Summer's Temptation

by Ashley Lynn Willis

  He slips off his glasses, sets them on the edge of the desk, and smiles, making my heart melt a little. “I need your signature, Miss Faye.”

  “Signature?” I sit up straighter.

  He pulls out a piece of paper from the file. “For permission to use your economic forecasting graph in the book I’m writing.”

  I blow out a long, relieved breath. “Oh, right. The book.”

  “I finished the outline last week.” His smile widens as he passes the paper to me. “Did you think you were in trouble?”

  “No.” I lick my lips nervously. “Well… maybe.” I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Have you done something I need to know about?”

  My shoulders snap tight. “Of course not!”

  He chuckles, humor filling his eyes. “Relax. I’m only teasing.”

  I’m anything but relaxed. Between the hotness of the man and his query into my ethics, I’m strung as tight as a bow poised to shoot an arrow. With a stiff hand, I sign the paper and slide it back to him.

  He slips his hand over the paper, pauses with his fingers touching mine, and leans in. “At the end of the semester, I’ll take you to dinner as a thank you.”

  His touch sends a thrill shooting up my arm, and for a long moment, I’m unable to do anything but stare at him, my lips slightly parted. When he cocks his head to the side, waiting for my answer, I come to my senses and jerk my fingers away from his as if I’ve been burned. Instantly, blood pools beneath his fair cheeks. I don’t know if he’s embarrassed because he wasn’t aware we were touching or if he thinks I’m repulsed by him. Either way, my heart hammers, and my fight or flight response kicks in.

  “That’s not necessary,” I say, gathering my book and papers in a panic. I’m afraid if I don’t get out of here, I’ll say yes. “I’m just flattered you thought something I did was useful to you.” I’m surprised by my cool and collected tone, because my heart has turned into a hummingbird.

  He helps gather my notes and holds them out to me. “I want to take you out. You’ve been a tremendous help.”

  I take the papers, careful not to let our fingers touch again, and stuff them in my bag. I’m sure he’s only asking me to dinner as a polite gesture for helping with his book, and I’m reading way too much into the invitation. He’s a teacher. He’s not allowed to have inappropriate relations with a student. What worries me is how much I want it to be more than politeness.

  “Are you allowed to take students to dinner?”

  “If it’s done for professional reasons, yes.”

  Just say no! “Um… okay.” Damn his irresistibleness.

  The corner of his mouth turns up in a Tyler-esque smug smile. “Wonderful. I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

  “Of course.” I scurry to gather my things and nearly tip the desk over in my haste to leave. He must think I’m a lunatic, but that doesn’t stop me from bolting toward the door. “I’m going to be late for my job.” I hope my words will explain my odd behavior. If I can’t survive five minutes alone in class with him, how will I make it through an entire dinner? Thank God I have a month to weasel my way out of it.

  Late Friday evening, after the sun has set, I lie in my backyard gazing up at the darkened sky. The city lights make it too bright to see much more than the Big Dipper and Orion’s belt, but staring at the dim constellations is comforting just the same.

  I have a special spot at Pete Lake where I used to go every Sunday to stargaze, weather permitting, but it holds too many memories of Wyatt. We always went there together, and I’m afraid if I revisit it, I’ll end up in tears. So for now, it’s best if I stay away. My telescope will remain tucked in its case all summer, and that makes me ache. I feel as though another piece of my heart has been taken by Wyatt, but I’m still too fragile to fight for it back.

  I hear the back door open. I figure it’s probably Liz, but then I catch a whiff of Clinique’s Happy carried on the warm breeze. Hannah. I hadn’t known she was coming over. Her footfalls make crunching noises in the grass, and from my peripheral vision, I see her lie next to me.

  “Liz told me you were out here.” She pauses then adds, “She also said you seemed especially melancholy today.”

  “She used the word melancholy?”

  “Well, not exactly. She said you were being a depressing bitch, but I thought that was a little harsh.”

