by Natasha West
For the next few weeks I valiantly fought my attraction to Amy, I really did. I tried to talk myself out of it but for every day she sat in my class, my hunger for her grew. I could see hers did too. We hadn’t spoken of the incident in my office but the way she looked at me during my lectures was enough to make me lose my train of thought on more than one occasion. After several weeks of trying to push back the tide, I went outside after a long day to find Amy leaning against my car, waiting for me. I realised that I was tired of trying to be good. Where had it ever gotten me? I decided at that moment I was going to take what I wanted. I didn’t speak a word to her. I just unlocked the car and she got in. I drove her to my house and we went inside. I barely had the door shut when she grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall, kissing me like I was feast to a starving woman. We didn’t even get to the bedroom, it happened on the floor of the living room. Any lack of experience with women hadn’t mattered. She desperately wanted to please me and she was completely open to instruction. She made me feel good for the first time in a long while, and I realised that the benefit of younger women was that they were willing to give so much while asking for so little.
It went on for a few months. She’d be waiting at my car at the end of the day and we’d go to my house. I’d tell her exactly what I wanted and she’d work hard to pleasure me, doing things I could never have asked for from Lydia. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere and that’s what made it so exciting. It was nothing but sex and it was freeing. I felt lightened from the burdens of relationships, from working hard to make something out of it. It was an end in itself.
After three months of sleeping with Amy, it became obvious that it had to be ended. I could see that she was beginning to get attached and I didn’t want to hurt her. I gently explained to her we had to finish because I’d been bought into the Dean’s office and threatened with being fired. It was complete fiction but it made it easier for Amy to think there was nothing personal about the rejection. She took it pretty well and barely even argued, although I knew that it was hard for her to give me up. The end of it coincided nicely with the end of the year so we didn’t have to see each other in class, and the following year she’d been careful not to choose a course that I taught. It had been so easy. And that next year there had been another girl, Megan, and I saw the way she looked at me and I thought to myself ‘why not?’
Since Amy there had always been someone, every academic year. Chloe would be Number Seven. But over time, I’d learned that there were certain lines to keep behind to make sure that things never got out of hand. Firstly, nothing should ever happen on university property. Far too risky. Secondly the girl must always initiate, she must always feel like it was her idea. If I made the first move she might start to wonder, after it was all over and she was feeling a little bruised, if perhaps she hadn’t been taken advantage of her. I wanted the girl to feel it had been completely her choice. Thirdly, when I slept with a target, I never lingered afterward or spent time with them doing anything other than the physical. There was no real social interaction. That was so the girl couldn’t get the idea that anything other than sex was on the table. The fourth rule was no virgins and that rule had a precedent. There had been a girl one year, Sophie, who had nearly been the end of me. She had decided to save herself until university and then marked me out as her first. I hadn’t realised that. Luckily, we’d never taken it beyond a kiss before she revealed her innocence. It gave me pause and then Sophie started texting me with crazy obsessive regularity. The texts were emotional, pleading for me to return her love and I knew I’d made a big mistake. I cut off any contact beyond the professional. It was the wrong move. She threatened to report my infraction to the university and I knew if she did, it might be the end of my job. If it didn’t, it still might mean I’d never be able to indulge my little hobby and I wasn’t ready to stop, despite the Sophie incident. I didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t listening to any of my reasoning and I knew she could blow my cover at any moment. And then she started seeing a boy in the class and it just stopped. I knew I’d been lucky and I learned my lesson well. No virgins, ever. And the next year came Caitlin, who was new to women but certainly not to sex, and normal service was resumed.
I was musing on my greatest hits when a bird like rap on the door startled me. It wasn't Chloe, her knock was more forceful that that. It demanded acknowledgment. This knock barely wanted to be noticed.
'Come in.'
A head popped around the door. It was Penny. I was pleasantly surprised to see her. Since that first day that she'd spoken to me, I hadn't heard another word out of her. She just sat quietly in class, a watchful mute. I had thought that initial conversation had been an aberration but here she was, tiptoeing nervously into my office, looking like she was stepping in front of a firing squad.
'Is this OK? I was just wondering if you had a minute to talk?'
She started blushing and rubbing the back of her neck and I could see she needed some encouragement.
'Of course, come in and sit down Penny.'
As before, she had a small reaction to me saying her name. It seemed to scare her somehow. She sat opposite me, pulling at her clothes, avoiding eye contact.
'Erm, I was wondering if you'd had a chance to look at my short story yet? I know you said we'd get feedback next week but I don't know, I've been a bit nervous waiting, I've been having trouble sleeping.'
