by Autumn Avery
Hatch took a seat beside me. The way he was seated now? He was a friend instead of a boss. It was sort of comforting, even if I really didn't have a whole lot of reason to treat him as such.
"I met a guy the night before. We really hit it off. It felt like one of those love at first sight things straight out of a movie. I'm not exactly a super... um... flirtatious person, Professor. I'm used to being seen as the nerd."
"Really?"
"Hmm?"
"You see yourself as a nerd?"
"Well, yeah, I'm studying to become a teacher and I play dumb video games and read stupid romance novels, and..."
"I believe you, I just find it interesting."
An eyebrow was raised at his evaluation. What was he, my psychologist? "Point is, I'm not a go to bars and meet someone person. I only went because my friend told me it'd be good for me, and whatever."
"So you went to a college bar?"
"No! I went to a twenty-somethings bar. According to Emma anyway."
"You met Trevor there then?"
He was catching on. I nodded. "Yeah. Trevor came up to me. Saved me from some creep asshole. I went along with him. He fell in a lake on purpose."
"Wait, he fell in a lake on purpose?"
"On accident, on purpose."
"But if it's an accident, it's not on purpose...?"
I shook my head. Hatch was past the half-century mark for his age. "It's not important. I stumbled into it. I went home with him. We.... had casual sex, I guess?" Being that he could have been old enough to be my grandfather, I also wasn't super keen on talking about such things with him.
"Hmm. It never came up that he was a student at this university? It seems like that should come up."
"I mentioned I was a teacher. He said he didn't want to talk about education. Seemed like it was a sore spot for him, and in hindsight, I see why."
"He had been given warnings, yes."
"I'm not lying here, Professor. I didn't know he was a student. He didn't know I was going to be his teacher. When we found out, we were freaking out, because we both knew there was going to be something far more between us. We couldn't resist one another. More happened. I still can't resist him. If he walked in here right now, I could try to poorly fake having no interest, but no, he'd be right there, and I'd be fawning over him like I'm some idiotic teenage girl. I'm twenty-two, I should be done with the whole fawning over boys thing."
The professor leaned back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought. There was silence for a time, and really? It made me uncomfortable. Him being accusatory at least was something I could easily understand.
"Do you love him?"
"Excuse me?" I glared at him. I wasn't expecting that sort of question.
"Are you in love with Trevor Richards, Ms. Casey?"
"Um, uh.... I... uh..."
He laughed. "Say no more. I understand."
"You understand what?"
"Love. Young love in particular."
Again, I kept staring at him like he was a crazy person.
"Ms. Casey, do you think I popped out of my mother's womb looking as I do now?"
"Well, no."
"I was young once. I was a liberal arts major. I was a romantic. Jan and I met so long ago. I remember the first few years. I couldn't stay off of her. I wrote her poems about how I was madly in love with her when I first saw her."
"Poetry? I don't think Trevor is going to write me a poem."
"It's not his style, but I wouldn't be surprised that an athlete like him has a heart like mine. Today's society paints this foosball as so much more noble, so he likely went down that path. It doesn't mean he can't fall in love though."
"I doubt Jan was your student, though."
"No, no, we were fellow students. No drama there." He stood up, standing tall, stroking his beard. "You're young. You're brilliant. Life's put you in a strange spot, and you're being punished by a regulation not designed to affect your situation. You did mean everything about Richards’ progress, correct? It wasn't because of your feelings for him?"
"Everything I said about that was true. He really does seem determined to succeed regardless. All of this, besides the whole meeting me thing, was a wake-up call to him."
He laughed. "Then again, since he's my student, I don't see how sucking up to you would really do anything anyway."
"I assure you, none of this is some plot of blackmail or anything. We're two consenting adults who got caught up in a web of bullshit."
He took a few steps toward the door. "You're still suspended, Casey. I can't do anything about that. But this old professor has some pull here and there. I'll do what I can to buy you time, but I suggest to figure out some way to stop them from believing you're some harlot who spreads her legs for her students so easily."
"That's what they think I am?"
"You're guilty until proven innocent. Remember that, Casey. Good luck. You seem like a good egg who the universe aligned to destroy. Maybe it's something I can write a poem about." He continued to stroke his beard as he departed the room.
I didn't see the professor being a Romeo in himself being a thing, but I guess you can never judge a book by its cover.
Still, it didn't change the precariousness of my situation. While Professor Hatch being sympathetic did help, he was a tenured professor, not the dean. He couldn't trounce this alone.
I picked up my things, pacing about, really worried about what I could possibly do. There was no exception for true love. I read plenty of those cases in the past, and I'm sure plenty of those cases used supposed love as an excuse, when it really was just an exploitation of power.
As much as I dreaded it, it still seemed like the best possible solution was for us to end it, and deny it from there. Feign hostility.
More than just our usual verbal sparring, but instead outright hatred. Have him call me a bitch. I call him a bone-headed asshole. Make it like there's no way we could stand one another.
Even that might not work. That could easily be taken as a conflict between two jilted lovers. To be lovers, you have to fraternize, so on and so forth.
Doom, doom, doom. It was all I could think about because really? It was all I could see.
24
Trevor
Trevor
* * *
The school had a really solid library for student use. It was open twenty-four hours during the school year. Free Wi-Fi, and there was even an off-brand Starbucks open during the day if you needed caffeine.
For me, though, none of that really mattered.
I was grumbling at people acknowledging me. The message that I wasn't in the best of moods should have been loud and clear.
They had already suspended her. I walked in for my catch-up lesson, and Hatch sent me away.
"Assistant Professor Casey has been suspended on suspicion of her conduct that is not up to the quality Aaronsville University expects in his faculty," he said. "I don't have anyone else to spare. You'll have to study on your own. My apologies."
The way he was looking at me, he knew that I was the conduct that Stephanie was doing that was riling them up so wrong. And yet?
No one told me I was suspended. Or under review. Or anything. No, I was the big football star. They were going to make Stephanie take all of the blame, using her as a scapegoat. If I tried to protest, they would tell me they were removing the temptress from me. I mean, I'm the student. This is all for my protection.
What a load of crap.
I found a corner of the library and plopped myself down in the chair, opening up the little laptop I had brought with me. It was all on me now.
The New Year's game was in three weeks. The exams I needed to take to improve my grades were in one. No more help for me, my only real punishment for all of this.
It was pretty fucking funny, too. Stephanie was actually a pretty good teacher in relating all of this nonsense to me. I was actually enjoying talking about all of this old stuff like Bede, Dante, and everything else. May
be it was more that I was just so into her that I'd pay attention to anything she said, but I doubt that. She was just good at making it relevant and understandable.
I knew she'd be a great teacher for years to come, and yet her career's going to be over when she's barely even old enough to drink. Such fucking bullshit.
All on me. All on my ability to study this stuff myself. I opened the files I needed, and looked at what seemed like miles and miles of endless text in front of me. Running my hands through my hair, I sighed. I contemplated going to get caffeine because I was definitely going to be here awhile. I decided I didn't need it just yet.
Focusing, keeping myself steady. If I wanted to get back on the field. If I wanted to make sure Stephanie's name was cleared.
If I wanted Stephanie.
All of this. All of it came on me teaching myself.
I had spent hours in the gym. Hours running down the field, building muscles, conditioning myself.
Fuck, the brain was just another muscle. I had to flex it and use my strength to protect her. It’s just that I had to do it by quoting Dante instead of, I don't know, whisking off her feet and carrying her out of a burning building.
I felt like I was about be part of the nerdiest training montage ever.
25
Stephanie
Stephanie
* * *
There was some sort of sound going off.
I didn't want to bother with it.
No, not when he was on top of me, his throbbing member sliding into me, the sheer bliss that was shooting through.
Fuck, why was he so goddamn big? So goddamn good? Bucking into me, I bucked right back into him. Wrapping my legs around him, murmuring his name.
I was tossing and turning under him struggling to just milk this orgasm just a little longer.
The noise repeated. I tried my hardest to ignore that too. More murmuring.
God, I was... I was coming.
Or I thought i was.
I thudded onto the floor, face-first, the smell of lo mein filling my nose.
Blinking, I was finally being dragged back to reality, realizing that it would be incredibly hard for Trevor to fuck me when I was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and pajama bottoms.
It had only been a few days since I'd seen him. I thought it took longer to be overwhelmed by random sex dreams. I guess he made me that horny, and having it build as an itch I couldn't scratch at the moment, well, it meant I was going to be having lady wet dreams and deal with waking up feeling slightly moist down there and momentarily thinking I wet myself.
Pushing myself up, I groaned, looking at the spilled lo mein box on the floor. The TV had managed to turn itself off. Most of them tend to have auto shut-off functions in this day and age. I was scarfing shrimp lo mein, binge-watching some old sitcom. There really wasn't much else to do. It was ten in the morning, and I couldn't really sleep all day either. Like, my body literally wouldn't let me.
Cleaning up the lo mein spill, and plopping back on the sofa, I grabbed my phone to see who the hell was bugging me. Nothing important. Probably someone trying to sell me a landline phone or something.
What was I doing with my life now?
The dean had tried to rush my hearing forward, given the long Christmas break was coming. I went, figuring if I was going to be fired, it may as well be on Christmas. You know, for maximum being kicked when I was down.
It didn't happen.
I had walked into the administrative building. I had tried to dress as professional as possible, which meant I had a business skirt on so my poor legs got to freeze to death because uncovered calves in December are apparently professional.
"Ms. Casey, we have strong evidence of you violating Aaronsville University's anti-fraternization regulation." The dean was sitting at his desk. An open room, mostly empty. It felt like I was on trial, even if there weren't any bailiffs or gavels or any of that stuff.
He was there, among some other official looking people. I hadn't been here long enough to get to learn the faculty by name, but most of them were old, white, and trying very hard to look distinguished.
Among them was a friendly face, although it was a stern one at the moment. Professor Hatch.
