Teacher

by Ella Emerson

  Before I could even react, my father punched him in the face. Mark laughed, and I shot him an evil glare. He ended up leaving as Mrs. Allen asked to see my father and I in her office.

  I glanced once more at Levi as he left the office, holding his cheek.

  Fuck, this was bad.

  I was nothing but a bundle of nerves as I sat in the chair across from Mrs. Allen’s desk. She had framed pictures of a blond-haired little boy on a swing set, and I kept my attention focused on the pale blue eyes of the innocent child.

  Innocence, mine was now gone. I was just as guilty as Levi, and I was willing to face my punishment.

  Although when the meeting started, I felt like a child again.

  “Trish, we’re so sorry about Mr. Wild’s actions toward you. You should have come to me or your father the moment Mr. Wild started pursuing you.” Mrs. Allen’s grayish bun was tight on the top of her head, making her face seem more pronounced and tight.

  “What are you going to do about this? I want criminal charges pressed against that prick.” My father clenched his fist together in his hands, rubbing the sore knuckles he probably had from punching Levi.

  “This isn’t entirely his fault. I’m an adult, Daddy.” I tried to speak louder, yet my voice faltered.

  “Trish, don’t be ridiculous. He used you,” my father said.

  Mrs. Allen pinched the bridge of her nose as she drew in a deep breath. “Actually she’s right. Because she is of age, things need to be handled with finesse.”

  “What are you saying? I sure hope he loses his teacher’s license for this. He shouldn’t be allowed to teach ever again.”

  “Believe me, Mr. Wild will never teach again.”

  My heart broke at Mrs. Allen’s words as I focused back on the child in the photograph. Levi loved his job, and I wondered what he would do now.

  I thought back to his conversation about how he would be going home after the school year and prayed he would have something else lined up.

  “Good, but what about my daughter? Will she still be allowed to graduate?”

  “Of course. We feel horrible about this.”

  “You should,” My father’s voice boomed.

  “Yes, now we need to talk about the press this is going to receive. I would like to keep this out of the media,” Mrs. Allen said with pleading eyes.

  “You want this swept under the rug?” My father’s tone was furious as he glared to the principal.

  “Well…” she drew out.

  My father stood from his chair as he turned toward the door. “I’m too mad to think right now. I will let you know if I want to press charges, though.”

  “But, Dad,” I begged. “I’m eighteen.”

  “Enough. Grab your things, Trish.”

  “Mr. Tess, please reconsider what this could all change. Trish’s name would be tarnished. The school, town, your practice. The fact Trish was having an affair with her teacher while living under your roof.”

  My father spun around. “Don’t even try to make this out as it’s my fault. Let’s go, Trish.”

  I felt like I was ripping at the seams, being torn between my father and Levi. I wanted more than anything to see him.

  I followed my father out of the school, even though the day wasn’t over.

  “Follow me straight home,” he said as we made it into the parking lot.

  I hopped in my car and picked up my phone. Dialing Levi’s number as I pulled from the school, it just rang and rang. I left him a message to call me, but I needed to see him.

  I followed my father into the driveway with my heart in my throat as to what was coming from him. But, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about Levi.

  Inside the house, my father grunted and I tried to rush to my room.

  “Take a seat, Trish,” He said before I could make it very far.

  I sat there waiting for the wrath of my father which never came.

  “I’m disappointed in you, young lady. How did you two even get involved?”

  “Dad, it wasn’t his fault. He tried hard to fight it. But, I love him,” I spoke, barely above a whisper.

  “Love? Please, Trish, you’re only eighteen.” His eyes were hardened after years of work and suffering from the pain my mother had left him with.

  “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I don’t know what love is. You and Mom were both seventeen when you fell in love.”

  “Yeah, a lot of good that did,” he said, shaking his head as he sat in his leather chair.

  “Dad, I love him and I think he loves me. But, please just let me make my own mistakes. I’m just as much at fault here as he is. Please.” Tears formed in my eyes as I stared up to the popcorn ceiling of the living room, praying they wouldn’t fall.

  “Trish, go to your room. We can discuss this later after I’ve thought about it for a while,” he said, dismissing me.

  I opened my bedroom door and flung myself onto my four-poster bed. I cried for a minute until I grabbed my phone, trying Levi’s number once more.

  When he didn’t answer I dialed Kerrie’s number. We talked for a while as I recounted the story for her. She was shocked to say the least, but she understood where I was coming from.

  When the lights were out and my father had most likely gone to bed, I slipped down downstairs and out the front doors.

  Starting my car, begging it to be as quiet as possible, I headed off into the night to see the one person I needed more than anything.

  I pulled up to his apartment and could see his light was still on. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I didn’t know what to say to him as I knocked on his door, but knew he would have some answers.

  He answered and appeared worse for wear. His dark hair looked like he’d ran his hands through it more than once. Dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt which hung open, showing off his six-pack, he sighed.

  “Trish, you shouldn’t be here,” he said as he opened the door for me to enter.

  His eyes were sad, and he appeared just as lost as I felt.

  “Levi, I had to see you.”