  I grimace at the truth behind Liz’s words. If I keep moping because of Wyatt, everyone’s going to get tired of me, and I’ll be out on my ass without a friend who cares.

  “What’s wrong?” Hannah’s voice is full of real concern, not the polite kind I’ve heard so much of lately. She finds my hand and squeezes. At least one person isn’t annoyed by my sulking yet.

  I sigh as I search for the Little Dipper. “I miss my stars.”

  We’re silent for a moment, listening to the crickets chirp.

  She asks, “How long since you’ve been to the lake with your telescope?”

  “Wyatt and I went in April.”

  A few weeks later, he dumped me. Hannah’s never visited my spot—trekking through the forest isn’t her thing—but she knew I looked forward to my visits each week. They recharge me in a way nothing else can.

  She sits up and takes both my hands. As she stands, she pulls me up with her. “Follow me.”

  Hannah’s never pushy, so when she asks me to do something, I know it’s important. I trail on her heels into the house. We meander into my room, and I know exactly what she’s up to when she opens my closet and pulls out my telescope case.

  Clutching the black box, she turns toward me. “It’s time to take back the night.”

  “Isn’t that a song?”

  “Yes, Justin Timberlake sings your new theme song. Now grab some flashlights and come on.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not ready.” Seven weeks isn’t long enough. Hell, I’m not sure a year will be long enough to exorcise the demons of Wyatt.

  Hannah sets the telescope on the floor, kneels, and fishes around the bottom of my closet. “You’re never going to be ready, Cassie, so you might as well go tonight, with me.” She comes up with baseball hat that has an LED light strapped to the brim. She frowns at the contraption. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Wyatt had bought the light for me after the second time I’d dropped our flashlight and busted the bulb. Hiking through the woods in the middle of the night without a light is a bitch. “It’s functional.”

  She rolls her eyes while handing the hat to me. “And incredibly dorky.”

  I click on the light. “Still works.”

  “What else do we need?” she asks, standing and scanning my room.

  Am I really considering doing this? I should. My grandfather bought the telescope for me two years before he died. He instilled my passion for astronomy in me, and he’d be so sad to know I’d given it up because of a no-good boy.

  “We need water,” I say. Trekking through the thick forest is thirsty business. “Are you sure you want to hike in the dark? There might be spiders.”

  She shudders but gives me a convincing smile. “Absolutely.”

  If Hannah’s willing to brave spiders for me, something she’s deathly afraid of, I can brave memories of Wyatt. Right? She might not offer to come again, and having a friend with me might make this bearable. If I can regain my hobby, confronting my demons will be worth it.

  Mind made up, I say, “Okay. Let’s do this.” I glance around the room, trying to remember where I put all my stuff. “We’ll also need a snakebite kit and a walking stick to scare away any vermin on our path. Oh, and bug spray.”

  Hannah’s convincing smile falls away, and she wraps her arms around herself. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Let’s just lie in the backyard. There’s less chance of dying out there.”

  I stroll to my dresser, open the top drawer, and pull out the snakebite kit. “No, I think you’re right. I need to get this over with. Grab the walking stick
in the left side of the closet.” I can’t let Wyatt take everything from me. The time has come to make my grandfather proud by burying old ghosts and getting on with my life. “Let’s take back the night.”

  Half an hour later, we’re hiking through the forest to the light of my nifty hat-LED. Behind me, Hannah wheezes and desperately tries to keep up. Twice I’ve matched my gait to hers, but she keeps falling behind. Either I’m speeding up, or she’s slowing down.

  “I need a break,” she whines.

  I don’t stop hiking, despite her breathiness. “We’re almost there. Five more minutes, tops.”

  The closer we get to my secret place, the more anxious I become. I thought it’d be months until I came back here, and I’m filled with a nervous energy about how I’ll react. So far, so good, but we’re not there yet. I want to get this over with.

  “You’re killing me,” she gasps. “How can you move so fast with all that equipment?”

