by Ava Harrison
Some. Not one hundred percent.
I pretty much know what I’ll have to do. I put down my pen. Unless . . . Maybe I can state my case, explain what happened, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a different solution. Yeah, maybe this could work out.
Four hours later I realize it was stupid to hope. After briefly describing the ordeal between Lynn and myself and the threat from Matthew, I’m not hopeful about my prospects for a better solution. I find myself growing angry at my own stupidity.
“As I see it, you have a choice,” Barry says, leaning over his desk. Do I really have a choice?
“And what choice is that?” I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I can’t lose my temper. I need to make the best of this fucking crappy situation, even if that means fisting my palms under the table so he can’t see how pissed I am.
“You can resign.”
“Or.” I huff and he in turn releases a long drawn out sigh.
“I can fire you.” His brows draw together and I can tell he’s not happy with the prospect of that.
“No other options?”
“Listen, Carson. I like you. I have seen how much you have grown. Hell, I’ve known you since you were a boy and studying here. You’ve changed a lot, but you still have some deep-seated anger issues. Running—and yes, I know you run—might channel some of the negative energies that you have, but you still have anger issues you haven’t addressed. To be frank, hearing about your fight with Matthew makes you a liability to the student and staff.”
“I would never hurt—”
“Yes. Carson, I know you think that. Personally, I know it too, but will the parents? All the parents will hear is that you beat up a former student, and worse than that if he goes public. And I’m not sure he won’t. You’re carrying on an affair with a student. I understand she’s nineteen now. Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Honestly, you are lucky we aren’t a public school. Regardless that the evidence in the picture isn’t overly damning, the two together don’t look good. If we were a public school, I’d be forced to press charges.”
“So, that’s my only choice? I’m fucked and without a job either way.” He grimaces at my choice of words but in the end, reluctantly nods. I knew the chances were slim to none. “Well, I guess there’s nothing more I can say. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to work for you. Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’ll never forget all you’ve done. Unfortunately, I don’t think Cranbrook is a good fit for me anymore. I will be tendering my resignation by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“I wish you all the best in the world, Carson, and if you need anything . . . A letter of reference—”
“I won’t.” He nods and I feel bad for being so candid. But why pretend anything other than the truth. I’ll never teach again.
“What will you do?”
“I’m not sure.” And I’m not. What I do know, though, is I have time to think. What do I really want to do with my life? I have to figure out this shit. Running is just a Band-Aid.
First thing I need to do is tell Lynn I’ll no longer be teaching; second thing is fix my shit. It’s not fair to her that I’m a ticking time bomb. I saw the look in her eyes when I fought with Matt the first time.
It doesn’t take long to arrive at my apartment. When I open the door and step inside, I find Lynn curled on the couch. She smiles up at me and I hate that in the next few minutes she won’t be. My gaze travels up her body until our eyes meet.
Those eyes. God, what those eyes do to me. I can’t stop myself, and my hand has a mind of its own. Without freewill I walk over to Lynn and pull her into my embrace. My hand desperately grabs her neck, bringing my lips to hers.
She giggles against my mouth, but I don’t stop the thrusts of my tongue. She pulls away and I want to scream no, but instead, I attach my mouth to her neck and start sucking.
“Carson.” Lick. “Carson.” Lick. “Carson!” Her voice is more forceful, and this time her small hands rest on my chest and push me away.
Reluctantly, at least on my part, we separate. I don’t apologize. Instead we gaze at each other, getting our breaths back.
Neither of us speaks.
She lets out a deep breath. “What’s going on?” I shrug. “Come on. I’m not dumb. I can see something happened. The restless energy is pouring out of you. Just tell me.”
“I resigned.”
“What!”
“Matt was planning to tell Principal Gordon about us and . . .” I trail off, realizing she might get mad about what I’m about to say. “And I punched him.”
“So what? I thought he knew you were defending me.” I look away. My eyes skate the distance of the room, looking at the future. Looking everywhere but at her.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“He wasn’t talking about that time.”
“Wh-Wh-” She pauses to collect her thoughts, deciphering what I just said. “There was another time?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
I jump to my feet to pass her, moving away from her completely. Each step made me want to go for a run. I need to tell her, but how will she react? Shit. I don’t know what to do. So I pace.
Back and forth.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispers and my heart tugs in my chest.
“Matt came to me.”
“And—”
“He had a picture of us.” Her mouth drops open, her blue eyes so wide all I can see is the black of her dilated pupils.
“Before I go on, I need you to know, it wasn’t graphic. Hell, it wasn’t even that damning.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is how I reacted. I decked him when he told me to end things or he’d show it to the school. The picture alone wouldn’t be enough. But the picture combined with my violent track record would. The board would have fired me.”
“Now what?”
“This way I don’t run the risk of this damaging either of us. If the picture leaks, we can spin it that we didn’t get together until after I left. That I left to pursue a relationship with you. Yeah, socially we might be ostracized, but they can’t press charges.”
