by Mia Storm
When the floor has stopped pitching under my feet and I have my bearings, I turn the corner and stagger to the tables. I brace my hands on the back of a chair as the elevator doors slide shut. Just before she vanishes from sight, Blaire catches my gaze, and I see something in her eyes that nearly kills me.
Regret.
Chapter 13
Blaire
“I can’t even…” Professor Duncan trails off and shakes his head. “I don’t have words right now. There is no excuse for Mr. Brenner’s—” His face pulls into a mask of disgust so red I’m afraid he’s about to blow a blood vessel. “—behavior,” he finishes after a second. “He…” He trails off again and lowers his gaze. “I will help you in any way I can. There is a crisis counselor on staff here at Sierra I think you should speak with.”
“I’m fine,” I say, but it’s weak. I’m not fine.
Everything Caiden was worried about just happened.
Guys my age go to jail for doing what we’ve been doing.
What if I’ve brought his every fear to fruition?
When Professor Duncan meets my gaze again, it’s clear he doesn’t believe me.
He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I feel responsible. I placed my trust in Mr. Brenner…put him in a position to…” He drops back in his chair. “I had no idea he was a pedophile.”
At the word, my heart lurches. “He’s not!”
His eyes lift to mine and go sickeningly sympathetic; it’s the type of sympathy reserved for the mentally challenged or the very young when they’ve done something horribly embarrassing but aren’t capable of understanding they should be embarrassed. “I know this has been traumatic for you, Blaire. I’ll take you home and help you speak with your parents about it.”
I bolt out of my chair. “God, no!”
Terror pumps rivers of adrenaline through my racing mind. This is really happening. Caiden is going to lose his job…maybe go to jail. It’s all happening because I didn’t leave him alone when he asked me to.
I could have walked out of class Friday night instead of waiting for him. He wouldn’t have come to the slam. He wouldn’t have taken me home.
He wouldn’t have taken me home.
And the single most intense experience of my life would never have happened. It’s the most selfish thought I’ve ever had, but that was the most real night of my life.
“There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of,” he says, standing from his chair, as if he thinks it’s impolite for him to sit while I’m standing. “You are a child. You were taken advantage of by someone in a position of authority. None of this is your fault.”
But it’s all my fault. I’m the one who pulled my bra out my sleeve every evening between class and seeing Caiden in the library. I’m the one who made the first move and kissed him. My hand was in his pants before his was ever in mine. But telling that to Professor Duncan isn’t going to help.
“Caiden didn’t do anything wrong.”
His eyes widen. “Miss Leon,” he says, his tone turning from sympathy to admonition. “Even if he was not my graduate student, had I found any student in the position I found him in, I would have had him removed from campus. The fact that he was your mentor only makes the offense that much more egregious.” He picks up his phone. “Let me at least call your parents to come for you. This has been a traumatic experience. I don’t believe you should be driving home alone.”
“I’m fine to get home on my own. My car is in the student lot. And I’ll talk to my mother when I get there.”
He sets his desk phone down and pulls his cell off the clip on his belt. “What is your phone number? I want to call after you’ve had the discussion with your family.”
I give him my cell number because there’s no way I want him talking to my parents without having to go through me first. He types it into his phone then lifts his desk phone again.
“I need a security escort for a student from Benton Hall to the student parking lot. And then I need you to confirm that Caiden Brenner is out of the resource center on the fifth floor of the library and off the university grounds.”
He stands and walks with me to the front of the building. “I’m so sorry for my role in this, Blaire. I can’t undo what happened, but rest assured, I’ll do everything in my power to make this right for you. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m really okay,” I say, and try harder to sound like I mean it. “He didn’t make me do anything.”
Sympathy slips over his features again and I want to slap it off his face. “Talk to your family. When you’re ready, I will give you the name of our counselor.”
A uniformed security guard pulls in front of the building in a golf cart and Professor Duncan nods to him as I descend the stairs to the sidewalk without another word. He doesn’t speak and neither do I, and when I get home, I give Mom a wave on my way past the family room and go straight to bed.
In the dark of the room, cocooned under the sheets, I finally let myself feel everything I’ve been struggling to keep at bay. I feel the heavy dread in Caiden’s eyes when he realized we’d been caught. The weight of it sinks me halfway through the mattress. I feel Professor Duncan’s sympathy and the security guard’s curiosity. I feel paralyzing shock tighten my chest and force the air from my lungs. I feel the press of cold fear grip me first by the stomach, making me feel sick, then by the throat. And last, I feel aching emptiness. Because, wherever I go from here, it’s going to be without Caiden.
When my phone vibrates with Professor Duncan’s call, I don’t answer.
∞
I’ve spent every minute of the two days since Professor Duncan caught us in the library either on the phone with Caiden, or waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I’m called to the school office in the middle of second period AP calculus, I know it has.
Principal Elbridge meets me outside her office, and from the practiced sympathy ingrained into her features, I know she knows.