I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. I knew full well that some of my students suffered terribly in the first month and I did my best to ease it, but there was only so much I could do to stand between them and their own meltdowns. But there was something I could do here.
‘I was planning on reading everyone’s stories this weekend but I'll tell you what, if you've got a copy on you, give it to me now and I'll read it right away. You can come and see me at three o’clock for feedback. How does that sound?'
She looked simultaneously relieved and freshly frightened but she pulled out the story and handed it to me.
'Thank you, Miss Hawke'
'You can call me Julia.'
She gave a small bashful smile.
'Julia.'
I smiled and put the pages down on my desk and made a shoo motion with my hand.
'Well, you better leave me to it then'
She nodded and dashed out. I began to read.
Chapter 4
What had I done? I'd just given Julia Hawke a short story to read and she was going to hate it. Worse, she was going to think it was smut.
I'd sat down to write a few days ago and Julia's advice had rung around my head. She said many insightful things but the thing that stuck was 'start as close to the climax of the story as possible.' And right away, I'd thought about something that had happened when I was sixteen. I have to admit, it was rather a literal interpretation of her advice but I thought about the first and only orgasm I ever had.
I was doing my homework in the kitchen and my Mum was cooking dinner while the washing machine was whirring, cleaning my school uniform for the morning. All pretty normal but when the washing machine had gone to spin cycle, it suddenly starting vibrating and crashing about in its housing, banging at the kitchen work top. My mum pitched a fit and ran to find my dad and I was left with the possessed washing machine. It was whirring so hard that it started to move out from under the counter top, dancing across the kitchen. I wasn't sure what to do so I did the only thing I could think of and jumped onto the machine to hold it down. And straight away, that vibration travelled right up inside me and I started to feel this feeling downstairs. It was like something had been switched on down there and I could feel this sensation, like I was lit up inside, and my heart began to race and my thighs felt as though they were lifting me up, like a feather on the wind. And the light inside me became white hot and I heard this animal moan travel up my throat and out of my mouth. And then the machine finished the cycle and the feeling faded away and my parents walked in. I realised I was still on the washer so I jumpe
d off and ran out of the kitchen while they were looking at the machine. I ran straight to my bedroom where I sat wondering what on earth had just happened. Was something wrong with me? Eventually, I googled it and found out that it had been an orgasm. Then my mum had called me down for dinner. I'd been pink cheeked throughout the meal and Mum thought I was coming down with a cold, but I knew it wasn't a sickness. The feeling I’d felt sitting on that washer had been pleasurable but scary. My body had done something I hadn’t known it could do but I knew I wanted it to happen again. But the washing machine got fixed and that was that. I never had that feeling again and I didn’t know if I ever would.
Pondering it now, as I walked to the cafeteria to meet Will for lunch, I suddenly couldn't think why I'd chosen that topic, why it was all I could think to write about. The other students probably wrote serious stories about serious things and I'd written a dirty story. Not only that, I'd demanded that Julia Hawke read it first! What had I been thinking?
I walked into the cafeteria and saw Will eating an enormous filled baguette. He was always eating but he was still as lean as a whippet, his fast metabolism and love of sport kept the fat off. He waved me over and I sat down. He picked up on my mood immediately.
'Hey, what's up with you?'
I wasn't sure if I could explain to Will or if he'd understand, but I needed to offload.
'Will, have you ever been embarrassed by…'
'No.'
'I wasn't finished yet. Wait a second, did you just say you've never been embarrassed?'
'I don't think so, no, not really.'
I sighed but I wasn't really surprised. Will didn't suffer from being overly complicated. It was what I loved about him usually, but right now I needed someone who would understand what was bothering me. Will clearly wasn’t that person but he wasn't one to let something drop.
'Can't you tell me anyway?'
'I wrote a story and I think it's no good.'
'What's it about? Can I read it?'
'No!'
I realised the protest had come out a bit too loudly, but there was no way I would ever let Will read the story. It concerned feelings that I could never share with him. In all the time we'd been together, we'd never shared that kind of intimacy. My family believed in waiting until marriage and I'd decided that I believed in it too. Will had always respected that, a fact for which I was grateful. I didn't know if Will and I would get married but it seemed likely and until that day, we would wait. However, it made the subject of my story a bit awkward, that was for sure.
'I'd rather you didn't. I'm embarrassed that it's not good enough. And when my professor reads it, she'll know I'm rubbish.'
Will shrugged.
'So what?'
I looked at him furiously but I could see he wasn't being callous, he really meant it.
'Seriously, if you did do something that wasn't good, your professor is there to tell you how to fix it. You get something wrong, you learn from it. It'll make you better, so that means it’s good.’