“But I’m nineteen.”
“It doesn’t matter, Lynn.”
“This is all my fault. You lost your job because of me.”
“No.” I move toward her and tip her head upward, swiping at the tear sliding down her face. “This isn’t your fault. I knew the consequences. I knew the risk. You’re worth it. Do you understand me? Even knowing what happened, I would make the same decision again.”
“So, will they press charges?”
“No. There is really no evidence, and as it’s a private school, they don’t follow the same rules as public. With this limited evidence, they run the risk that I could countersue. Instead, Principal Gordon and I came to the decision that the best course of action for all parties is that I resign.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Listen. This is a good thing. I became a teacher to help kids, to give them guidance, but maybe I can do that some other way. I’ll find something I can do.”
“What about the money?”
“I own my apartment, and between the trust fund I received when I turned twenty-two and my savings, I’ll be okay. This sabbatical will give me time to fix some personal shit, too.”
Her brows lowered. “Personal shit?”
“Not you.”
“Then what? Carson, I think you need to see someone. One thing I learned from my mandatory appointments with the school therapist is sometimes distraction isn’t enough. You spend so much time channeling your feelings through running and through teaching, and you’ve done a great job, but you still have deep rooted issues. If not therapy or classes, maybe the first step can be a group meeting or something. They have to have something, like AA.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll find help.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I promise I will look into talking to someone. But, Lynn, it’s been a long day. Can we—”
“Yeah. We can,” she said, pulling me to her and burrowing her head in the crook of my neck.
I don’t bother to say anything else, instead just bring her mouth to mine while pulling down her pants. I don’t even bother with my own clothes.
Just unzip.
Free myself.
We fall to the floor with a soft thud, and then I grab her and position her above my waiting hips, slamming her down. With each move of our bodies, I pick up the pace. Her panting becomes louder and louder, as I pump in and out.
“Carson . . .” she groans.
“Fuck.”
I lift my hips again, and then wrap my arms around her, flipping her beneath me so I have control.
I continue to pump in and out at a punishing pace. My hips slam into hers. Her body tightens like a vise at the new angle, her whole body seizing around me, gripping me until that’s all it takes to send me over the edge.
“Damn,” I mutter out against her neck. She laughs.
This right here makes up for all the earlier bullshit. This right here is perfect.
YESTERDAY WAS AWFUL. CARSON LOST his job. Well, technically resigned. I wasn’t sure if I would see him today, but when I was walking down the hallway, there he was. It took my breath away, but not in a good way. It gutted me. He looked so wounded, so hollow. As though the spark in his eyes was gone. As though he had been through a battle and then lost the war. Seeing someone you care about look like that, well, it cuts deep. Especially when you know you’re to blame, or at least partially. Even though there is nothing I can do to fix this situation, it still feels horribly wrong for me to walk through the halls as if nothing changed, when in truth everything has.
With everything going on today, Carson is staying late at school so I’m by myself at home. Luckily for me, my mom is not here. I’m not sure where she is, but I’m not questioning it. Just enjoying the peace and tranquility her absence brings. Lying on my bed, I pull out my computer to sort through my PMs on Facebook when I hear a pounding on the door. I check the time on the clock. Nine o’clock. Who the heck is knocking so late? Normally, I wouldn’t care, but life has been kicking my ass.
Walking out in the hall, I peer into my mom’s room. The door is wide open and she’s still not there. She’s probably out for the night. Maybe she met a new man. We haven’t spoken since I found out the truth. Yeah, we bump into each other, but speak . . . not so much. Not that we ever speak. More like she tells me where and when to be and how I’m supposed to act. Or she yells what an utter disappointment I am. I hate the idea of living here, but I can’t think of any solution. I’ll just have to grin and bear it until June. It can’t come soon enough. The pounding continues.
I look through the peephole and see Matt standing on the other side. I don’t bother to unlock the chain when I open it.
“What do you want?”
“Let me in,” he slurs. He’s drunk. This is not the Matt I dated. Sure, he was always a selfish prick, but apparently he’s now a drunk one.
“You’re wasted. I’m not letting you in. Haven’t you done enough damage to my life? Can’t you leave me alone?”
“You’re going to want to hear what I know about him,” He braces his hand against the doorframe to balance his weight.
“I highly doubt it.”
“I guarantee it.”
“Leave me alone. Why are you around all the time? You dumped me, remember? I found you literally fucking someone else and you dumped me.”
“I want you back,” he says as his hand pulls away from the doorframe and massages the back of his neck.
“Why?” He draws his brows together at my question. He didn’t want me once, why in the hell would he want me now?
“I don’t know. I just do.”
“You only want me ’cause you can’t have me. You do believe that, right?” He shrugs, then something flashes in his eyes.
“Where’s your boyfriend tonight?” And that’s it; he’s gone too far.
