

  I stalk towards the theatre steps. When I reach them I turn, holding up my watch.

  ‘There’s somewhere I need to be,’ I tell her.

  Christ.

  She’s well aware of what just happened. I lost control and kissed her. Not as a character. Not as part of a play. For real.

  One of my students …

  What sort of man am I?

  40

  That first kiss with Sophia … I will never forget it. As long as I live. I never knew a woman could feel like that. Never realised my cold heart had any chance of opening.

  And of course, I was terrified. Absolutely fucking terrified.

  So I ran.

  I booked in a substitute lecturer, told Denise I was visiting my sister and left.

  I’m not a man who runs away from things. Ever. A difficult part. A difficult director. A fight … I never run. I always stand my ground. But this was different. Because I couldn’t bear to hurt her, and I knew if I stayed I would.

  I did see my sister. Briefly. She was better than she had been. There were glimmers that she might be pulling herself out of the swamp. But I learned long ago there’s nothing I can do for her. Only what she can do for herself. That’s the way drugs work.

  My intention was to forget about Sophia. To put distance between us and get her out of my head. But the more time I spent away from her, the more my heart ached.

  I found myself doing the most ridiculous things – watching Macbeth in a small, West End theatre, walking in the woods …

  I even dug out Sophia’s audition footage and watched her over and over.

  I convinced myself that Sophia was simply an addiction. A bad habit. Something I needed to struggle against. Addiction, after all, runs in my family.

  I reasoned that this particular habit was just like when I was sixteen and met Cassandra. In time, this obsession would pass.

  Yet truthfully, I knew Sophia was different. I ached for her. Literally ached for her. She was all I could think about. I had no relief, day or night.

  The thought of her lips on mine – it played over and over in my mind, torturing me.

  It’s funny – you get to spot the type of girl. The ones who want to be dominated. But Sophia … she was different. I knew she’d enjoy it. But it wasn’t about that. Truthfully, it was about turning her into a woman. Even helping her acting, in a strange sort of way. Not that I thought her acting was bad. But I knew she could be incredible. If I opened her up, she could be astonishing.

  After a few weeks, I couldn’t stand it any more. I couldn’t stand being away from her.

  I told myself that I needed to get back to the college. That I was letting the pupils down. Which was true. And of course, I resolved to never place myself in temptation’s way, as far as Sophia was concerned. No more one-on-ones.

  I thought that seeing her develop and grow as an actress … maybe that would be enough. Maybe that would lessen the aching in my heart.

  The pain … it was unbearable back then.

  I run my hand down Sophia’s sleeping body and put my lips to her hair.

  She smells incredible.

  To think there was a time when we weren’t together – it’s hard to imagine.

  I put a gentle hand on Sophia’s hair, feeling her warmth beneath me.

  She’s mine. And she wants to be mine.

  Beauty fell in love with the beast.

  And the beast will protect her. Forever and always.

  Sophia has seen me. All of me. Light and dark. And she loves me.

  I have let go.

  I have become part of her, and she of me. I thought if we were together … that I’d corrupt her. Ruin her. Take her into a dark world she’d never be free of.

  But it’s been the other way around. She’s taken me into her lightness.

  For the first time in my life, I see the side of myself that is light. Human. Loving.

  I have been such a total, complete bastard to women. I have used them and cast them aside. I haven’t loved a single one of them up until now. I never understood how people could have relationships. Get close in that way.

  Now I have Sophia, it all makes sense. I understand. Love. It’s what was missing. And Sophia is the only girl I will ever love.

  41

  So here I am, back on campus. Heading towards the lecture theatre.

  And I’m going to see Sophia today.

  My heart pounds at the thought.

  This has to stop now, this obsession.

  I kissed her …

  Yes. I did. I kissed my student. In the theatre where I should have been teaching her. I couldn’t resist her, it was as simple as that. But it won’t happen again. I will not let her get so close a second time. No more one-on-ones – Denise can handle those from now on.

  I can handle Sophia in a classroom of students, although it will be painful.

  I wonder if she thought of me while I was away, and instinctively know that she did.

  This will be hard for her too – seeing me again. I know that. But she’s young and beautiful and she’ll move on. There are many men she will get close to in her life. For me, there will only ever be her.

  Denise tells me there have been all sorts of ridiculous rumours about why I left so suddenly – one of them being that I’m in love with a pupil.

  I didn’t give anything away. Denise is an intuitive woman, but I am an exceptional actor.

  I march along the corridor.

  A mass of students stands outside the lecture theatre, and I know Sophia is among them somewhere. But I don’t look for her.

  It’s only when I get right near the door that I see her – eyes wide and hurt. But she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at the floor, all false pride and bravado.

  My heart squeezes to the point of pain.

  Just get through this first lecture. It will be easier after this …

  I stand at the front of the theatre, waiting for the students to filter in.

  Of course, Sophia sits at the front. It’s her usual seat. It would be odd if she didn’t take that one – people might start to gossip.

  I can handle this.

  I take papers from my laptop case, frowning.

  I cannot look at her. I cannot engage with her in any way. And I don’t.

  The whole lecture, I pretend that Sophia is invisible – some pupil I hardly know. I do not love her. I do not want to take her to bed with me. I am numb.

  Of course, it’s hard not to notice how nervous Sophia is. Her hands are shaking so much she can barely make notes. When I see that, my heart aches. I want to hold her and make it all okay. But me holding her would be very far from okay.

  I don’t look at her. I don’t talk to her. I don’t even meet her eye when I pass her a handout. I am as cold as cold.

  I ask questions, but I never call on Sophia for the answer.

  42

  When class finishes, I ignore the stream of pupils heading towards the door and stuff papers into my laptop case.

  Gradually, the room falls silent. And then I feel her, right beside me.

  Sophia.

  I don’t look up. ‘We’ve said all we need to say to each other, Miss Rose.’

  It’s hard, being so cutting to such a gentle, sweet girl. But it’s for the best.

  ‘No,’ says Sophia. ‘There’s something I need to say to you.’

  I close my laptop case and look purposefully towards the back of the room.

  ‘Please, Sophia, don’t make this harder than it already is.’

  ‘This isn’t fair,’ she says. ‘You ignored me all through class. I’m here to take this course just like anyone else. I haven’t done anything to you—’

  Christ. Haven’t done anything to me! If only she knew …

  I cut her short. ‘I thought it for the best. I thought you’d be pleased I’m acting professionally. Properly.’

  ‘I don’t want you to ignore me.’

  ‘Yes, you do. You just don’t realise it. Bel
ieve me, Sophia – if you had any sense, you’d be running out that door.’

  ‘Please,’ she says. ‘Even if nothing can happen between us, can’t we just try and act normally?’

  How can she not know what I’m feeling inside? ‘I don’t think that’s possible.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You really want to know?’ I look right at her – straight into those melting brown eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she replies. ‘After your talk a few weeks back about managing your emotions, I’d really like to know.’

  I laugh, but it’s not a kind laugh. If only she could see the battle it is to manage my emotions around her. ‘That’s exactly what I am doing. Managing my emotions.’

  ‘By ignoring me?’

  ‘Yes. And if I didn’t ignore you ...’ I look away from her.

  ‘What?’ she asks.

  Just tell her. She must know anyway. Of course she knows. How can she not?

  I look her right in the eye. ‘It’s going to be hard to stop myself.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From crossing the line.’

  Sophia’s lovely browny-white skin turns pink.

  Christ. I am a fucking idiot.

  ‘Who says I’d agree to that?’ she says.

  ‘I do.’ The people who call me arrogant have it wrong. I tell the truth, that’s all. And if the truth happens to be that I performed exceptionally or own the best drama college in the world … well I tell it.

  Sophia does want me. Her flushed neck and awkward body tell me so.

  I hear someone walking down the corridor, and realise how exposed we are – talking openly in the classroom like this. I couldn’t give a damn about myself, but I have Sophia to protect right now.

  I open the stationery cupboard.

  ‘In here.’ I grab her wrist. ‘Now.’

  I pull Sophia into the cupboard and slam the door closed.

  ‘I don’t want people gossiping,’ I say, somewhat distracted by the thump of my heart.

  The two of us together, in this confined space … it’s hell. God I want her. The things I want to do to her …

  I feel my fingers tightening around her wrist.

  Suddenly I’m angry. Doesn’t she know what I’m capable of? Doesn’t she have any interest in protecting herself?

  ‘Are you trying to torture me?’ I breathe. ‘Staying after class, making this so much more difficult than it already is?’

  I’m very aware that I’m still holding her wrist. And I don’t want to let go.

  ‘Of course not,’ she says.

  ‘You don’t know what it means to be mixed up with me.’ My grip tightens.

  Let her see, let her know what I am.

  ‘True,’ she says. ‘But ... maybe I’m willing to find out.’

  I close my eyes. She has no idea. Absolutely no fucking idea. If she did, how could she want to find out more? But perhaps this is the only way. Once she sees what I truly am, she’ll run screaming.

  No she won’t, a little voice says. She’ll submit to you. You know she will.

  My heart is beating so hard I can barely breathe.

  ‘If anything happens between us,’ I hear myself say, ‘it would damage your reputation.’

  ‘And yours,’ she says.

  ‘I couldn’t care less about me,’ I snap. ‘I have enough money to never work again. People – newspapers – talk about me all the time. I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me. But you’re not part of that world and I don’t want you to suffer its ugliness.’ I shake my head. ‘I can’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘But it feels so right,’ she says. ‘You must feel it too. That there’s something pulling us together.’

  I run my hand through my hair, still feeling her skin beneath my fingers. It’s soft and delicate and will bruise oh so easily.

  Tell her, says the little voice. Tell her the truth. She knows it anyway.

  I take a deep breath.

  ‘Yes. I feel it,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll admit that much.’

  43

  Christ.

  For the first time in my adult life, I am losing control.

  It feels like trying to hold back a rushing train with my palms.

  Impossible.

  Sophia puts her hand on my shoulder, and I don’t push her away.

  The feel of her – she is amazing. Not just her body. Her soul too.

  I close my eyes.