I opened my mouth to disagree and then I realised that maybe he had a point. But it didn't comfort me. I didn't want him to fix the problem, I wanted him to sympathise, but it just wasn't the way he was wired. If he didn't get it, he didn't get it. There was no point trying to explain it to him.
'Yeah, I guess you're right.'
Will smiled and I could see he really did think he'd helped. But all I could think of was my meeting with Julia later and how her face would look when she delicately tried to explain why I'd written a load of crap.
Chapter 5
I'd just finished ready Penny's story when Chloe walked in. I barely noticed. All through the meeting, I was on autopilot, my mind straying to what I'd just read. It had knocked me sideways. It had been bold, brave, funny and sad. No student in all my time at Medford had ever written something this daring in their first term. And who would have thought it could come out of someone like Penny? She appeared such a classic good girl.
I'm not naive. I know that everyone, no matter how they look, has their little secrets. But she had put them out into the world, it was right on the page for all to see. It wasn't that it was about sex, it was that it was about shame. She'd looked her shame in the eye and acknowledged it. It took a lot of writers their whole lives to take that kind of chance in their work.
'...So what do you think?'
I realised that I hadn't heard a word that Chloe had said and she was expecting some sort of reply.
'Well, I'll need to give it some thought. Why don't you email me a roundup of your thoughts so I can consider it more carefully?'
Chloe looked flummoxed and it was clear that she hadn't really come in here looking for advice on her story. More than likely, she'd come in here to do a little flirting, test the waters. At any other time, I would have considered this small reveal a crucial move in our chess game, but right now, I didn't care. Chloe could wait. I wanted to talk to Penny about her story. I ushered Chloe out and picked up Penny's pages again, wanting to give it another read before I saw her.
Three o’clock came around and sure enough, there was a tap on my door.
'Come in, Penny'.
Her head popped around the door as if she wanted to see my face before fully committing the rest of her body to the room. I could see she was trying to read my mind but I gave her nothing. I'll admit it, I was playing with her.
'Take a seat.'
She came in and sat down and it was clear without taking her pulse that her heart was racing in her chest.
'So I read your story...'
I left a pause and I could see she was on the edge of her seat.
'...And I loved it.'
Penny's mouth dropped open and it was obvious she had been taking for granted that my reaction was going to be negative.
'You... You liked it.'
'No, the word I used was 'loved', Penny. I loved it. There's perhaps a few places I could make some suggestions for tightening, but all in all, it's a strong piece.’
Penny said nothing. The girl looked shocked. I let her have a moment before I pushed on.
'So my question is, what do you want to do with this?'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean there are competitions you could enter with it. You might win, you might not. But either way, it's a good piece and people should see it.'
Penny looked terror struck.
'There's one competition in particular that I think you should enter it into. The prize is four days at a writer's retreat where you write a story with intensive teaching from some good writers. And me.'
I smiled at my little joke but Penny didn't smile back. She was clearly starting to panic.
'You know I'm doing a business degree, don't you?'
'Honestly, Penny, I don't care what degree you're doing. I just like to encourage talent where I see it. You can think about it if you like. I'm not going to push you into anything you don't want to do. It's up to you.'
Penny nodded and I could see there was conflict in her.
'Can I ask you something?'
She looked at me nervously.
'Ok, yes.'
'Why did you take my class if you're doing business?'
She was quiet for a moment and she looked out of the window of my office, toward a lawn where people were laughing. She looked wistful.
'I guess I just feel like there are things inside me that I can't say. Things I need to say. Writing lets out the parts of me that don't have anywhere else to go.'
The sentiment moved me. It was clear to me then that Penny Stone was not your average eighteen year old. And I should know. I get to know them pretty intimately. Suddenly, Chloe popped into my head and she didn't seem so exciting anymore. She seemed silly.
Penny suddenly looked embarrassed.
'It sounds stupid.'
I shook my head, trying to pull myself back together.
'It's not stupid. It's the same reason I started writing.'
That inspired her to
give me the only real full smile I'd ever seen on her face and for the first time, I saw beyond her glasses and her conservative dress. I saw what I would have seen right away if I hadn't been so consumed with superficial details. Penny was beautiful. My newly open eyes could now see her large jade green eyes, her full sensuous lips and perfect milky skin. The thought shocked me. I didn't want to see her that way, as another target. She was clearly very unworldly and her story had made it clear she'd never had sex. She could never be my plaything. But in the moment that she smiled, something had broken open in me and I had a disturbing feeling that it could not be closed. I needed to get her out of my office quickly.