“You need to leave,” I bite out as I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“You know he threatened my life?”
“Yeah, sure.” My eyes roll in disbelief.
“He did.” My patience is wearing thin, but at the same time I feel the need to stick up for Carson.
“You made him lose his job.”
He cocks his head. “Doesn’t seem quite enough, does it? The man is fucking crazy. He’s a sick and violent pedophile.”
“I’m nineteen. I’m legal!” I shout.
“He’s still a sick ass fuck.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t you know?”
“Know what?” He gives me a lopsided smile. One that makes my skin crawl.
“Do you know anything about him from high school? The trouble he got into?” The way his eyes shine tells me he knows something and it’s not good.
“He’s changed. He reformed. Now he helps people.”
“Is getting into fights and taking advantage of little girls helping people?”
“Again, I’m legal and you deserved it. You were the one trying to take advantage of a girl.”
“So, he didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“First off, it wasn’t only that one time. He decked me and almost broke my jaw the last time I saw him. Second, well, there’s just too much to tell. Maybe you should read this.” He throws a printout from an old newspaper at me.
“What the heck is this?” There’s no disguising the satisfied look in his eyes. Whatever it is, it’s bad.
“Your boy. Yeah, not only is he still violent, but he has a long track record of abusing people.” I don’t bother listening to any more of what he has to say. Instead, I move to shut the door in his face, but not before he slides the paper all the way in a second before it slams closed. The paper falls to the floor, its threat echoing in the foyer, begging me to read what Matt is gloating about. Begging me to witness the demons Carson is hiding. I lean against the wall, staring at the little sheet of paper I wish I could pretend isn’t there.
I shouldn’t.
I pick it up.
Don’t look.
I can’t help myself.
I open it.
The headline screams at me.
Violence. Drugs. Rape.
What the hell is this?
Students arrested.
I press my hand against my throat. The page blurs. I continue to read through tears that are falling fast. I swipe them away. The words have no meaning, yet the story screams out at me. The article depicts the story of a young girl at a party, Rohypnol, and an arrest.
None of this makes sense. What the hell does this have to do with the names of the boys arrested?
Mark Bishop.
Carson Blake.
My knees grow weak. They can’t hold the weight of my body.
What is this?
I don’t understand. Could I have been so wrong about Carson? So off-base?
No.
This isn’t the man I know . . . or is it? I have seen the anger. I have seen the darkness in his eyes. I have felt the palpable energy exuding off him, watched him breathe to calm himself.
I have heard the pounding on the pavement as he exorcised his tremors with each beat of his feet on the path. But the most damning evidence of all—I witnessed the rage in his eyes as his fist connected with Matthew’s jaw that day at school. I saw the way he looked. It wasn’t him looking back at me. It was a stranger who sounds a lot like the person described in this old news clipping. Violent. Rage. It pains me to imagine it, it kills me to admit it, but maybe I am wrong about everything. Maybe I’m clouded by lust and never see just how dark he is. Maybe I never saw the monster living inside him.
I can’t think.
I need to walk.
Throwing on my coat and shoes, my feet take me right out the d
oor with no destination in mind.
Why didn’t he tell me?
Why would he tell me?
Would he do that? Would he hurt a girl?
God. My brain. It’s like a clamp is grasping every synapsis in my head, my mind ceasing to work.
Think. Think. Think.
No.
Never.
Not Carson.
But even Carson himself told me he fucked up, that he needed to redeem himself. Change himself? Is this what he was talking about?
My phone rings in my pocket. Speak of the devil. Do I answer? You need answers.
“Yes.” There is no hiding the bite to my voice.
“Are you okay?”
“I read an article about you,” I sneer, unable to control my emotions, my feelings of betrayal.
“What article?”
“Are there that many?” The thought makes me sick. Bile turns in my throat.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” He doesn’t know what I’m talking about? Who the hell doesn’t remember something like that?
“Are you a monster?” I spew out before I can stop myself. A feeling of dread washes over me. Please say no. But he doesn’t answer and I don’t speak. His silence is answer enough for me. I don’t know this man at all. “I need to go. I can’t do this.”
“Lynn . . .” I don’t let him finish.
Disconnect. Everything pours out. Every last bit of emotion. Tears drain from my eyes like a torrential rain. Time halts, but my movements do not.
Sometime later, the moisture ceases and my mind clears.
Where am I? Where am I going? With a sudden halting of my steps, I glance from right to left. I’m on his street. Standing in front of his building. My feet brought me here. But why? My mind screams back at me, stop being a petulant child . . . You need to let him explain. Shit. What will I say to him?
I nibble on my inner cheek the closer I get to the entrance of his apartment building. When I reach the doorman, I give a nod. Then let myself up.
I know he said I could use my key, let myself in, but I can’t. I need to see him before I enter. I need the safety of that. God, I hate myself. I hate these thoughts. Am I really scared of him?