“Blaire,” she says, laying a hand between my shoulder blades and guiding me to her closed door, garnering a curious look from the administrative assistant at the reception desk as we pass through the outer office. “I’m sorry to pull you out of class. If it wasn’t of the utmost importance, I wouldn’t have. There is someone who needs to speak with you in my office.”
She opens the door into the cluttered space and a woman in a green blouse and black slacks stands from the chair next to Principal Elbridge’s desk.
“Blaire Leon?” she asks.
I nod as Principle Elbridge nudges me the rest of the way through the door so she can close it.
The woman is Hispanic and there’s none of the sympathy I’ve seen in Professor Duncan and Principal Elbridge’s eyes in her big dark ones. For a second I think maybe I’m here for some other reason. Until she says, “I’m Detective Diaz. I have a few questions for you.” She looks at the principal. “Can we have your office for a moment?”
Principal Elbridge blinks, confused. “I don’t think—”
“I’m sure Blaire appreciates your concern,” she interrupts, “but I think her interests are best served if we chat alone.”
Her eyes narrow at the woman before she turns her attention to me. “Blaire? Are you comfortable with this?”
I feel my armor go up, even though Detective Diaz doesn’t look at me like I’m clueless. “Yeah.”
“I will be just outside the door,” she says. “You can walk out at any point.”
“I’ll be fine.”
She gives me a long look, then slips out the door.
“Would you like to sit?” the detective asks.
Blood thunders in my ears as I move to one of the chairs near the desk and sit.
She lowers herself into the seat next to me. “Let me cut right to the chase, Blaire. We’ve received a report of sexual contact between you and one of the teaching staff at Sierra State.”
Fuck. It could only have been Professor Duncan.
I shake my head. “I don’t know
what you’re talking about.”
Her gaze turns more assessing, scouring my face. “I’m just trying to get to the truth here, Blaire. A police report was filed. We’re legally bound to investigate any report such as this involving a minor.”
There’s a rush of adrenaline to my bloodstream when I see Caiden’s way out. If I deny it, it’s Professor Duncan’s word against mine. “Your report is wrong.”
“So, you deny having sexual intercourse with Caiden Brenner in the Sierra State library?”
“We’re just friends. That’s all.” I hardly hear my words through the rush of blood in my ears.
She gives me a slow nod and pulls a small spiral notebook out from a black bag on the corner of Principal Elbridge’s desk. “You know,” she says without lifting her eyes from what she’s writing, “I was seventeen once too. I understand you can’t always control who you have feelings for.” She lowers her notebook and her eyes raise to mine. “All I really want is to know that you’re okay.”
There’s no judgment in her statement. I look at her more closely. She’s younger than my parents, maybe in her late thirties. She doesn’t come across as a hard-ass cop, but more like someone who really wants to help. I picture myself telling her the truth. She seems like someone who wouldn’t flip out and overreact. She might get Caiden and me. But just as I’m opening my mouth I realize that if I say it, I can never take it back. If I’m wrong about her, she’ll send Caiden to jail.
“He’s just a friend.”
She looks down at the notebook. “He’s a teaching assistant for one of your classes?”
I nod.
“Have you ever done anything together outside of school?”
I think about the poetry slams he’s been to. It wouldn’t be too hard for her to find out we’ve been seen together. But no one there would have seen us kiss, or even touch, really, except for the shoulder rub that Eva saw me give him the first time he came, back in January. “He’s into poetry, so he’s come to a few of my poetry slams. Nothing else.”
She gives me a slow nod. “Is there anything else you think I should know, Blaire?”
I shrug, trying to come off casual. “No.”
The passing bell rings and she stands. “All right, then, I’ll let you get back to class.”
I gain my feet and am surprised to find my legs a little unsteady.
She holds out a card to me. “If there’s anything I can do for you, or you think of anything else you want to tell me that might help with the investigation, just give me a call.”
My stomach cramps. That doesn’t sound like she’s letting it drop. “Nothing happened.” I say, taking it from her hand.
She nods. “Thanks for your time.”
I walk quickly through the outer office toward the bustling hall. Principal Elbridge is behind the counter on the phone. I hear her call after me but I don’t slow down. I keep my head down and weave my way through the throng and out the front doors. Once outside, it’s suddenly quiet. I slow down and focus on breathing as I move toward the student lot, because my fingers and toes are starting to tingle.
“Yo! Bitch!” I hear from behind me just as I clear the gate into the lot.
Shit. Zoey. I slow and turn as she comes jogging up behind me.
“Jessica said you got called out of class,” she pants as she catches up. “What up?”
I start heading to my car. “Just something to do with my transcript for Berkeley.”
Even though she can barely breathe after her sixty foot dash, she goes for a cigarette in her bag. “So why are we blowing out of school? You never cut class.”
“We aren’t doing anything,” I say, clicking my lock. “I don’t feel great. I’m going home.”
She flicks her lighter and takes a deep drag. “How am I supposed to get home?”
