The Teacher

by Claire, Ava

I slipped out the door and down the stairs, spying Mom's Volvo at the end of the visitor lot, her bowed head bopping as she walked briskly toward it.

  I made a megaphone with my hands. "Mom, wait up!”

  She paused, then kept walking. I jogged, huffing until I stopped beside her, halfway in the car.

  "Mom, can we talk?"

  "What do we have to talk about?" she said, staring at me with hurt in her dark eyes. "About your obvious cry for help?"

  "What?" I said, taken aback.

  "You're obviously hurting about Dad and that's why you're taking back up with that boy."

  "Funny," I fumed. "He pretty much said the same thing about you. That you're upset about us because you lost dad and now you think you're losing me too."

  "Please," she scoffed. "I'm upset because you are depressed and the last thing you need is to be all tangled up with Chance Crawford."

  "I know he screwed up before Mom. He knows he screwed up. But I-" I swallowed the heart filled knot in my throat. "I love him. I never stopped loving him. And he's helping me deal with-"

  She started her car, cutting me off. "I don't want to hear anymore. You're an adult and I can't make you do anything--even if I think you're making a horrible mistake."

  "If you could just-"

  "I have an appointment." She gestured at her door. "I'll talk to you later."

  I took a step backward and let her pull it closed and watched her drive away. I was finally ready to talk, but she was nowhere near ready to listen.

  ****

  "I want to go on the record--this is going to blow up in your face."

  I unclicked my seatbelt and opened the door, getting out before I caught a bad case of Chance's nerves. "No--trying to hide you under my bed blew up in my face."

  I circled around the car and smiled with approval when I got the full effect of him. The deep blue of the shirt made his hair a seductive ebony and those pants--the way they hugged and accentuated was going to make thoughts of anything but beds and our bodies together impossible. When my eyes drew back up and met his, he smiled and circled an arm around my waist. "Do I have your stamp of approval?"

  Warmth reddened my cheeks as he pulled me close enough that if my lips lied, my body couldn't. He could see the red in my cheeks, pupils dilated, feel my heart damn near beating out my chest…

  The sound of a door opening snapped us from the moment and I took a step backward. Mrs. Reynolds, Alicia's mom, was standing in the doorway, wearing a red sweater dress and an uncomfortable expression. I started up the stairs toward her, preparing myself for one of her signature bear hugs. For someone as petite as Alicia, she hugged like someone three times her size.

  "Cassandra!" She smashed my body into hers until I could smell every note in her perfume in disturbing detail. She held me at arm's length. "How are you?"

  "Great," I said, extricating myself slowly when I heard the creak of Chance behind me.

  Before I could introduce him, she had already turned to him, extending her hand. "I didn't know you were bringing a friend! I'm Lisa Reynolds."

  Chance accepted it with a smile that melted my heart. "Chance Crawford. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "Welcome to my home." She held his hand for a long moment, pondering something. I wondered if she was expecting the boogeyman from descriptions from Alicia and my mother.

  "You brought him?" Alicia said tightly behind us, ruining the moment.

  Her mother released Chance's hand like a hot potato and moved to shut the front door. "Be nice, Alicia."

  Alicia didn't even bother pretending, instead turning on her heels in a huff, not giving us a second glance.

  "You'll have to forgive, Alicia," Mrs. Reynolds said to us.

  "It's alright, ma'am," Chance took my hand and I relaxed a little. He sniffed. "Something smells delicious."

  "My pot roast," she said, beaming with pride. "Dinner's just about ready."

  I didn't remember her corridor being so terrifyingly long, but every step made me want to turn back. Maybe Chance was right. Maybe this would just make it worse. But every time I entertained making a run for it, Chance would squeeze my hand and I found the strength to face anything and everything.

  Still, I deflated a little when Mrs. Reynolds ducked out to pry her husband from the computer and left us to face the firing squad alone.

  Alicia dropped into her seat with an unceremonious thud and Mom was to her right, eyes on Chance. If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under.

  He cleared his throat and stepped forward. "It's good to see you both again."

  Alicia snorted. My mother said nothing.

  If the blows landed, Chance didn't even flinch. Instead he rolled up his sleeves, glancing around. "Do you know if Lisa needs any help setting up?"

  "Lisa?" Alicia repeated incredulously. "You and my mom are on a first name basis?"

  "Can't you at least try?" I pleaded, pulling out the chair beside her. "For me?"

  She crossed her arms. "I am doing this for you."

  I shook my head sadly. "You're just making it harder, Alicia." She kept staring at him like she wished she had something sharp. The thing was, I believed she thought she was looking out for me. But treating him like crap was just making it harder for me to do what I needed to do, what I wanted to do--move on.

  Mrs. Reynolds swooped back in, holding a bottle of wine. Thank God.

  I took a huge swallow, trying to ignore my mother's disapproving glare as Chance saddled up beside me.

