The Teacher

  THE TEACHER (His Dark Lessons, Part Two)

  Ava Claire

  Copyright 2012 Ava Claire

  ****

  I flashed my umpteenth smile as I hugged another surprise visitor. I saved the real thing for Alicia, even though she was the reason I had to put on a brave face for all these random people. Just what the doctor ordered—an intervention masquerading as a dinner party.

  Half of the girls she invited hadn’t even bothered with so much as a Facebook wall post when my father died and the others were really just friends by association. Apparently all it took was deli spirals and mini cocktails to get the condolences flowing.

  I disengaged from some girl named Sophie who called me Cass like we were BFF’s even though we’d only taken a biology class together a year ago and turned toward the kitchen. I drew a deep breath before refilling my wine glass and throwing it back like a shooter. It was just in time too because some Delta Phi girl let out a squeal as she shared the best idea yet—a party game.

  Alicia pulled up beside me, toying with a napkin. She kept dodging my gaze, which was her tell. She knew she was in trouble.

  “This is a great turn-out, right?” she said brightly, molars and all.

  “Uh huh,” I said warily. “Funny thing is, I thought it was just going to be the two of us grabbing Cookout and vegging out in front of the TV.”

  “And we will totally just hang out—right after a round of Apples to Apples.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “I really just want to go home, Alicia. I don’t know most of these people and the last thing I want-”

  “I know you haven’t been out since we went clubbing after we finished finals. Right before…” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks were rosy with what she didn’t say. It had taken me all summer to finally admit he was gone. I could say it out loud now but it still wasn’t any easier to digest.

  I wanted to be mad at her, but one of the reasons she was my best friend was because she knew me better than I knew myself. She’d offered me some time away after I lost my dad, even though she knew I’d pass, and she’d set this up because she knew it was the only way I’d be around other human beings outside of class. As much as I dreaded awkward smiles and playing games, I needed it more than sitting at home alone.

  “This was a horrible idea, wasn’t it?” she said gravely, her pretty features souring as one of her friends called out for us to join them. “I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.”

  “It’s okay, Alicia,” I said softly, ignoring the tiny voice in my head that said the road to hell was paved with good intentions. “I appreciate it.”

  We walked to the den where the other girls were fixed in a circle as one of them, I think her name was Lauren, unloaded the game from the box. She winked up at me. “Wanna judge the first round, Cassandra?”

  I arched a brow, surprised someone actually brought a board game. "Apples to Apples? Really?"

  It seemed impossible that Apples to Apples could be the cause of the fever pitch of excitement that built around us. Even if I was feeling sociable, playing that game would be the absolute last thing on my to-do list.

  Alicia's voice rose over the clamor. "Maybe we should just hang out..."

  Sophia's head perked up, a pout on her squirrely face. "But party games-"

  "How about truth or dare?" Delta Phi grinned from ear to ear.

  We officially reverted back to the third grade. Everyone else was nodding like it was sheer genius and even Alicia was mulling it over.

  I conceded, tugging a side of my mouth upward half-heartedly. "Sounds like fun."

  I tried to tell myself it would be as they began going around the circle. It could be. I really did need a bit of escapism. A few minutes where I was too busy holding my smile and rolling my eyes to think about Chance's piercing eyes. Or how right his hands felt on me.

  I blushed when all eyes turned toward me. I guess it was my turn. Even though the dares were mostly harmless tasks like taking a shot or singing some silly song, I decided to go with truth.

  Sophia rubbed her hands together with barely contained glee. She didn't even wait for someone else to quiz me. "Is it true that you and Blaine Connolly ended things last semester because he still hung up on his ex?”

  I frowned, immediately seeing right through her eerily specific question. I realized I didn’t remember her from Biology at all. Blaine and I'd only dated for a blink of an eye but he did seem hung up on an ex—but not for the smug reason that glittered in Sophia’s eyes. He claimed she ended up being crazy obsessed and because he cared about her once, he humored her. When we broke up, I'd claimed the baggage was too heavy to bear, but the truth was I had a crapload of my own.

  All roads led back to Chance. Even some stupid truth or dare game.

  "Yeah that's why we broke up," I answered with a shrug. I turned to Alicia, ready for the spotlight to be on someone else.

  Alicia cleared her throat, cutting through the awkward silence as the other girls looked at me and Sophie, weaving some fictional showdown. If they only knew of the real, flesh and blood affair I was having with the new English professor...

  I barely moved as Alicia quickly ushered them out, citing some exam or last minute assignment. She was met with a chorus of disapproval but they filed out one by one, trying to plot out some location they could relocate the party to.

  Once Alicia and I were alone, she gave me a conciliatory sigh. "I swear to god I didn't know Sophie dated Blaine."

  I gave another shrug. "It's no biggie. I'm not secretly still pining for him or anything."

  Her blond brows drew together in confusion. "But you went really quiet. Like you were sad about something."

  I busied myself with gathering trash from the coffee table. I was sad about something but it was more that Blaine Connolly and every guy I'd dated since had just been placeholders, distractions from a truth I couldn't escape. No one else compared. No one else could reduce me to a puddle on the floor. No one else hurt me so deeply...and there was no one else I wanted to forgive and start over with more.

  It was all insane. Insane that he was back in my life. Insane that I let him in. Insane that all it took was a ‘come hither’ glance and it was as effortless as breathing to do the thing he’d asked me to do three years ago: submit.

  “That wasn’t horrible?” Alicia asked skeptically.

  “Nah,” I said with a noncommittal shrug. “It wasn’t that bad once people were more concerned with the next dare instead of pretending they cared about my dad.” I bit my lip, realizing my internal filter was faulty and my bitterness was showing.

  Alicia let out a groan, gripping her hair with both hands. “I’m like, the world’s worst best friend. Ever.”

  “Absolutely,” I smirked. “But I still love you.”

  When she gave me an unconvinced look, I looped my arm through hers and tugged her back toward the living room. “How about I give you a hand cleaning up all of this stuff?”

  Alicia turned on her iPod and we went to work, some bubblegum pop singer belting out a song about love and love lost. I tried to focus on rounding up the Dixie cups and plastic cocktail plates, but I kept seeing Chance’s face. That mischievous smirk. Those hooded eyes. His dark locks, wild and unruly. Gooseflesh spread over me at the memory of his touch, bringing back the imprint of what we were. Every caress confirmed the secret I kept took away all these years.

  I’d never gotten over him at all.

  “Are you okay?”

  I blinked, shaking off the memory as I crushed a stack of cups in my hand. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

  “Zoned out? You were standing there, not moving a muscle for like, five minutes.” Alicia crossed her arms. “That’s a little more than being a little out of it.”

  I bree
zed past her, swatting away her questions. She’d never been on Team Cass and Chance. As much as I wanted to lay it out and get some confirmation of how big a mistake getting involved with him again was, I didn’t want to deal with Alicia’s brand of tough love.

  When Alicia and I met freshman year, I’d been a mess. It was my first taste of freedom and to say I was making up for eighteen years of being my parent’s model daughter was an understatement. It was almost mid-term when we were paired together for a project and I was barely scraping by in every class on my schedule. But Alicia demanded more of me, saying that she’d be ‘damned if she didn’t get an A in World History because the English Princess decided to show her parents she was all grown up’. She showed me that I could still have fun and not flunk out. She didn’t take crap from me and helped me pull my C’s and D’s to A’s and B’s.

  Just like my dad, she gave it to me straight, writing off Chance from the start. She thought he was an opportunist, even though Chance never tried to talk to my dad about his writing or connections. She was right about one thing though. He broke my heart.

  “What’s really going on, Cass?” she probed.