  I tighten my sweaty grip on my telescope case and shrug. Carrying all this stuff isn’t easy, but when I have a goal, nothing gets in my way, not even an aching back and tired legs. Hannah’s wheezing quiets, and I glance over my shoulder. The LED light illuminates her form. She’s bent at the waist, two hands braced against a tree. Tidy pink nails dig into the bark, and her chest heaves as she stares at the clover-covered ground.

  “I have to take a break,” she says, sweat trickling down her rosy cheeks.

  “It’s going to be midnight before we make it.” Though it’d be a fib, I’m tempted to tell her there’s a hairy black spider on the tree, inching toward her hand. That’d put a fire under her butt, but it also might give her a coronary considering how hot and tired she looks. If I wasn’t so needy, I would have spared her and come by myself, but let’s face it, I’m a wimp. I drop my equipment by her feet. “Take your time.”

  She holds up one finger. “Just give me… a… minute.”

  I nod and wait for her. Ten minutes later, we step out of the tree line and into my private meadow on the shore of Pete Lake. I scan the area, waiting for something to happen. A panic attack. Tears. Cursing. I don’t feel any of those things, and I’m shocked by my lack of reaction.

  I’ve been so careful to avoid the places Wyatt and I frequented. The bars. The restaurants. Even the street between his fraternity and my sorority. Going near those places made my stomach knot so tight, I’d feel like vomiting, but I don’t feel that here. Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or maybe I’m just ready to move on. Either way, I’m grateful and glad I came.

  “You okay?” Hannah eyes me as if she’s afraid I’m going to break down in tears.

  Licking my dry lips, I nod. My heart pounds a little faster than normal, probably because I half expect to see Wyatt sprawled out on a blanket in the middle of the field, staring at the sky. But he’ll never be here again, and I think I’m ready to come to terms with that.

  I grab Hannah’s hand and squeeze. “Thanks for making me come out here. I needed this.”

  She squeezes back. “I can come every Sunday if you want me to.”

  I smile at how altruistic she is. “I think I can manage alone next week. It’ll be therapeutic.”

  She blows out a long breath, seeming relieved. I suppress a chuckle. She’s really not a fan of nature.

  “It’s pretty out here,” she says as though she’s trying to convince herself it was worth the hike. “Look at the lake.”

  I gaze out upon the water and marvel at the way the waning moon creates thousands of tiny diamonds on the surface. I found this place freshman year, when Wyatt and I were out hiking lake trails in the spring. We’d taken a deer path instead of a sanctioned park trail, but it turned out to be a wonderful mistake. We came upon this lea, half the size of a football field and dotted with Indian paintbrush and morning stars.

  The meadow was so quiet, except for the lapping waves on the shore and gentle rustling of leaves in the wind, that we both fell in love with the place. For two people used to the hustle and bustle of fraternity and sorority life, serene quiet was its own kind of heaven. With a clear view of the sky, I knew it would be the perfect spot for stargazing. The next night, Wyatt helped carry my equipment here. I’ve been coming every clear Sunday since. Until he broke up with me.

  Pushing aside thoughts of Wyatt, I head to the middle of the clearing, swatting at the ground with my walking stick to scare off unwanted visitors like snakes or skunks. Hannah lays out a blanket while I set up my telescope. I mount it to the tripod then calibrate it using the light from my hat.

  “What are you looking for?” Hannah asks.

  “Mercury.” I’d made Hannah drive so I could check my favorite stargazing websites on my phone. I discovered June is one of the only months this year when Mercury is visible at night. It rarely veers far from the sun, and the glare makes it hard to see except in the early morning. But tonight, it’s mine. I hope. I’ve never actually seen it before, but I’m optimistic.

  I turn off the LED light and give my eyes time to acclimate to the dark. Then I lower my face to the eyepiece. After I adjust the focus, Mercury appears, orange and white and perfect. I feel giddy, as if I’m the first person to discover the tiny planet so close to the sun. Grandpa would’ve loved this. I study the planet for a long time, memorizing the way the orange fades into yellow and then white. I doubt I’ll see it again for years, but that’s okay. It makes the moment more special.

