Pushing the Limits: A Student/Teacher Romance

by Brooke Cumberland

  “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to not get all sappy on me.” I point a finger at her as we walk out the door, wine glasses in hand, and down to her apartment.

  “No promises.” She opens her door and nearly trips over herself in the process. “Especially since I’m starting to see double.”

  I laugh and shut the door behind us. When we enter her apartment, I see Zoe’s sitting on the couch in her rubber duck footie pajamas stuffing her face with popcorn.

  “I’m too drunk to even make fun of you right now.” I plop my ass next to her. “Pass the popcorn.”

  She shifts the bowl into my lap and sighs. “There is no reason why three hot girls should be wallowing with wine and popcorn on a Friday night,” she states. “What is wrong with the universe?”

  “Rather, what’s wrong with us?” I offer.

  “Aspen has a secret.” Kendall giggles, sitting on the loveseat. “But I’m not supposed to tell. So shhh….” She covers a finger over her lips and Zoe laughs.

  “Apparently, you’ve forgotten what the meaning of what a secret is!” I say, shoving another handful of popcorn into my mouth.

  “God, did you save any wine for me?” Zoe wrinkles her nose.

  “Why do you think we came over here? We needed to stock up.”

  “Okay, grabbing the wine…” Zoe stands up and walks toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare start without me!”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “I’m going to need a lot more wine for this.”

  Zoe walks back in, waving a bottle of wine in each hand and an extra glass for her. “Good thing Kendall’s a wine-o. We’re always packing over here.”

  She pours us each a healthy amount and sits down next to me. “All right, so spill. What’s this secret?”

  I bring the glass to my lips and down half of it before setting it back down. I choke it back and wipe my mouth. “Okay, ready?” I exhale and they nod in return. “Remember when I mentioned I kissed my professor?”

  “Morgan,” Kendall clarifies with a satisfied grin.

  I nod.

  “Well, we started secretly dating and sleeping together,” I begin, trying to keep my emotions in check. “And I fell hard for him. Like full out making the walls rattle, can’t get enough, butterflies in my stomach every time I’m around him kind of falling.”

  “Holy shit!” Zoe gasps and Kendall’s eyes go wide in shock.

  I purse my lips and nod, my cheeks reddening. “Yes.”

  “Oh my God! This is so much better than the Housewives of Orange County.” Zoe grabs the remote and shuts the TV off. She shifts her body and faces me. I flash her a playful scowl and she smirks.

  “I’ve let him in closer than I’ve ever let a guy before. It felt foreign, weird, and I was scared. But after finding out the horrible news about my sister and dealing with my mom, he still never left. He just kept reminding me how much he was here for me and it was so much different than I was used to. No one’s ever really been there for me like that before.”

  “He sounds like a keeper,” Kendall admires with wide, doe eyes.

  “Wait,” Zoe interrupts. “So what’s the matter? Are you scared to let him in all the way?”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy at first, but he managed to break down my walls and little by little, I was letting him in. In fact, everything was going perfectly.”

  “Then what?” Kendall asks, taking a sip and locking her eyes on me.

  I lower my eyes, trying to keep it under control, but it’s a struggle. “Then I broke up with him.”

  Kendall spews her wine all over her lap as I blink the tears away that threaten to burn my eyes.

  “Jesus, Kendall,” Zoe complains, shifting away from her and laughing.

  “Well, what the hell, Aspen? I thought this was a happy story.” She knits her brows, wiping away the wine off her clothes.

  I narrow my eyes at her and point to my wine glass. “Would I be drowning myself in bottle after bottle of wine if it were?”

  “Well, what the hell happened?”

  “Someone caught us,” I finally say. “She said she’d go to the board and get my scholarship and grad school references stripped if I didn’t break it off with him.”

  “What a jealous bitch,” Zoe blurts out. “Why didn’t you tell her to fuck a duck or something?”

  I snort, shaking my head. “Because I actually need to get my degree and graduate, or I’ll be stuck here, living next to you guys,” I tease.

  “Well, besides that.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe because a part of me really is scared to let him in all the way. Hurting him and breaking it off now was just easier than waiting for the inevitable.”

  The truth in my words feels like a knife twisting in my heart.

  “So you’re going to let some desperate housewife, who’s clearly not getting laid, dictate your future?” Kendall challenges.

  “What choice do I have? He’s raising his niece all by himself. He could get fired and then what?”

  “I just don’t think you should run away because of her or because you’re scared what will happen. That doesn’t seem right at all,” Zoe insists, the wine making her a bit too loose.

  “It’s not,” I agree. “But it’s a lot to risk. And then what if I risk it for nothing?”

  Kendall sets her glass down and sits up.

  “Sometimes it’s letting them in that helps you feel whole again. Even if you feel like a mess yourself. Maybe it’s not meant to last, but maybe it is. You’ll never know if all you do is run away.”

  “Even knowing how it ends up?” I inquire.

  The corner of her lips tilts up slightly. “Yeah. Being in love is one of the greatest feelings in the world. You risk your heart, but it has to be better than going through life without it at all.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” Zoe says.