The dean was the one conducting my 'trial', though. "These photos, procured by the AU Herald, seem like damning evidence, Ms. Casey. It shows you in carnal relations with a well-known student."
"Um, uh..." I tried to smile, but remembered that wasn't professional. "That's... um... uh... not me?"
"It looks very much like you. Same hair color, skin tone, similar, um.... endowments."
I had to blush. I wasn't expecting my breasts to be used as evidence against me. "It's not me, I swear. I don't remember doing any of that." I don't think I had ever told a bigger lie in my life.
"So you expect me to believe that this is some other woman with Trevor Richards, who greatly resembles you?"
"Um.... uh... yeah."
"Ms. Casey, I am offended you are insulting my intelligence."
A chill rolled down my spine from his words, but it wasn't like honesty would have served me much better.
"Is she?" A gruff older voice asked. Hatch.
"Excuse me, Professor?" The dean turned to his fellow on the board.
"Trevor Richards is a very popular student, dean. You should know this. Do you really think it's outside of possibility that someone jealous of him would manufacture a potential scandal?"
"Professor Hatch, the woman in this photos shares a lot of features with Ms. Casey. Are you suggesting she is in on a conspiracy to frame Trevor Richards? I don't know if that's an even worse violation."
Hatch shrugged. "No, not that she's in a conspiracy against Richards, but she's a patsy. I mean no offense to Ms. Casey, but is she really that distinct? There are hundreds of girls enrolled here, all who are around Ms. Casey's age. Likely hundreds more on top of that in the community around us. Do you really think Stephanie Casey is a unique one in a million girl? Not one of those countless other women have similar facial features, skin tone, hair color and style? And as you said, endowments? The photos aren't super up close, so even some of that could be stretched."
The dean was just staring at the Professor like he was mad. "What do you suggest is the origin of these photos then, Professor?"
"Well, as I said, Richards is a very popular student. He has more than his share of affairs and status within his soccer ball team."
How was Professor Hatch so brilliant yet so oblivious to the existence of American football? I shook my head, trying to hide my laughter.
"Maybe it was a jilted lover. Hell, we've all been young before. A breakup can make you slightly crazy. Then you see the target of your affections going out with someone who looks like you? It's easy to jump to plotting revenge. Let's say someone who shares a whole lot of features with Stephanie is this lover. As we know, we all have a type of course, so I wouldn't doubt this. Maybe there's another player on the ball team who is of similar build to Trevor. Maybe they use some makeup. Wigs. We have a very avid theater department, dean."
"We do, but..."
"Why is it so hard to believe than it could be a setup?"
"Professor, you're starting to make me think you're going senile, but I'll humor you. Trevor Richards is a popular student here, yes, but how would they know of Ms. Casey, who just signed onto our faculty's team?"
Hatch leered toward the dean. "You underestimate our students. They pay attention. They talk about the new teachers. One like Ms. Casey would have caught such attention for her age. She's an unknown, on top of someone who could be bought to do such things if they didn't know better."
"So you're convinced this all some grand conspiracy? Why put so much faith in Casey?"
Hatch shrugged. "I was assigned as her direct superior. She has been sitting in on my classes, tutoring Richards, and working very hard. She has been a studious learner, held a 4.0 through her own years at university, and has in her history, been considered a bri
lliant prodigy enough that her high school counselor advised she skip the ninth grade and be placed directly in the tenth to more adequately challenge her skills."
"What does any of that have to do with this case?"
"Ask yourself, why would she throw all of that away for a single man? Has she been playing the long con since she was fourteen years old, thinking she wanted to be a teacher so she could seduce students? She's smarter than that, dean."
Of course I was. Yep. Me. Totally smarter than that. I would never fall madly in love with a guy and fuck him in the middle of a classroom, and doing it unprotected no less.
The dean then turned to me. "Do you have anything to say about this, Ms. Casey?"
"I don't know," I murmured. "I just wanted to teach, okay? I didn't want any of this."
"Right. Does anyone else have something they would like to contribute?"
There was silence among the staff.
"Then we will proceed. As per Aaronsville University Rules and Regulations, we will now vote on the termination of Assistant Professor Stephanie Casey. As such, a majority vote shall determine her fate."
Six of them. A majority vote. An even number. What happened on a tie, I mentally asked?
What was I worried about? Hatch's conspiracy theory wasn't going to convince anyone.
"Professor Hatch, we will start with you, but I believe I know your vote."
"Indeed you do. Nay."
"Professor Colton?"
"The pictures are clear enough, we've convicted on less. Yay."
"Professor Franken?"
"Nay." I damn near pissed myself when I heard that. I looked toward Franken. An older woman, one who had dyed her hair brown to keep it something other than white or gray.
"Nay? What do you mean, Nay?"
"Dean, I'm entitled to privacy on my decision, but I'll indulge you. Look at this girl. She's terrified. I don't see a sexual predator exerting her influence over a poor abused football player of all people, one who has no trouble finding a girl willing to sleep with him no less."