  My fingers loosen on her wrist and I let her hand drop, breathing her in. Good god, she’s perfect.

  Does she know how her hand feels to me? Does she know what she’s doing?

  ‘Marc—’ Sophia’s voice is light. Gentle.

  My eyes flicker open, but I can’t look at her.

  ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ I manage.

  If this is some sort of test, I’ve failed. I failed the day I met her. I never should have let her come to the college.

  ‘Ye-es,’ she says, the most adorable little catch in her voice.

  I turn to her, my eyes hardening. This is it, then. I am a total, complete bastard who is about to cross the line with an innocent, young pupil.

  Sophia has fallen into the arms of a wolf. And she is about to find out exactly what I am capable of.

  I push my lips down hard on hers, with the hunger, anger and passion that’s been driving me crazy since she started Ivy College.

  I want her to submit to me. I want her to be mine.

  I have to have her.

  She softens against me, yielding. Just like I want her to.

  She is mine. She is mine.

  I take her into my arms and lean her back, lips pressing harder on her now.

  My hand goes into her hair and round to her neck.

  There have been so many girls. So, so many girls. But none like her.

  It feels unbelievable, to take charge of her like this.

  A part of me wants to laugh. She thinks she sees light in me. She thinks everyone has light in them. But maybe she’s wrong.

  I pull her hair tight.

  She gasps, and I feel myself harden.

  The feeling of her under my control is unbelievable. I’m almost dizzy with it.

  I hold my eyes on hers, challenging her.

  This is who I am Sophia. I am not a nice man. Not a nice man at all.

  She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move. Her eyes don’t take on that wanton, glassy look that says fuck me right now.

  She just looks … afraid.

  Oh dear god.

  What am I?

  Reality comes crashing down on me.

  I am her teacher.

  I let go of her hair.

  ‘This can’t happen,’ I say, pulling back. ‘Sophia—’

  ‘Why can’t it happen?’

  That answer surprises me. Isn’t it obvious? Didn’t she feel the tightness of my hand in her hair just now?

  ‘Because there’s a side of me I don’t want you to see.’

  ‘Marc, I’m not afraid.’

  I want to laugh. She may not be afraid now, but she will be. She will be terrified, awakened, pleasured and terrified again.

  Does she think of me as simply strict? Cold? Detached?

  Doesn’t she know what I want to do to her? Can’t she picture herself, as I do, tied up and begging for mercy?

  ‘But Sophia, don’t you understand?’ I say. ‘I need to be in control.’

  ‘You’re scared you’re losing control?’ she whispers.

  I laugh. ‘Not exactly.’ I am afraid of losing control, of course. But that’s not what all this is about. I need to be in control. That’s just how I work.

  ‘Then what do you mean?’ she asks.

  ‘I mean I want to control you. To dominate you. That’s why this is all so wrong. I never should have …’

  I watch her large, brown eyes widen and see her soft, gentle lips pull in confusion. She doesn’t know what’s going on. She just doesn’t understand.

  �
�Christ,’ I blurt out. ‘You should go. This shouldn’t be happening.’

  ‘Marc, please—’

  ‘GO,’ I snap, finding one final flurry of strength that sends her reeling away.

  She looks hurt and confused, but she’ll get over it.

  I watch her fall out of the cupboard, giddy and searching around to get her bearings.

  I sink back against the shelves, a hand running through my hair.

  Thank god. I didn’t touch her. I let her go …

  But then a voice in the classroom makes me stand bolt upright.

  ‘I heard Mr Blackwell was in here. I wanted to talk to him.’

  Oh for fuck’s sake.

  It’s Cecile.

  Denise was right about her. She saw an edge to Cecile at the auditions – something unpleasant and self-centred. She didn’t want her at the college because she didn’t think she’d be supportive towards the other students. And she was right.

  God really does have a sense of humour today.

  I stride out of the cupboard.

  ‘Mr Blackwell,’ says Cecile. ‘I wanted to speak to you about my performance. But I see you’re busy.’

  That last comment is aimed at Sophia.

  44

  Cecile stalks out of the classroom, and I feel my insides sink. She’s jealous – I know women well enough by now to spot jealousy. Actually, it’s something I seem to cultivate in them. I suppose it’s because I’m so detached. So uninterested in a relationship. When they get close, I move on to the next one. And they go crazy.

  Cecile, the poor little rich girl, wants a famous actor on her arm. And she, quite rightly, sees Sophia as a threat.

  Sophia’s eyes are wide and frightened. ‘Marc—’

  ‘She doesn’t know anything,’ I reassure her. ‘Look, what happened back there was so wrong.’

  ‘It didn’t feel wrong to me.’ She rubs her beautiful, slender arms.

  I let out a long breath. ‘Sophia, listen. You should be with a nice young student who kisses you on the cheek and takes you out to dinner. I’m not kind or gentle or nice. I’m … I’m a monster.’

  ‘You don’t seem like a monster to me. I … Marc I want to know you. All of you. I’m not afraid.’

  Not afraid? Oh Sophia, Sophia. You will be …

  ‘Sophia, you don’t know what you’re saying.’