by Claire Adams
Is that what had happened to Ford? He was taken in by her pretty fake-ness and all-together too easy attitude?
At the corner near the limestone chapel, Libby slowed and then spun on her heeled sandals. "Clarity. Thank god, for a second there I thought some creep was following me."
I could have nodded and cut across the grass, but Libby already knew why I was trying to bump into her. Her brown eyes blinked at me with a calculating glance.
"Nice to see you, Libby. How was your break?" I asked.
"It was alright," Libby shrugged, "though I didn't get any good, send-off kisses like you. I've been craving a little roll in the fallen leaves ever since I ran into you and your, um, man."
"What? No," I swallowed hard. "That is not what you saw."
Libby sidled closer and kept pace with me as I tried to flee. "I wonder what I would have seen if I had been a few minutes behind on my mile. If only I was a little slower, I bet I would have seen your skinny legs up in the air."
"Libby! How can you say that? He's a professor."
"We both know the rules weren't made for him. He's not old or lecherous. He's virile and irresistible. Who wouldn't bend the rules for a taste of those lips? Maybe a taste of something a little farther down..."
I slammed to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "You are filthy. And I think it's about time you take your dirty mind and go bother someone else."
"Why would I do that?" Libby batted her spiky, mascara-laden eyelashes. "You're the one locking illegal lips with fantastic Mr. Ford."
"Illegal? You just said the rules weren't made for him," I snapped.
"A little touchy, huh, Clarity?" Libby asked. "I get it. You want him to touch you so bad you're willing to stumble around in the leaves just to brush up against him. We've all been there."
"That's it," I said. "You better come straight out and say what you mean, Libby. I'm done with all your trash talk." I crossed my arms and stood up as tall as I could.
"I'm saying that you're not the first one to get the hots for Professor Bauer. The first time he and I kissed, it was behind the cafeteria."
"Gross," I said and spun away.
Libby caught my arm. "No, it wasn't gross at all. I had lost my ID, and Ford came to help me. I could feel his eyes on me as I bent over and checked the lost and found basket. Then all I had to do was get close enough, and he couldn't resist."
I threw my hands in front of me and backed up two steps. "You are making all of that up. You just want the attention, so you tell these stories that no one can prove are true."
"Oh, it's true," Libby laughed. "I once took a selfie of us in one of our favorite dark corners. You know the little alcove near the campus radio station? No one goes back there, and there's a decent sofa there."
"Please, you've probably been there with half a dozen guys. According to the stories you tell about yourself, half the campus is drooling over you and just waiting for their chance to come again," I said, though the words made me feel sick.
Libby tossed her blonde ponytail. "I'm not going to deny I enjoy the reputation I've got. Why not? It's the modern era, and women are allowed to have sex too, you know."
"That doesn't mean that every girl wants to or should," I said. I took a deep, calming breath. "Some women want more. More intimacy, more connection, more satisfactions than a series of one-night stands."
"Oh, who says it was just one night with the fantastic Mr. Ford?" Libby asked. "He wanted me so badly he kept running into me. Before class, after class, in the cafeteria, all over campus."
"Yeah, it sounds like you had a really deep connection." I stepped around Libby again.
Now Libby looked disgusted. "We dated. It was much more than just a silly kiss under a tree."
"Then why are you so jealous of one kiss?" I countered.
"Who says I'm jealous?" Libby narrowed her eyes. "I got everything I wanted from Ford."
"Obviously not," I said. "He just used you and now you walk around mad that you didn't come out on top."
"Oh, I came on top," Libby snarled. "Besides, princess, hasn't it ever occurred to you that Ford is using you?"
"The difference is I'm not going to let him."
She shook her head with a mean smile. "He already has used you. Do you think he took you under his wing because he loves you? He wanted to befriend your father and gain the influence of the dean."
I faltered. "Why would he need my father's influence?"
"To save his job." Libby sauntered away with a dainty wave over her shoulder.
The conversation rattled around in my head until I was sure the unnecessary jabs and jealousies were gone. It came down to two claims: that Ford had slept with a student two years ago, and that he was only interested in me to ingratiate himself to my father.
I dragged my feet on the way to his class. How could I stand to verify either claim? Libby's bragging wasn't evidence, but she had planted a seed of doubt in my head.
"Hello, class," Ford said.
My stomach buzzed with the same happy excitement, despite the turmoil in my head. Just being near him ignited me like a handful of fireworks, and my body wouldn't listen to reason.
I stamped down my feelings. Now it didn't matter if he was innocent or exactly what Libby described. The fact was that Ford Bauer was not for me, and the sooner I let it go, the better. As painful as it was, I had to admit that everything else had been silly fantasy on my part. I could never pursue anything real with Ford, and I had to let him go.
The first half of class, it was easy to keep my head down. Ford lectured on writing to a specific audience, and I took diligent notes. Then he opened it up to questions and discussions, and I was forced to look up from my notebook.
"How do we research our audience?" Michelle asked. The third-year brunette blushed as Ford complimented her question. As he started into the answer, Michelle watched him with a rapt smile.