  He shut the door and latched it as he stepped closer. “Fuck, this is bad.”

  I rushed to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Levi, Mrs. Allen said you were leaving. Where are you going?”

  “Home.” His answer was short, his tone clipped.

  He grabbed my hands, removing my arms from around him. I glanced around his apartment for the first time since I’d entered. Papers were thrown all around his desk, and his laptop was opened blinking on a document he was working on.

  I stepped closer when one word from the screen caught my attention: ‘Student’.

  Without thinking, I moved closer as Levi tried to block my advances. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing, Trish, you need to leave.”

  I stared at the screen as I read the words, ‘Seducing the Student; One teacher’s erotic tale of how he made a student fall at his feet.’

  I continued reading about a man who taught at a small high school in a tiny town in Georgia. It was only a few paragraphs, but it depicted our first meeting in the coffee shop, it told of how he came onto me at school. . The name on the document appeared familiar. Spencer Prescott.

  “Spencer Prescott? The man who wrote that Alexandra Godfrey story?”

  “I can explain,” he said, slamming his laptop shut.

  “I’m listening.” Although my heart thumped through my ears at a rapid pace, I wasn’t sure I could hear anything.

  “I’m an author. When I went to the meeting with my publishers and agent in New York, I had nothing. I hadn’t written a story since the Taming of Alexandra Godfrey which published two years ago. My manager and I got to talking about the teaching job, and well, we started talking about you and he gave me the idea. And, well…so I’ll be leaving Georgia tomorrow.” His eyes grew darker as he spoke and tears welled in my eyes.

  “You used me?”

  “At first, listen Trish.
It’s not like that. I needed a story. I had nothing, and my manager felt…I don’t know.” He held his arms out to me as I backed away.

  “You used me?” I asked again, letting the implications roll around in my head.

  “Please let me explain. At first…”

  I cut him off before he could finish, suddenly feeling sick and lightheaded. I needed air, to escape his home and breathe.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I said as he tried to wrap his arms around me. “And don’t fucking touch me.”

  He stopped when I yelled at him, frozen in place. His eyes were huge like saucers, and I was suffocating under his hard stare.

  My world was crashing all around me, I’d been so stupid. A naïve little girl who believed in this man before me.

  “Lesson learned, teacher, thank you so much for teaching me all about the subject of lies and manipulation.” I ran from his apartment, slamming the door on my way out.

  I couldn’t hear him calling after me. I sped off as he made it to the parking lot and stood just outside my car.

  ***

  It was Autumn in New York City and I was living in Murray Hill in an apartment with Kerrie attending Columbia. Four months had passed since I left high school and my father finally cooled down about everything and began treating me as an adult.

  I kept my head down through all the gossip and scrutiny which followed after the scandal of Mr. Wild and the affair we had.

  The drama finally died down, but not soon enough.

  Even now many miles away, I still thought about him often. Nights were the worst. I wasn’t supposed to be fantasizing about my teacher, yet that was all I found myself doing late at night. Levi had ruined me, and I couldn’t get his soft touch and strong body out of my head. His voice was on repeat in my mind as he told me over and over how beautiful I was as he came inside me.

  As I got ready for my first class, Kerrie opened the door to my bedroom.

  “Hey, have fun at class. I can’t believe I’m starting NYU.”

  “I know, I’m so proud of you. How’s Hunter?” I asked as I grabbed my books and put them into my bag.

  “He’s good, he will be up to visit soon,” she said with a smile.

  “How was your first day of school?” She had started school a day before me and was already up to her eyeballs in homework.

  “Good, my professor is a hot asshole who gets his kicks off by working us to death. First day of school and he had so much work for us.”

  “So he’s hot, huh?”

  She blushed and then shook her head. “Yeah, if you’re into the antichrist who likes torturing his students.”

  “Sounds fun. Okay, I have to go. I don’t want to be late. Do you have class later?”

  “Yeah, I’m headed out now.”

  I said my goodbyes and headed out the door. I took the subway to the Morningside Heights part of Manhattan where the university was located. As I walked through the streets and breathed in the crisp, cool autumn air of New York I noticed a bookstore window display. Front and center was the book, ‘Seducing A Student’ by Spencer Prescott, Levi’s pen name.

  The cover showed a blonde-haired girl as she appeared sad and lost. I huffed loudly as I kept on walking.

  All through my classes I kept thinking about the book and what Levi had written. Did I even want to read about our time together? No, I didn’t. It was my past, and I wouldn’t let it affect my future.

  After a grueling day of classes, I strolled by the bookstore on my way home and decided to step inside.

  The book intrigued me, it called to me, yet I was unsure if I would ever read it.

  I plucked a copy from the shelf and flipped it over to read about the author.

  Spencer Prescott resides in New York and enjoys his life of reading, cycling, and working out. He hails from Chicago where he graduated top of his class from Northeastern.

  A literary master as the New York Times calls him a fresh voice for his generation.

  I held the book to my chest as I thought about the Levi I didn’t even know. Had it all been lies?

  I stood there, debating on purchasing the book and finally felt I would forever regret it if I didn’t.