  "So!" Mrs. Reynolds said brightly, trying to alleviate the pressure with a smile. "What do you do for a living, Chance?"

  "Were you ignoring me earlier, Mom?" Alicia spat. "I told you he was teaching at Thomas so he can weasel his way back into Cass' life."

  "Alicia!" Mrs. Reynolds gasped, her face reddening.

  Alicia shrugged a shoulder. "Just being honest."

  Mrs. Reynolds shoulders slumped as she apologized for her daughter. Again.

  "It's alright," Chance said. But I could already see him unraveling at the seams, clenching his jaw and pointedly not looking in Alicia's direction.

  The timer dinged and I almost wanted to offer to dish it out, but Mrs. Reynolds flitted from the room quickly, like she too couldn't stand the tension.

  I tried again with Alicia. "I saw the most interesting article on-"

  "You know what's interesting?" she interrupted. "That apparently Thomas' rules and regulations have gotten so lax that it's no biggie that professors and students hook up."

  My stomach lurched as Chance slammed his wine glass down with a snap.

  "I mean, have the rules changed, Dr. Crawford?" Alicia asked sweetly.

  "I think you're aware they haven't, Alicia," Chance said, chewing every word. "Why don't you go ahead and say what's on your mind and cut the suspense?"

  I looked at her, knowing exactly what she was hinting at, but not wanting her to say it. Begging her not to.

  She looked at me, then him and raised her chin. "It would be a shame if someone let the dean know about the conduct of his rookie English professor."

  I inhaled sharply, taking all the air from the room. Affairs between teachers and students weren't allowed but they only existed in rumor. Even Mom looked at Alicia with surprise. Chance was just looking forward, frighteningly still.

  I reached for his hand. "Chance-"

  His seat sliding back on the floor was like nails on a chalkboard. He looked at me, no one else. "Please let Lisa know that I regret not being able to stay for dinner."

  I jumped up but went no further, torn. It didn't matter because Alicia was already crucifying me.

  "He says jump and you say how high? You’re not really going to follow him like some puppy dog, are you?”

  “Just stop it!” I yelled, slamming my fist on the table. The glass and silverware clinked and clanked and the room went silent. Mom and Alicia looked at me with surprise. I knew it was because I’d been a zombie for far too long, just going through the mot
ions; not rocking the boat, or asserting myself. But now I was wide awake and they were going to hear me out.

  I turned my ire to Alicia first. “How dare you threaten his job! I know you think you’re helping, saving me from myself or something another, but I don’t need to be saved.”

  “Yes, but-”

  “No,” I snapped, pushing back from the table. “I was hoping we could all be adults. Everyone makes mistakes. I decided to forgive Chance. You don’t have to agree with my decision, but you do have to respect it!”

  My mother’s glare softened and Alicia looked down at the tablecloth. I knew it would be a cold day in hell before she apologized for what she said, but at least her silence meant she wouldn’t say anymore. Not tonight anyway.

  But I wasn’t done.

  “I know you think that this is some cry for help because of Dad,” I continued. “That Chance is the problem, a drug and now I’m relapsing. But he’s helping me. I need him.”

  Alicia glanced back up, her face still hard, but trying to listen.

  “Chance isn’t going anywhere,” I said with finality. “The next time he joins us for dinner, don’t embarrass me again.”

  The room was still quiet, the only sound my kitten heels clicking on the hardwood floor as I left the dining room. I stopped in the foyer to grab our jackets and thank Mrs. Reynolds for her invitation to dinner before following Chance back out to the car.

  He was perched on the hood of the sedan, his body taut and furious.

  When he saw me, he stood up, shaking his head adamantly. "You don't have to do that."

  "Do what?" I said. "Leave with my date?"

  "I’m sorry I stormed out. I'm not mad," he added unconvincingly.

  I gave him a look. "You blew out of there like the house was on fire."

  He gave me a sliver of smile, but it evaporated almost instantly. "Your friend, your mother have every right to not trust me. To hate my guts."

  I walked over and leaned against a space beside him. "True...but they should trust me. And trust what I want."

  He turned to me, his face open. Almost vulnerable. "And what is that you want, Cass?"

  I nudged him with my shoulder playfully. He was the one teaching me about second chances, showing me that it was okay to open my heart again. Now he needed me to school him on something that should have been obvious.

  "You," I answered simply. "It's always been you."

  ###

  Thank you for taking the time to read The Teacher. Please consider leaving a review. xoxo A.C.

  About the Author

  Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her Kindle, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, and vintage fashion.

  More about the His Dark Lessons series:

  The His Dark Lessons series will be released in serial format and will consist of three parts.

  The Student (Part One): November

  The Teacher (Part Two): December

  The Test (Part Three): January

  **Stay tuned to Ava’s blog for more info on new releases!**

  http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com