So I wasn't the only one that was affected by Professor Bauer. My stomach boiled. When Ford smiled at the next female student, my anger spilled over, and I slammed my binder closed.
"Everything alright, Clarity?" Ford asked.
The rest of the lecture hall turned to me with curious glances, and my cheeks flared bright red. "Sorry, I'm fine."
I will be, I promised myself. I will get over my disappointment.
That was all it was: disappointment. I wanted Ford to be my knight in shining armor. I wanted a man with as sharp a moral compass as myself and the drive to bring the truth to light. Now it felt as if neither of those things could be possibly true of Ford.
I waited until the end of class, then leapt from my seat. I climbed over students still packing up and was almost to the end of the row when my classmate, Dan, spilled a soda. The frothing bottle whirled around on the floor and sprayed everyone within a two-foot radius. I turned around and edged back the way I came.
This time I had to wait for all the students I had trampled to exit the row in front of me. I considered climbing down to the next row, but it was no better. When I wanted to rush out of class, everyone decided to take their time.
Finally I saw a clear path to the door. If I could just get outside, then Ford would not catch me, and I would not have to confront any of it for another few days. Or ever.
Then I saw Thomas. He was frowning at me from underneath his fringe of shaggy hair. After my run-in with Libby, I did not need to hear him try to convince me of the truth any more. Avoiding him meant I had to double back and go to the far steps. Then I had to cross the lecture hall floor right in front of Ford's desk.
"Clarity, I was hoping I could catch you," Ford said. He stepped out from behind his desk and stood between me and the doorway.
The last students filtered out. Thomas took a long look at us then shook his head in disgust and left.
"I've got another class to get to, Professor Bauer," I said.
"Yes, that's fine," Ford came closer and reached out to touch my arm. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. Ab
out that story you were thinking of pursuing..."
I stiffened and backed up. "I don't want to talk about that. Not with you, of all people."
Ford glanced over his shoulder to make sure we were alone. "Me? Please, Clarity, I told you that it's between you and your father. I don't intend to do any digging unless you want me to."
I clutched my backpack.
"If it were me, the first thing I would want to know is the truth," Ford said. This time he caught my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"Why? You don't suspect he did it? You don't think everyone has as flexible a morality as you?"
"What? Why are you talking about my morality?" His dark brows furrowed together.
"You know." I stopped before the hitch in my voice was heard.
Ford's grip on my arm tightened, and he pulled me out of the lecture hall and into the prep room. "Why are you suddenly worried about my morality? Does this have anything to do with that student, ah, seeing us?"
I yanked my arm back. "That student? You mean the one you slept with when she was a freshman?"
Ford's eyes turned a flat gray. "What do you think I was trying to tell you at Thanksgiving?"
"Are you kidding me?" I screeched. "Now it's my fault because I didn't want to discuss the most irresponsible mistake I've ever made while we helped my father wash the dishes?"
He flexed his jaw muscle. "I wanted you to hear the truth from me."
"Well, now I've heard it, so I don't need to hear anything else from you."
"Clarity," Ford hissed. "Why don't we go upstairs where we can talk in my office? It's more private there."
I shook my head. "No way. You probably had sex with her up there."
My voice was angry and loud. Ford glanced around and then checked his watch. The next professor would be coming through at any moment, and we were lucky to have been alone so long. His eyes darted around the small prep space and then seized on the supply closet.
"No," I snapped. "I'm not going to let you turn me into another one of your student conquests."
Ford snarled. "I'm not trying to seduce you, for god's sake, Clarity. Give me more credit than that."
I dodged around him and headed for the door to the lecture hall. "You don't deserve any credit. You have to earn it."
"You're right. More right than you know," Ford said. "Fine. I'll tell you the truth here, no matter who comes in."
"Like this?" I swiped a hand over my eyes. "We look like we're having a lovers' spat."
Ford's eyes turned a stormy blue. "Who cares what other people think? Just for a moment, Clarity, let me talk to you as if Landsman College doesn't exist. Let me tell you my side of the story before you condemn me."
I crossed my arms and refused to sit in the desk chair he offered. The prep space had four desks in two pairs, and he perched on the corner of the farthest one. I hovered near the door and fought the urge to bolt before he could say a word.
"You were right about having to earn credit," Ford said. He scrubbed his cheek hard and sighed. "When I was discharged from the Army, I was excited to write any story. The idea that I was free of the strict parameters and editing of the Army was like a shot of pure adrenaline. I chased any story I could."
"Way to bury the lead and try to make me empathize with you," I snapped, "but remember, I'm taking your class, and I know all your journalist tricks. Just tell me what I need to know."
Ford slapped an open hand against the top of the desk. "It is important, Clarity. I haven't told more than a few people what I'm trying to tell you."
I squeezed my arms tighter together and wished his words hadn't sparked a flame of hope. "Why you're here?" I guessed.
"Yes." Ford got up and paced to me and then back to the far wall. "I chased a really big story despite everyone's warnings. I went after the wrong people, and it cost me everything. My story wasn't enough, the truth wasn't enough, and not only did I lose my job, but I lost my reputation and my credit. No one else would hire me after the subjects of my exposé were through with me."