  “Love is a battlefield,” Kendall adds with a giggle.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. No more clichés needed.” I laugh into my wine glass, finishing up the last sip.

  I think about everything they said while we sit and watch movies. I wish it were just my own insecurities to work through, but knowing that someone knows about us with the potential to destroy us both—I can’t do that to him.

  MORGAN

  Nothing makes sense.

  Not without her anyway.

  Seeing her, pretending my heart isn’t shattering every time I look at her, is getting harder and harder.

  But I do what I do best in times like these. I distract myself, drowning myself in work, hang out with Natalia and sleep.

  Mostly sleep.

  I’m trying to understand it all, but I just can’t. I fight back the tears, but after a while, I give up and surrender to them. I don’t care anymore.

  As I’m making dinner for Nat and me—as she’s glued to the TV watching some game show—the doorbell rings. And then it rings again. Nat barely even flinches.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” I over-exaggerate. But the moment I open the door, I wish I hadn’t.

  “Fuck…” The word comes out before I can stop myself.

  “Guess I deserve that.” Jennifer stands across from me, pursing her lips in a please don’t slam the door on me look. I won’t lie, it sounds tempting as much as the sight of her makes my blood boil, but trying to be the better man, I don’t.

  I shake my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “It’s all right.”

  We stand there, silent and awkward.

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping we could talk,” she says sincerely. “I promise I won’t stay long.”

  “Did my mother put you up to this?” I narrow my eyes, trying to read her.

  “No, I swear she didn’t.” She sounds genuine, so I push the burning hatred in my heart aside for now.

  After a beat, I open the door wider and let her in.

  “Smells good. Have you learn
ed to cook since you left California?” she asks, taking off her coat.

  “I’ve been practicing.”

  Natalia comes strolling in and snickers. “He lies.”

  “Nat, go to your room. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

  “What?” She gasps. “Why do I have to leave?”

  “Because I have a guest, and I don’t need you eavesdropping on our conversation.”

  She smirks and shakes a finger at me. “Getting smarter, Uncle Morgan.”

  Jennifer furrows her brows as she watches Nat walk down the hall to her room.

  “What was that all about?”

  I shake my head and walk toward the kitchen, her following behind. “She thinks I don’t get women.”

  She snorts. “Well…”

  “Trust me, I know. Apparently, I know absolutely nothing at all.” My chest tightens as I think about Aspen. I busy myself by the stove and direct all attention back to her. “So, tell me why you’re here.”

  She sits at the breakfast bar and lowers her eyes. “I want to tell you what happened,” she begins, but I’m quick to cut her off.

  “Jen, don’t. It’s been five years. I’m trying to move on.”

  “I know. And I want you to move on. That’s why you need to hear this.”

  I inhale, sighing, as I don’t feel prepared at all to have this conversation. “If I let you talk, no more uninvited visits.”

  “Deal.”

  “All right. Well, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. So make it quick.”

  “I don’t know if you ever knew, but Ryan and I didn’t stay together after you left. We stayed friends, but that was it. I know you don’t want to know anything about us, which I don’t blame you at all, but I think you need to know that Ryan beat himself up every day about what he did to you. He knew it was the ultimate betrayal and he hated himself for it.”

  My throat tightens, unable to say anything.

  “Up until then, he was in a really bad place. Once you left, he went and got himself help. He went to therapy and wanted to be the best dad he could be for Natalia. He wanted to be a better person. He loved you so much, Morgan. Even though he was older, he looked up to you and valued your opinion on so much. After a few years, you hadn’t come back. He started to lose himself again, but Natalia helped him stay on track. When your mom mentioned the will to him, he refused to change it. He knew you were the absolute best person for her and you really are. You’re everything and more to that little girl.”

  I tilt my head up to the ceiling, not wanting to release the tears, but her words are so genuine and soft, they burn right through me.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I know you, Morgan. You’re dwelling on how you didn’t get back home in time. The guilt is so obvious on your face, and it keeps you from moving forward.”

  “How would you know any of this, Jen? You haven’t been in my life. You don’t know anything about my life now.” I can’t stop the defensive tone in my voice, but I hate being told how I’m supposed to be feeling with all of this.

  “I know, but I’m right. You know I’m right.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to give her the satisfaction that she is right.

  “You can’t move on when you never confront your feelings. You bury them, and I know that’s what you’ve been doing since he passed away.”

  “Yeah, well…who else should I blame?”

  “Blame whoever you want…but don’t push it away as if it didn’t happen.” She sighs, choking back her own tears. “Your mom told me you don’t paint anymore.”

  I shake my head and choke in a laugh. “Of course she did. That’s what I get for telling my mom.”

  “That’s a shame. You’re really talented.”

  “I haven’t exactly been inspired.”

  She stands up and pushes her chair back in, wrapping her jacket around her arm. “Well, find what does inspire you and hang on to it. But don’t let the guilt keep you from living your own life. Not just for you, but for that precious little girl, too. She needs you more than anything.”

  I watch as she walks away without a glance back. As much as the anger builds up inside me at what she did, I know her words are true.

