“Yeah, I'm great. I'm really glad to see you in this class.” I patted her forearm and righted myself to guide her towards the doorway. Why am I patting her like a dog? I had to end this, had to escape the awkward conversation before the urge to slip right back into the old habit of spending countless hours just talking to her consumed me. We were safe then – she was my student and I her teacher – but now we were in an entirely different place where the possibilities seemed endless. Endless and exhilarating. While I hadn't put a name to it back then, now I could. Now I recognized it for what it was. Chemistry.
Her eyes darkened for a moment before she composed her expression. “See you tomorrow, Mr. West.” She brushed past me and walked straight out the door.
Mr. West. Jesus. Is that how she thought of me? I guess that’s what she’d always called me, and back then I think we both sensed it would have crossed an invisible line if she'd called me by my first name. Reed. I could only imagine what it would sound like rolling past her lips in that honey-coated voice.
My chest filled with extra beats, I tucked this semester’s books in the drawer at my feet and mused on the upcoming eight weeks. Auburn Lawrence was going to be in my writing class this summer. Things certainly had just become more interesting.
***
I was navigating the bleachers after the first baseball game of the summer when a chorus of giggly voices called out, “Hi, Mr. West!”
A group of freshmen I'd taught last year waved eagerly. “Hi, ladies.” I gave a sober nod as I passed, stepping over stray paper cups and empty cartons of popcorn as I went. Being a mid-twenties, moderately good-looking, male high school teacher had the unfortunate downside of acquiring a small handful of giggly teen admirers. Encountering it still never ceased to unnerve me.
I trailed behind another group of kids and rounded the corner of the last set of bleachers when I knocked into a warm body. “I'm sorry.” I placed a hand on a thin shoulder to steady the stranger. A cascade of shiny, dark hair turned and deep walnut eyes landed on me. “Auburn! Hey again.” It'd only been a few hours since I'd seen her for the first time in three years. Funny how fate was always finding us of late.
“Hi, Mr. West.” Her dark eyes danced, mystifying me, captivating me, dragging me under. “I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you for writing a recommendation for the English department at Central. What you said was amazing,” she finished, peering up at me through dark lashes.
“I meant all of it.” I murmured, my eyes following the soft waves of her hair that brushed at the top swell of her breasts and begged me to drink in the rest of the elegant curves of her form.
Crimson tinted her cheeks a deeper shade before her eyes glanced over my shoulder. I turned to see a guy strolling towards me with an easy smile on his face, lean physique, and a baseball cap pulled low on his head. She smiled awkwardly when he tucked her under his arm.
“This is Jake,” Auburn introduced us, her eyes averted.
“Hey.” I gestured to him. Not that I knew her type, but he didn't seem like it with his khaki shorts and boat shoes. She was so much more thoughtful and creative, while this guy screamed Ivy League prepster with a healthy trust fund. “Well, I've got to get home. Good seeing you, Auburn.” I touched her shoulder as I passed, eyes landing on Jake’s, frozen for seconds. It wasn't intentional, purely instinctual. If Auburn was in the room, my body had a burning desire to touch, feel, connect.
“Hey, Mr. West?”
“Yeah?” I turned.
“I was thinking about that project you assigned today. I’m sort of confounded by it. A twenty-thousand word fictional memoir...” she trailed off, twisting the ends of her hair through her fingers.
“Yeah.” I scratched the stubble on my chin. “I've gotten a few emails about that already. Tell you what, stop by my office tomorrow morning around ten if that works for you and we'll talk it out.” I jumped at the chance to spend time with her again, one on one time, like we used to.
“Ten is great.” She smiled. “Thanks, Mr. West.”
“Anytime. See you tomorrow.” I held her eyes for an extra beat, uncaring if she was tucked under her boyfriend’s arm or not. He raised one eyebrow before I turned and headed for the now dark parking lot. A few kids lingered, talking and laughing as I slid into the love of my life, my freshly painted, medium blue, seventy-one Blazer, and backed out of the dim lot. I drove the darkened, twisting streets towards home as my mind fell back to a time early this spring when I knew life had other plans for me...
It had been uncharacteristically warm for mid-April and the rain showers of early spring were finally yielding fragrant, richly-colored blooms on trees and in gardens. Sweat had trickled down my forehead as I watched her flicking through her phone, perched in a lounge chair, chatting mindlessly and filling the air with white noise in the form of local gossip.