by Havana Scott
“Ah, yes, the best things in life are unexpected. Well, that’s it, MacKenzie. I only wanted your take on this situation. I know sometimes students get upset and try to blame their teachers for it. That was all I needed to hear.”
I shake hands with Dean Albert and we talk about a couple more innocuous things. Leaving the office, I feel a compelling contradiction of overwhelming relief and guilt. But I’m free. I’m free to finish the semester, free to possibly receive a prestigious award, and free to plan the rest of my life.
The best things in life are unexpected.
I’m almost out of the building, ready to go home when I pause at the door.
Yes, they are.
If Sabine would’ve been in that office, she would’ve had mixed feelings, too. She would be happy, on one hand, that I didn’t get in trouble, but she’d also take it very personally that I denied her existence in my life in front of someone who matters. After I helped her, taught her, fell for her, I then denied her. When presented with the opportunity to tell the truth, I denied her again.
What kind of man am I?
A shitty one.
So, I might have the nomination removed. So, I might lose my job. So, I might have to start all over again if I go back into Dean Albert’s office. Are any of those consequences more difficult to deal with than losing the woman I love? There’s no guarantee that Sabine will even want to see me again after this week, and she’ll never have to find out about this meeting. But if I don’t do the right thing, I’ll never be able to live with myself.
Standing there, I stare out the glass door at the campus filled with students, spring sunshine, green everywhere and flowers. Spring is about renewal. Flowers are about new growth. Sabine LaFleur is the embodiment of growth for the better. Over the last six weeks, I put Sabine to the test, asked her to grow, to change. I pushed her to the limits. Like it was so simple. She did it all without complaint, because she’s a risk-taker.
Meanwhile, I live my life as planned. Hanging back, just me and my fear.
That’s not who I am.
I’m a teacher. And the first rule of teaching—at any level, in any subject—is to never stop learning. He who dares to teach must never stop learning. The plaque is above my freaking desk, for fuck’s sake. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t practice what I preach?
I love Sabine.
I love everything about her. Even Hazell from the weekend knew she couldn’t compete when she heard me talk about her. Life starts now. Fuck it if I get in trouble. I’ll deal with the consequences, and if I lose Cambridge too, so be it. There’ll be other options.
I take in the last moments of normalcy. Then, spinning in place and heading back to the dean’s office, I find him gathering his bags ready to go home. He’s surprised to see me. “MacKenzie! You missed me so soon?” He chuckles light-heartedly.
“Sir…” I hover in the doorway. I step in and close the door. “The report is true,” I tell him, watching his face dampen from worry-free to oh-shit. “But not with Miss Evans. With someone else.”
21
SABINE
My thoughts on going home for the summer are a mixed bag of shit.
Last year, I looked forward to it, because I got to see my family again. This year, I don’t know if I’m coming back. There’s no way I’m going back to Liam’s class, which pretty much guarantees an F in his class, because Quackenbush had set the final exam to be worth like a million points. And if I can’t meet my requirements, I might not make it into the Elementary Education Program unless I make up a course this summer.
Besides, I don’t know if I want to come back.
How am I supposed to walk campus again? Or pass Room 17B? How am I supposed to see the dogwood trees, the flower-lined paths, without thinking of him?
I won’t say Liam was a jerk—he wasn’t. He helped me through a hard time and taught me a lot about myself. There will always be a place for him in my heart. But he was conflicted, and loving me was just too hard for him. Sucks not being the person someone wishes you’d be.
As I pack boxes for my summer off, I try not to look at things that remind me of him—the pics on my phone we took together, the Human Sexuality textbook, the infamous notebook that started it all… Other things, too, like his silver tie which I maybe-sorta stole from his house, the Minion he won for me at the fair, and the flower collection he gave me. Fleurs for LaFleur, he’d always say.
It’s Tuesday—three days since I saw him at Pine Island. Three days since I saw him tucked in a corner with another woman. She said he only spoke of me, but she might’ve been covering for him. Who knows? I might be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if we were together, but we’re not. So, it matters like an umbrella on a dry day.
A text comes in.
My chest trembles. Even though it won’t be him, my brain keeps trying to imagine that it is. I have to make it stop torturing me. I glance at it—LIAM <3. Maybe I should remove that heart.
You’re going to get a call.
What do you mean?
Dean Albert, in about five minutes.
Why???
Don’t worry. Just answer it.
What the hell? He warns me that the dean will be calling, but doesn’t say why?
Is this about skipping class? About Tanelle? God, no—how stupid can I be…it’s about Liam and me. The brevity of his texts tells me he can’t talk. Is he with the dean now? I pace my room, leaving racetracks on the rug when at last, someone calls from a local number.
Holy shit, holy shit…stay calm.
I can’t answer. I’m literally rooted to the floor, frozen. I let voicemail get it. Somehow, it will make things easier, give me a few extra minutes to prepare. A minute later, I get a notification to pick up.
“Miss LaFleur, it’s Dean Albert Perkins from Crofton Cliffs University.” His voice sounds so official and elderly, it scares me stiff. “Would you mind coming down to Suite 201 in the Curtis Hall Building as soon as you hear this? It’s urgent. Thank you.”
Urgent. The Curtis Hall Building means it’s official university business. That’s where they do student orientation and hold pep rallies. Suite 201 is one of the administrative offices. Ugh. This is the end of my life. I can hear my mother screaming now…
I haven’t been walking much to class lately, since Leo or Liam usually drive me, but it feels nice to reconnect with the campus. Maybe I never should’ve stopped walking in the first place. I might’ve never gotten sucked into the temptation vortex. Walking is part of the college experience—fucking your teacher isn’t.
When I enter the building, I slow down considerably. I have no idea what to expect, but I made sure to dress like a mature young lady, just in case. Not that it’ll matter. I’ve never been in trouble before in my life. The most I’ve ever gotten in trouble was with my 9th grade English teacher for being a smart-ass in one of my essays. Slap on the wrist.
I have a feeling this will be worse.
Suite 201.
Before I pull on the door handle, I take a deep breath, willing my nerves to quiet. I enter the room and I’m hit with a vision no one ever wants to see—six or seven college “officials” all sitting around a U-shaped table, including Dean Albert, while Liam sits at a round table at one end, knees apart, bouncing nervously.
I assess his expression first—sympathetic, worried, maybe even loving.
“Hello, Miss LaFleur. Have a seat, please.” Dean Albert gestures to an empty seat on the opposite end as Liam. I sit and try not to fidget. Four men and two women. I’m not sure if that works in my favor or against me in this case. “How are you today?”
“Fine,” I answer, then feeling like a child, revise my reply. “Very well. How are you?”
The panel of “judges” lightens a bit, some nodding while others lightly smile. