After grabbing his stuff from the restroom, Logan tried to head back without drawing attention, but when he glanced at Violet’s campsite, the foursome seemed to be having a discussion, and her gaze followed him. He turned his back, making a beeline the opposite direction, but he felt her eyes trailing after him the whole way.
Past the winding road and through another wooded area, he found the dirt trail and followed it back to his own campsite. He passed his worn, blue pickup parked on a pad of gravel and unzipped the door to his own tent. Any peace he’d had when he’d arisen at dawn had been dashed from his mind, and he was left with a muddled mess of complicated feelings.
Violet.
Logan lay down on his sleeping bag, folding his arms beneath his head and staring at the patterns on the top of the tent where sunlight painted patches bright white, leaving the darkened corners in shadows of gray. She’d been the reason he’d left in the first place. Seeing her here reminded him what could happen whenever he got too close to someone. He’d only let his barriers down a few times, and that one had been the worst.
He shuddered, remembering the feel of her arms around him only moments ago. The memory triggered another: the last time he’d been embraced by a woman. Jade. The reason he was here in the first place.
The two women were completely different. He’d never wanted the intimacy with Violet, and still wasn’t quite sure why he’d confided in her. He could blame the rough period in his life—maybe it had been that. But Jade…that was something different. Whereas the closeness with Violet had made his insides writhe like a bucket of worms, the closeness with Jade made him feel like he was floating—like gravity had no pull on him anymore. It scared him even more.
Logan lay there a long time, staring at the fabric above, watching the shapes morph and travel overhead, considering his options. Finally his stomach complained. He hadn’t packed much food, so he climbed into his truck and headed into town. Habit drove him to one of his favorite gourmet burger places that remained in business. He ordered his old standard, though the tattoo-headed cashier with enormous gauges was new and didn’t recognize Logan, let alone have his order memorized like the old workers had. Little things like that had changed, but Logan realized that he too had changed since his days living in Boulder. He’d gained half a decade of experience, which had brought stability and self-confidence. He’d grown.
Maybe the University of Colorado history department had changed, too—or maybe it hadn’t, but the dynamic would be completely different now if he went back. Violet wouldn’t be there at least. Swallowing his last bite, he realized there was an easy way out right in front of him. Logan decided it was time for a change.
Twenty minutes later he parked his car in a visitor space and meandered across campus to the history department, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon. The campus was the same, but everything seemed fresher, alive with possibilities. Even the air seemed to tingle in his lungs as he drew in revitalizing breaths. It was the taste of freedom. Of a box so wide he couldn’t reach its edges—he could stretch and dance and do cartwheels all he wanted inside, and no one could stop him.
When he walked into the offices in the main history building, the receptionist gave him a cursory glance. She hadn’t been there five years ago and looked young enough to have been a student back then. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“Is Dr. Bradbury in?” he asked.
“Yes. Would you like me to page him?”
Logan waved a hand. “Nah. I’ll just peek in on him.”
The receptionist’s eyes narrowed for a moment, evaluating whether this was okay or not. She must have decided Logan’s business looked legitimate enough, because she gave him a nod and turned back to her computer.
Logan strolled down the familiar hallway, its walls still decorated with framed photos of the faculty in stiff smiles and with backs arched in unnatural postures. His photo might have been there too, except the group pictures only went back four years. He rapped softly on the last door on the right.
“Come in.”
Logan entered the office.
A man with graying hair peered over wire-rimmed spectacles that perched on the tip of his nose. “Yes?”
Logan waited for recognition to set in. A familiar tension plucked at his nerves. This man shouldn’t still intimidate him, but he did.
After a moment the pale eyes widened slightly and his chin tilted upward. “Logan. Well, hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, sir. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Always busy.” He gestured to a pile of papers on his desk. “I have an urgent stack of paperwork, actually. Can we catch up another time?”
“It’ll just be a second.”
“Okay.” Dr. Bradbury set down his pen and folded his hands. “How can I help you?”
Logan adjusted his weight to his other foot, and scratched at his jaw. “I was actually wondering if you have any openings in the department—for next semester.”
“I thought you were teaching in Colorado Springs now.”
“I am, but I’m thinking about moving.”
“Oh? Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Everything’s great. I just…I’m looking for a change of scenery.”
Dr. Bradbury’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Logan saw a hint of something there—disapproval? Condescension? Whatever it was, it didn’t make him feel any more comfortable staring into the face of his old boss.
“Do you have your resume?”
“Not on me. But I can send it.”
Dr. Bradbury nodded once. “And you’ll need to resubmit your application. Ask Chelsea for one—she’s the receptionist.”
“Um, okay. Is that it?”
Dr. Bradbury arched a gray eyebrow. “Did you need something else?”
“I just thought since I’ve worked here before…”
“All our applicants must go through the formal process.”