  I brought the book to the counter and handed it over to a middle-aged woman with brown curly hair.

  “You’re going to love this book. One of my favorites. So good,” she said as she rang it up.

  “Sure,” I said. I had no words left in me and didn’t even know if I would read his book.

  “It’s so different from his other book Taming Alexandra Godfrey. This one is such a touching, heartfelt story.”

  My ears perked up. Did she not read the end? Because I had lived the ending and knew all too well how un-touching it really was.

  As I sat on the subway, I thumbed through the book to be sure he didn’t use my real name and laughed when I saw the characters were named Trina and Liam.

  When I got home to an empty apartment, I flopped on the couch and decided to read one page, then I could shut the book and never open it again, putting it in the past with my whole high school experience with him.

  Walking into the Terri’s Book Store, I was greeted immediately by Terri herself. “Mr. Prescott, we are so honored to have you signing here today. I’ve set up a table in the back for you, but if you’d like it moved I will have my staff do so,” she said, bouncing with excitement.

  Since the release of Seducing a Student, the popularity I had gained was hard to believe. I never thought that this book would be so sought-after. I was still trying to wrap my head around it all. I was also still trying to get used to the fact that everyone thought my name was Spencer Prescott. Even though it had been my pen name since I started writing, I didn’t have the fame I had now, so no one knew me as an actual person. Now anytime I met a fan I was greeted by the pen name that still hurt to hear, reminding me of the way it fell off of Trish’s lips the last time I saw her.

  Terri blushed when I smiled at her. “No, the table is fine exactly where it is.”

  She nodded her head and told me to follow her. Once we reached the table I was surprised by the amount of room. She had kept it separated from the book shelves and that would make it easier for me to sign copies and for the line I was sure was coming, to stand. Not needing to bring any books considering the bookstore wanted to sell them, made things so easy. I only had my author banner and some bookmarks to set out.

  “Do you need help with anything? Can I get you anything,” Terri asked.

  “I’m fine, thanks. What time do you expect readers to start getting here,” I asked as I set up my author banner.

  “The signing doesn’t start until three, but honestly I expect them any second,” she said pulling a piece of lint off the green tablecloth. “I’ll let you set up, but if you need anything just holler.” I thanked her and sat down making sure everything was perfect.

  Flipping my copy of Seducing the Student in my hand I looked at the cover. I tried my hardest to find a model that looked like Trish, but there was no one as beautiful as her. That was why I decided to have the hair masking her face some. This book was about Trish and if it was possible, I would’ve had her gracing the cover.

  There hadn’t been a day gone by since she peeled out of my apartment complex back in Georgia that I hadn’t thought about her. Not when I wrote this book, not when I moved to my loft in New York, not when I became a huge success. I often thought of how she was doing and how college was for her. I wondered where she decided to go and hoped that her father didn’t hold her back because of me.

  One of the hardest things I ever had to do was let her go. There had been so many times that I wanted to contact her, find where she was. I dialed her number more times than I could count, but never hit call. I wanted to drive around Georgia, New York, and Michigan hoping to I’d be lucky enough to see her. I didn’t do it though, I stayed away, because the look on her face the last time I saw her was pure pain. And the last thing I wanted to do was cause her any
more pain. Not to mention I had a feeling her father would not forget his threat anytime soon. For all I knew she had met someone and was living her happily ever after. It was just something I had to accept, I wasn’t sure how just yet.

  I could say I regretted everything that happened. That being kicked out of that school and publicly humiliated made me remorseful, but it didn’t. If I had the chance to go back and do it all again, I would in a heartbeat. I learned more in those few months of being a teacher than I ever had about myself. I experienced things I never would have if I wasn’t lucky enough to be given the chance to step in a teachers’ shoes. My heart would never beat the same, but I still wouldn’t change it. When I moved to New York the only thing I did was write. It was the only way to express everything I felt, to get it all out.

  Hearing the volume of talk getting louder pulled me out of thoughts I found myself having every day, made me realize the readers were starting to line up. I was shocked by the amount of people who came to my first signing. Even the different ages of men and women who pushed and shoved to get to the front of the line surprised me. At each signing, I thought I saw Trish in the crowd. Every. Single. Time. Just when I started to feel my pulse pick up the woman would turn and I’d realize it wasn’t her, and it crushed me all over again. That was the only downside to these signings.

  Terri walked over with a huge smile on her face. “I hope you’re ready because we’ve got a mob up front.” I chuckled and she dropped her smile for a moment before realizing she’s eye fucking me. I’d heard from hundreds of fans that they pictured me as the teacher in the book and even though they were right, I’d never tell them. The way Terri reacted to me told me that she pictured me as the teacher as well. She rapidly blinked and smiled again. “Sorry. So anyway, if you wouldn’t mind maybe we can start a little early, considering the crowd?”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” I said. She hurried out front to make the announcement that I would begin signing now.

  For the next two hours it was a non-stop flow of people. They all took pictures, hugged me, tried to kiss me. Some even had me write dirty things to them in their books. Hell, I was here to give them what they wanted. The fans made me laugh, kept me humble, and I was so grateful for each of them.