Out of the hundreds of questions overflowing in my thoughts, I asked, "So you found a job here at Landsman College?"
"I didn't want a professorship, but I needed a job. I needed the paycheck, and it was the only way I could feel like I hadn't completely turned my back on my career," Ford said.
I brushed my hair out of my eyes. "So you celebrated your good fortune by breaking all the rules you could?"
Ford's eyes were a painful storm. "I was angry. Despite the truth of what I had uncovered, people with influence had chased me out and left me with nothing. Then I came here and was surrounded by the same style of power, money, and influence. I was bitter, self-destructive, and I drank too much. All the time. I even had a flask I poured into my coffee."
"Your reputation was ruined, so you decided to ruin the image of professors everywhere?"
His shoulders slumped. "I dropped my flask in the cafeteria. When I went out back to look for it, there was Libby. I was drunk. She threw herself at me. I wanted the consequences more than her."
My voice wavered, but I said, "Libby brags about it being a full-blown affair. There's a big difference between one drunken mistake and having a relationship."
Ford's eyes slid to his shoes and stayed there. "I repeated the mistake. I tried to fool myself into thinking it was more, into making it more than just a stupid, ridiculous mistake."
"Libby calls you her ex-boyfriend. How long did it go on?" I hated myself for asking, and it hurt that I cared.
"It didn't. Not more than a week, and I never gave her any indication that it was anything more than a bad idea."
My heart ached. I was torn between believing the pain I saw in his eyes and the heavy waves of disappointment that pushed me back.
"It doesn't matter," I decided. "I don't care what happened between you and Libby. That was your mistake, and I don't think I should have to pay the price for it."
Ford grabbed both my hands. "Clarity, I promise you, I won't let it affect you. You're right, you're totally innocent. What we have—"
"We don't have anything." My voice was hollow.
He shook his head and tried again. "What I meant was what we shared—"
"Nothing happened," I said.
"Clarity, please. You have to believe a person can change in two years. Don't you believe people can redeem themselves?"
The anguished question pierced me to the core. I wanted to believe that people could redeem themselves more than anything in the world. Then I could believe my father could someday be the man I had loved and trusted.
My father, the dean. I took a deep breath and kept my voice steady. "It doesn't matter what I believe. All I know is that it seems like you got close to me, complimented me, and mentored me, just so you could get closer to my father."
"What? Why would I be more interested in your father than you?" Ford asked.
"You're hoping he'll save your job, but now he can't even save himself."
The look of shock and dismay on Ford's face was the final push I needed to walk away. The glimmer of hope his horrified expression gave me was more than I could take.
Chapter Twelve
Ford
I ran up the stairs two at a time and wished I could outrun the look in Clarity's eyes. She was upset, and there was something more than her father's mistake. A bad feeling chased me. Libby would not stay quiet for long. The thing that slowed me down, dragged me down with every step, was the guilt over what I had done.
I charged up the steps and did not pause for breath on the landing. A sharp turn and another flight of stairs, and the sound of student laughter faded away. I was almost to my office floor when I heard heavy footsteps above me.
Florence Macken rounded the corner on her way down, and I skidded to a stop. I stumbled backward on the next landing and grabbed the railing for support.
"Professor Bauer, just the man I was hoping to catch," she said.
My department head stood over me, thr
ee steps up, and made no move to join me on the landing. She settled her hands on her hips and smirked at me from above.
"I imagine you've heard that rumors have come to light around Landsman campus," Macken said. "That means changes that have been stymied for some time will be going ahead soon."
I braced myself against the railing. "Rumors. Let me guess, there was a student report made this morning," I said.
I couldn't blame Libby for beating me to it. She knew her leverage was not going to last long, though I was surprised she went ahead before even making a specific demand of me.
Then my stomach sank. If Libby had lodged a complaint against me, it meant she had confronted Clarity. When Clarity did not believe her or bend to her blackmail threats, Libby had no choice but to go ahead and make the complaint against me.
"Student complaint?" Macken asked. "This morning?" Her faced smoothed into a superior mask. "Of course, I'm surprised that you want to discuss first."
I paused and listened for a moment. Macken prided herself on knowing everything first, so it was not hard to believe she would bluff. "I'm assuming nothing can happen until it comes before the Honor Council," I hedged. "So, really, there is nothing to discuss until that happens. You wouldn't step outside of protocol, would you?"
"Honor Council," she muttered. Macken let her fists slip off her hips and crossed them over her formidable stomach. "You're just trying to distract me with some student drivel, Professor Bauer. Not everyone on campus is as interested in the personal lives of the students as you are."
She didn't know. Libby had not yet filed a complaint against me for our inappropriate relationship. When the weight did not lift from my shoulders, I knew it was time for me to declare the mistake myself. Luckily, I did not have to discuss it with Florence Macken.
"Sorry, I won't waste your time anymore," I said. I climbed a step upwards, but my department head refused to move.
A reptilian smile curved the corners of her mouth. "You can't tell me you don't already know. You haven't heard?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. I was teaching this morning," I said. When her smile did not fade but stretched farther, the knots in my stomach returned.