“Right.” Logan bit back a request that the head of the history department pull a few strings for him. He couldn’t get on Bradbury’s bad side and risk not getting the position. “I’ll do that. Thank you, sir.” He turned to walk out.
“Logan?”
Logan turned. “Yes?”
“We expect strict honesty from all our faculty members. And that includes our no-tolerance sick policy.”
“Sick policy?”
Dr. Bradbury’s eyes hardened. “Calling in sick is for emergencies and valid illnesses only.”
“That won’t be a problem, sir.” Logan exited the office, forcing his legs not to tremble as he entered the hall. He blew out a pent up breath and stopped to grab an application on his way out. Chelsea had just handed him the paperwork when one of the history teachers walked in.
“Well, Logan! I haven’t seen you in a while.” The man’s brown eyes were edged with crow’s feet, accentuating his friendly smile. He nodded his salt-and-pepper-streaked head at Logan. “How are you?”
“Hi, George. I’m doing well.”
“Glad to hear it. It’s been too long since we’ve seen your face around here. We should catch up sometime.”
“That would be nice,” Logan said.
“You headed out?” George asked.
“Yeah.”
George nodded toward his office door. “I’m about to leave, myself—I just need to drop these papers off and lock up. If you have time, we could go grab a coffee.”
Logan had no other plans. “Sure. That sounds great.”
Thirty minutes later the two of them were sitting in a local coffee shop sipping their beverages and watching the afternoon crowd straggle in for a caffeine boost.
“So, what brings you to Boulder?” George asked.
“I’ve been taking some time off, doing some camping outside the city.”
“Sounds nice. So what were you doing on campus?”
“I’m thinking of taking a job here,” Logan said.
George’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Couldn’t stay away, eh?�
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Logan chuckled. “Something like that. How are things in the department?”
George nodded thoughtfully. “Good, good. We have a new receptionist—you probably saw her. Amber left a few months ago.”
“Amber?”
“The one before Chelsea. I guess she started after you left. Hmm, it really has been a while.”
“Has much changed?” Logan asked.
“Nah, not really. Bradbury’s still hardheaded as ever, but he runs the department well, so I can’t really complain.”
“You’re teaching this summer?” Logan asked.
“Yep. You know me—terrible workaholic.”
“You still take grading home on the weekends?”
“Hard habit to break.” George smiled in a way that said he didn’t mind it at all. “With Sam and August out of the house, I have plenty of free time for it. Of course Leslie gives me hassle every now and then, but mostly she’s busy with her tea parties.”
“Your family’s doing well, then?”
“They’re great.” The lines on George’s face deepened, and his eyes probed Logan. “So how are things with you?”
“Oh, they’re good.”
“Yeah? You’re teaching summer too?”
Logan nodded.
“How are your students?”
“Great. I—” Logan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the number. “It’s the school. Give me a second, okay?” He stood, putting the phone to his ear and striding to the rear of the coffee shop. Closing his eyes, he released a silent sigh as he listened to Schnider’s stern voice.
“Yeah, I’m going to be out tomorrow, too,” Logan said. “No, I’m still not feeling well. Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.” Ending the call, he turned and nearly collided with George, who was heading for the restroom.
Logan returned to the table, and when George got back, his eyes had that scrutinizing look again.
“So, what classes are you teaching next semester?” Logan asked.
George’s eyes narrowed. After a pause, he spoke, his words subdued, almost under his breath. “Logan, are you calling in sick again?”
“What?”
“I heard your conversation. You said you weren’t feeling well, but you just told me you’ve been out camping.” George sighed. “Are you having boundary problems with another student?”
“I—what? No. What makes you say that?”
“I remember you struggled with that a bit, is all. With one girl in particular, I think. Real sweet girl, and pretty…what was her name?” George’s gaze trailed off like he was summoning an image of her.
Logan swallowed. He’d forgotten that George knew. “Violet.”
George’s focus snapped back to Logan. “Right. That was it.”
“No. It’s nothing like that. It’s just…” How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened in the last month?
But George’s expression was empathetic, not critical. “Becoming a teacher was a hard adjustment for you. I understand that. It’s okay to need some space.”
“Well, yeah. I admit, I was bad at the boundaries thing.”
“I remember you trying to lock your office door so students wouldn’t find you.”
“Until Bradbury found out.”
“I bet he wasn’t too happy about that.”
“No. And then when I did start letting them in…” Logan sighed. “I guess I let it go too far. Knowing how much was such a difficult thing, back then.”
“It’s a tricky thing sometimes,” George said. “Knowing how much to give and when to step back.”
Logan released a long breath. “That was five years ago, though. It’s been better at Colorado College. I’ve been better. It’s not like what you remember. I keep regular office hours. And last year I didn’t even use my sick days, let alone…you know.”
“That’s good to hear. How is the faculty?”
“Everyone is really nice. I haven’t had any problems.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” George said.
“It’s a beautiful campus.”
George settled back in his seat and looked down his long nose at Logan. “Then why are you so eager to leave?”