  When I’m sure I’ve absorbed every detail, I turn to Hannah. “Want to see it?”

  Hannah lifts up on her knees and peers into the eyepiece. “That orange blob?” She sounds unimpressed. “That’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  She shakes her head at me. “I don’t understand why you’d go to all this trouble to see a colored spot.”

  Of course she doesn’t get it. Hardly anyone does. When rovers can send detailed pictures of Martian landscapes straight to our laptops, a blob doesn’t seem that spectacular, but to me, it’s everything. “That colored spot is forty-eight million miles away. Just the fact that I can see it using mirrors and lenses is a feat of technology.”

  Her brow furrows, and she cocks her head to the side. “You’re such a nerd sometimes. Good thing you’re cute.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying a guy wouldn’t want me for my brain alone?”

  She pats my shoulder. “With boobs like yours, you’ll never have to find out.”

  “You’re a bitch sometimes.” I shrug off her hand and pretend to be offended.

  She nudges me in the ribs. “You love me.”

  Can’t argue with that. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

  I lie back in the grass next to her and watch the stars move slowly above us. A cool breeze blows from the water, drying the sweat on my brow.

  Hannah breathes out a long, contented sigh. “I really do like it out here.”

  “Me too.” So much that I’m constantly afraid someone will discover my piece of heaven and take it over. “Don’t tell Dylan about this place, okay?”

  She rolls on her side, and from the dim light of the crescent moon, I see her brow furrow. “Why?”

  “He’ll tell Josh, and Josh will decide it’s the perfect spot for a field party.”

  “Good point. I won’t tell a soul.”

  We settle into companionable silence while I twirl a loose thread from the cotton blanket around my finger.

  “Liz says your telescope is a phallic symbol. That’s why you like it so much.”

  I cringe. “My grandfather gave me that telescope.” It’s the only tangible thing I have left of him, and therefore, my most cherished possession. “Calling it a phallic symbol is a little insulting.”

  “Not my words, hers.”

  “Everything’s a phallic symbol to that woman. She could probably find twenty of them on a kid’s playset.”

  “Touché.” She smirks as though she’s remembering something sordid. “I once asked Dylan if he could have a threesome with me and one of my friends, who woul
d he pick? I was sure he’d say Liz, but he picked you.”

  “Me? I thought all guys wanted a night with Liz.”

  She snorts. “He said he was afraid Liz would bite his wiener off.”

  We giggle, but our laughter soon turns into full-blown guffawing that makes tears stream down our faces. We’ve heard rumors that Liz prefers submissive men who like it rough, but Liz swears it’s not true. That doesn’t stop us from speculating.

  I wipe my cheeks with my palms. “I never thought you’d ask Dylan something like that.” As jealous as she can be, it seems like a loaded question.

  She playfully shoves my shoulder. “It’s good to know who to watch out for.”

  “Oh, please. Like any girl could steal Dylan from you.”

  She smiles, seeming delighted with my reply, but she knows I’m the last girl who’d ever steal a boyfriend. I know the pain involved.

  “So how are things going with you two anyway?”

  She scowls at me, but her eyes dance with humor. “Are you making plans to move in on my territory?”

  “I’m being serious.” Since summer session started, we haven’t spent much time together, and I have no idea what’s up with her and Dylan.

  She grins so brightly, it lights up the night like a full moon. “We’re doing wonderful. I think he’s—” Her lips mash together, abruptly halting whatever she’d been about to say.

  I’m alarmed by how quickly her smile fell away. “You think what?”

  She stares at the night sky with too much concentration, as if the hamster wheel in her head’s spinning out of control. “I think… I think he’s taking me to see the new Transformer movie this weekend.” She tilts her head toward me, and one side of her mouth turns up as though she’s trying to force her smile to come back.

  “How sweet of him.” I give her an I’m-not-buying-it look. “Now what were you really going to say?”