  I stuffed the plastic bundle in the trash then plopped on one of the stools. “I’m just tired from classes and everything.”

  “Oh that’s right!” Alicia exclaimed, sliding onto one of the stools a few feet from me. “You’re taking that hardcore lit class with Dr. Madison, right?”

  I toyed with a lock of hair. “Yeah, classes have been crazy.” Not exactly a lie.

  Alicia drummed her nails on the granite top of the island. “I know you were looking forward to it, Cass.” She gave me a smile that made guilt swirl in my stomach. “Busy is good. Especially if you’re busy with something you love.”

  I gave her a weak chuckle. I’d been busy alright. Busy with someone I used to love more than anything. But now there were just secrets, suspicions and guilt raging in my chest. Guilt was slowly eating me alive, forcing my hand. How could I not tell my best friend, the one person I was supposed to share everything with?

  “Chance is back and I think I’m still in love with him.” It came out in a single, blunted confession. It was like pulling teeth to actually say it out loud and when Alicia’s face scrunched in confusion, I took a deep breath and prepared to say it again. “I said-”

  “Oh I heard you,” she said quietly. “Chance is back?”

  I nodded. “And he’s, uh, teaching.” I swallowed. “Teaching at Thomas.”

  Her bright blue eyes nearly bulged from her head. “Say what?”

  “He’s a professor now.” I paused, preparing myself for hysterics when she heard the kicker. “And teaching British Lit.”

  Alicia hopped from the stool, shock replaced by her signature steely determination. “You dropped the class though, right?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Cassandra Eloise Woods!” she shrilled. “Are you insane?!”

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder, trying for nonchalance. “Why should I drop a class I’ve been looking forward to since I was a freshman?”

  “Because it’s being taught by a man that you’ve been carrying a torch for since he broke your hear!”

  “I haven’t been carrying a torch for Chance,” I said defensively.

  “Uh huh,” she said with an eye roll. “That’s why every guy you’ve dated since has been some frat boy type—the absolute polar opposite of Chance.”

  “That’s not true.” I jutted out my lip. “Blaine was an English major and-”

  “He barely lasted two weeks,” she cut in, rising to every inch of her 5’5 frame, hand on hip. “This has to be stopped before it has even begun, Cassandra. Chance Crawford is toxic.”

  I bit my lip, tracing figure eights on the countertop. “It may be too late.”

  “Too late?” When I looked her dead on, her face fell. “You didn’t!”

  “Well we didn’t have sex,” I offered pathetically. But the truth slashed right through that—it was game over as soon as we kissed.

  “I…” Alicia closed her eyes and drew some deep breaths before she walked over to her dad’s liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

  Without another word I went to the fridge and swiped the OJ. She put down the cups and poured the alcohol in and I filled the first the rest of the way with juice before moving to the second.

  “Light on the juice for me,” she said, stopping me mid pour.

  I smiled, giving her a dollop and sliding it over to her.

  She took one of the cups and brought it to her lips. “No smiling. You’re in trouble.”

  “You have no idea.” I winced as I took a swallow of the strong drink.

  “I mean, do you have amnesia?” She ogled me, like she was searching for some sign of a screw loose. “Have you forgotten what he did to you?”

  “Of course not,” I fired back. “I can’t even look at him without remembering that night.”

  “Then how could you ever let him back in?” She threw both arms up. “I just don’t get it, Cass!”

  My mouth popped open, a retort hot on my tongue that would surely clear that right up…but it would also hurt her. Because as pretty and popular as Alicia was, none of her relationships lasted long enough for anyone to get hurt.

  I sipped my drink in silence, perking when my cell vibrated in my pocket. Even a text from my mother would be enough to excuse myself and postpone any further judgment.

  But the text was from him.

  Can I see you tonight?

  Almost as if he could sense my hesitation, another zipped in to join the first.