Logan blinked, caught off guard by the question.
George folded his arms, regarding Logan with a casual stare that seemed to pierce through him. “I mean, you make it sound like things are great. I don’t understand why you’d want to leave so badly. What do we have that Colorado College doesn’t?”
“Mountains?”
“That explains why you’d come visit, but it doesn’t explain a move or something drastic like quitting your job.”
With his front teeth Logan scratched at the bristles below his lip.
“You been seeing anyone lately?” George asked.
“I—” Logan gave a nervous chuckle. “Right.”
“I’m serious.”
Logan’s thoughts flitted to Jade, his stomach tightening. He buried his hands in his pockets so George wouldn’t see his tensed fingers. “No.”
“You should consider trying it.”
Logan’s head gave a little jerk without him initially realizing he was saying no.
“There’s something very healing about being in a healthy relationship.” George held up a hand. “Not saying you have any issues you need to deal with. Just saying, there’s something about having a partner you can rely on.” George’s focus drifted, his gaze softening as if a memory had caught it. His mouth relaxed into a faint smile he seemed to be unaware of.
“I’m a loner by nature,” Logan said.
“That’s my point,” George said, coming back to the conversation. “It’s okay to be alone sometimes, but none of us should try to go it alone all the time. Opening yourself up to someone can be really hard. Especially the first time. But when you find the right person…” He paused, letting the stare penetrate through Logan. “It’s worth it.”
Logan sighed, resignation making his shoulders slump. He ran his hands through his hair, feeling his composure slipping. “I tried that once. It bit me in the ass.”
“Violet?”
Logan nodded.
“What exactly happened between you two?”
“We were friends.”
“Good friends?” George asked.
“I told her things.” Things he’d had no one else to tell.
“But nothing of a…romantic nature happened between you two?”
Logan shook his head. “She wanted it to. But I couldn’t get into a relationship with one of my students. Plus, I just wasn’t interested in her that way.”
George nodded. “So you had to let her down easy. I bet that was hard.”
Logan tightened his jaw, his teeth clamped together so hard it was almost painful.
Confusion clouded George’s face for a moment, then his eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t tell her.” Slow as a sunrise, realization seemed to dawn on him. “That was five years ago. That was when you—”
“I had to leave.”
“Did you?”
Perspiration beaded on Logan’s forehead. “The boundary was getting hazier every day. She wanted things I couldn’t provide. I couldn’t—” Logan ran his hands through his hair. “I couldn’t deal with it—with her.”
George considered this. “I know it had to have been hard. Several of us in the department have had the occasional student latch on a little too tightly. Of course, I can imagine it’s a little more difficult when you’re one of the few young, strapping professors. I haven’t been in that club for a while.” He chuckled. “But still. There were other ways out.”
Logan opened his mouth to defend himself, to plead his case, but speaking of this aloud made it all sound so shallow, and he couldn’t fool himself into believing it. His voice came out in a rough, scraping sound. “You’re right. I should have dealt with her the right way, five years ago.” Remembering his encounter with Violet earlier that morning made Logan’s back stiffen.
“I understand. You had a bad experience,” George said. “But that’s not a reason to shut out the rest of the world.” He leaned forward, placing a palm on the table between them. “Are you here because it’s the right thing for you, or are you here because you’re running away?”
Logan couldn’t answer.
~
For the rest of the day George’s words hung over Logan like pregnant storm clouds threatening to birth truths he might not be ready to consider. He kept thinking of all the reasons that moving back to Boulder was an easy choice. A good choice. The right choice?
He wished he could just forget about everything for a little while and enjoy the mountains—everything was so beautiful here. Even the long hike that afternoon couldn’t clear his head. The scenic views made him want to take pictures, but he’d left his camera behind, and thinking about it just made his mind go to Jade again. He thought about what George had said. What would it be like to let his walls down for good? Would he be able to handle being that transparent all the time?
That evening, darkness had set in and the camp fire was crackling a cathartic melody that made Logan’s body relax, despite his lack of mental clarity. His muscles ached from the hike in a familiar, somewhat pleasant way that he associated with solitude and freedom. He was sitting in his camping chair stretching his legs out in front of him when footsteps crunched nearby.
His hackles rose like fur on a cat’s back. A woman came out from behind the trees, stepping off the dirt path and onto his small, temporary plot of land. It was Violet.
The fire dancing off her features made her expression demure and alluring at once. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” Logan stared at the fire.
“Mind if I join you?”
He shrugged.
Violet took it as acceptance and sat on one of the large cut logs near his chair. He expected her to make small talk, but she just rested her elbows on her knees and stared at the fire. He watched her, curious. Her shoulders, normally carried with perfect posture, drooped. She dug a toe in the dirt, making patterns and getting her rhinestone sandals dusty—sandals that looked like they’d been worn maybe once.
Constricted: A Flawed Short Story Page 3