“You have other friends, Zoe,” I say, dropping into my seat. “Worst case, Kevin can piggyback you.”
She pulls a face. “I spread my legs around him, his mind will head in an entirely different direction.”
I close my door and roll down my window. “He worships the ground you walk on.”
“So…you’re really just going home to puke?” she asks.
I shrug. “Sorry.”
She bangs her palm on the roof. “Text me if you’re not coming to school tomorrow. I’ll find another ride.”
I nod and start the car. I peal onto the road and as I pass the faculty lot, I see Principal Elbridge standing out front next to a black sedan with Detective Diaz. They both look up as I pass and I turn my head quickly. But I know I’m busted.
I hit the gas and don’t stop until I’m parked in front of Caiden’s building.
Chapter 14
Caiden
Blaire left my house Saturday morning with my cell number and my heart.
And then everything went to hell.
I spent most of last night and the night before on the phone with her, trying to talk her down. She’s terrified she’s ruined my life. I lied and told her everything was going to be okay.
I watched the sun rise hours ago, but I’m still in bed contemplating my sorry life when frantic pounding at my front door jolts me upright. I glance at the clock and find it’s after ten. My heart hammers as I climb out of bed and go to the window, expecting flashing police lights. What I see instead is Blaire’s shiny Mini.
I tug on a T-shirt and jeans and race to the door, throwing it open. The next second she’s in my arms.
I’ve asked her to stay away, as much for her as for me, but now everything I need is right here in my arms. And it’s killing me. I kick the door shut and hold her close when I realize she’s crying.
“Hey,” I say, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“No it’s not,” she says into my shirt. She sniffles and lifts her damp face. “A detective was at school this morning. Professor Duncan filed a police report. I told her we were just friends and the report was wrong, but…” She presses her face against my shoulder. “I don’t think she believed me.”
There’s a moment that all the blood leaves my head and the room goes gray. This is it. It’s happening. “You should tell them the truth.”
She pulls out of my shirt and her eyes snap to mine. “You said they could send you to jail.”
“I don’t want you to lie for me, Blaire. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
At my words, the shock in her expression is exchanged for indignation. “Neither did you!”
“And if we’re up front with them, they might believe that. It’s our best chance.”
“No,” she says with an adamant shake of her head. “It’s Professor Duncan’s word against ours. They can’t prove anything if we deny it.”
I take a deep breath and guide her to the couch. We sink into it and she settles into my side. Every cell in my body hums with the contact. How can something so wrong it will send me to prison feel so right? “Did you mean what you said in the library?”
Those incredible whiskey eyes meet mine, and in them I see a future I want more desperately than any degree, any career. “You should know by now I don’t waste words. I mean everything I say.”
I press my face into her hair and breathe in her warm vanilla. “How did we get so deep so fast?”
“Didn’t Dr. Seuss say something like, ‘You’ll know when you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.’?”
Despite our current circumstances, a smile pulls at my mouth. “I think so.”
“And Richard Bach said, ‘A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks.’”
“That’s not from Jonathan Livingston Seagull.”
“The Bridge Across Forever.”
“Ah. Makes much more sense.”
“I have so many locks, Caiden,” she says, her voice hitching on my name. “But you fit them all.”
I pull her closer as my heart shatters.
She settles
deeper into my side. “Did you know only ten states set the legal age of consent at eighteen? In thirty two states it’s sixteen.”
“So we had the bad luck to live in the wrong place.” I press my lips to the crown of her head and stroke her hair. I let myself have this for right now, not really knowing if it’s right or wrong and not really caring just at this moment.
“What are we going to do?” she says, her voice little more than breath against my neck.
I peel her gently back and look into those mesmerizing eyes. “Whatever we have to.”
She leans toward me, but just as our lips touch, there’s a knock.
Both our faces turn toward the door and my dread is mirrored in her eyes.
“You should go into the bedroom,” I say, unwrapping myself from her and standing.
She stares at me a moment longer then does as I asked. When she’s out of sight, I move to the door and look through the peephole. On my landing is a Hispanic woman in a green blouse. I finger comb my hair and pull open the door.
“Caiden Brenner?” she asks.
My heart is hammering in my chest and I fight to keep the adrenaline out of my voice. “Yes.”
“I’m Detective Diaz. I wondered if I might have a word with you about Blaire Leon?”
I nod and swing the door wider for her to pass.
She steps inside and takes a second to scan the room. “Is it okay if I sit?” she asks, gesturing to the couch.
“Sure.” We move that direction and I shake off some of my daze. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” she says, lowering herself into the end of the couch and placing her bag on the floor next to her feet. “This should only take a few minutes.”
I take the seat on the opposite end.
She pulls a pen and small scratch pad from her bag and angles herself toward me. “I have a rather delicate situation, Mr. Brenner. Your faculty advisor at Sierra State has filed a very explicit report with the police describing sexual activity between you and an underage student from his class in the library on Monday evening. I’d like you to tell me what happened.”