  I can’t stop thinking about you, Cass. How beautiful u r, how wet u were…

  Those three dots and unsaid words were enough to make me squirm, warmth flooding me as images and feelings flashed through my mind.

  Alicia was watching me with suspicion so I gave her a tight smile and lied. “It’s just my mom. I should probably go.”

  I grabbed my bag and plunked out a response on my way out the door.

  Okay.

  ****

  I put my car in park, peering out at the building in shock. I wish I could say it was because I'd ignored the voice in my head that sung in unison with Alicia's, saying I was crazy for doing anything except deleting Chance's text, but it had little to do with my lapse in judgment and a lot to do with Chance’s place.

  When we met, he lived in a studio apartment a couple of miles from the university in the affectionately coined 'Hipster's Quarter'. We spent hours out on his stoop, watching bearded guys in suspenders, girls in head to toe vintage minus their chunky eye glasses, and a wide variety of soccer moms frequenting the yoga place across the street that became ground zero for drum circles after dark. There was a quiet charm about it; about his simple studio nestled between college and the two piece suit mentality downtown.

  There was no in between about his apartment building now. It was all brick and metal like every other building that lined 18th street. Just like every other building downtown.

  I killed the engine but went no further, apprehension gluing me to my seat. Since I saw Chance perched on the edge of the desk two weeks ago, all these old feelings made falling back in his arms was as effortless as breathing. I couldn't even hold onto my hate and anger when the sparks between us engulfed everything else. But seeing this place was odd. Foreign. It was a reminder that time passed and in all of those minutes, days, and years, the brooding guy that was all about less is more now lived in a building that reeked of excess.

  "What the hell are you doing, Cass?" I said, my hollow condemnation echoing around me.

  My phone rattled in my purse and the way I lurched to it, knowing it was him, was all the answer I needed.

  I can see u. Do I need 2 come down there?

  Nope, I plunked out. There were so many things I wanted to say. Feelings coursed through me like wildfire, keeping me locked in the car at a safe distance. I knew I should drive away. Hell, I shouldn't have c
ome at all.

  My phone flashed angrily in the dark. Don't make me come down there.

  The undercurrent of his words sent a shiver down my spine. Would he really come down here and drag me back to his apartment kicking and screaming?

  I shivered again, but it was heat that rushed over me at the thought of his hands on me. Heat simmered in that part of me that didn't know better. The part that starved for him.

  I stepped out of the car and shut the door, putting one foot in front of the other, barely glancing at traffic before I jaywalked to the sidewalk in front of his building. I hadn't been thinking when I told him yes and it wouldn't do me any good now. Not when I'd already made up my mind.

  I snickered as I cycled through the revolving door (a revolving door? Really?!) but my bemusement shifted to awe when I took in the lobby. It was a beautiful and resonant, the lighting soft and romantic. Instead of hoity toity furnishings there were warm, rattan armchairs that begged for one to curl up with a good book.

  "Ahem."

  I whirled to face the interruption and my heart jumped to my throat. I could tell Chance had just hopped out of the shower from the dewy gloss of his skin. His shaggy hair was slicked back, drawing the eye to his strong jawline. But it was the shirt he wore that took my breath away. It was probably black once upon a time, but years of love and washing and drying turned it a deep gray. The neck of it was stretched out, speckled with the white cotton peeking out. The blocked, white acrylic letters spelled out 'Ramones' despite the cracks weaving through, like tiny cuts slicing through any attempt at forgetting what happened between us. Even though his arms were down, I could feel the airy holes in the armpit; feel the warmth of it against my skin and falling into his spicy scent. And then I was back there, seeing him in the shirt he'd worn the day we met, the shirt I'd pulled on many a morning while I burned bacon and made eggs with bits of shell scrambled in—and the shirt he was wrapped in as that bitch's mouth was wrapped around his cock.

  I felt the tears burning in my throat but I swallowed them, taking a step backward. His face creased in confusion but he glanced down and when he looked back up, his eyes were pained.