  I have been beating myself up and probably always will if I don’t let the feelings surface and learn to deal with them properly.

  Being with Aspen, I thought I was. I really thought I could get passed it or at least learn to move forward. I thought we could fight our battles together and come out stronger, but now I feel so lost without her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ASPEN

  I can’t remember the last time I’ve really slept. My sleeping pills make me tired enough to get a few solid hours in, but I still wake up numb.

  It feels like months, but it’s only been a couple weeks. If I’m not at work or school, I’m in bed not sleeping. I listen to Christina Perri and The Band Perry on repeat until I cry myself to sleep, which actually only ends up being a couple hours at a time until a memory of him—us—wake me up.

  He doesn’t look at me during class. I can’t blame him, but it’s killing me. I can’t even blame him for being upset about that, but he hardly even fought for me. The moment I told him the truth about the Ariel Rose Collection, he just let me go. He walked out, ripping my heart in two on the way.

  I’ve been trying to distract myself as best as I can with working a couple extra shifts at the gallery and chatting with Ellie—anything to avoid the urge to look at Morgan.

  The semester ends in about a month, and then I won’t have to see his tense, expressionless face twice a week anymore. I can see he’s putting on a front, smiling and cracking jokes with the other students—except me, of course.

  Ellie notices a change in my behavior and pushes me for answers. I play it off as having a stressful couple of weeks. With finals approaching, I’ve been staying up late studying and coming to school overtired. It’s not farfetched considering my zombie-like look, so she buys it.

  I should’ve known I couldn’t avoid them for long. After last weekend’s wine fest, I’ve avoided hanging out with them so I could wallow alone.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask casually, not trying to sound rude, but today’s a day I’d rather just suffer alone in silence.

  Kendall and Zoe stand at my door with their arms firmly crossed and a sly smile on their faces. “You’re not spending your birthday alone in pink kitten pajamas and fuzzy socks.”

  I look down and scowl. “What’s wrong with fuzzy socks?”

  Kendall snorts and Zoe pushes her way inside. “We come bearing gifts, birthday girl. Come on.”

  I groan, shutting the door behind them as they both walk in and aim right for the couch. “These gifts better get me drunk.”

  “Would we get you anything else?”

  We settle in with our glasses of wine, and I lay against the arm of the couch before Kendall eyes me up and down.

  “So you look like death.”

  “Thanks.” I deadpan.

  “I take it you didn’t karate chop Ms. Bitch’s face off?” Zoe asks with a brow arched, sitting on the other end of the couch.

  “Nope.”

  “I bet the three of us could take her,” Aspen offers, getting a small smile out of me.

  “It’s not that,” I assure them, even though it’s part of it. “Just not a fan of celebrating my birthday.” It’s the truth, but after six birthdays, I’ve gotten really good at staying numb to it.

  “All right, up. We’re going out to do something fun for your birthday. You need a distraction.” Kendall stands up.

  “I have a distraction. Her name is Chardonnay.” I hold up my almost empty wine glass and grin.

  “You can’t just drink yourself to death.” Zoe grabs my hand and pulls me up. “You drink while doing something fun. That way it looks recreational.” She winks, and I resist the urge to laugh.

  I don’t have the energy to argue, so I do as th
ey say.

  An hour later, I’m showered, dressed, and looking semi-decent. Kendall insists on driving, so I can’t escape early. Not that I’d even try at this point. Anything is probably better than wallowing in my apartment alone.

  “Where are we going?” I ask from the backseat.

  Yeah, she wouldn’t even let me sit in the front.

  “You’ll see. Be there soon,” she calls from the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t you think turning on the childproof locks is a bit extreme?” I pout. She meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I can tell she’s scowling at me. “Fine,” I mutter.

  We pull up to a small Ma and Pop shop with large white windows and a chandelier in the foyer. Above the door reads, The Art Shoppe.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Come and see,” Zoe says, opening the door and getting out.

  Kendall opens the door for me with a wide smirk.

  “Come on,” I groan. “Why are we here?”

  “It’s called a Sip ’n Paint and, Aspen Danielle Evans, you are going to enjoy it. Do you hear me?” she says in a motherly tone.

  I try to hold in my laughter. “Fine.” I say and follow her in. “As long as I can Sip A lot ’n Paint.”

  She snorts and leads us through the entrance.

  By the end of our Sip ’n Paint party, I feel much better—probably because I’ve managed to have six glasses of wine—but nevertheless, it ended up being more fun than sitting in my apartment alone. Kendall only drank half a glass since she was driving, so I took the liberty of drinking hers for her.

  That’s what friends are for.

  Once I’m home and the alcohol burns off, I’m alone again—alone in my apartment reminiscing about everything I’ve managed to lose in my life. I try to remember that I only have one year left of college before I move on to graduate school. I could go anywhere. Move. Travel. But even with all my options and potential experience, I’d choose to be here with Morgan. I’d leave it all behind if it meant we could be together.

  Ms. Jones has been so wrapped up in the gallery, she hasn’t noticed anything at all. Or at least, she’s pretending not to. During my weekend shift, I overhear her phone conversation.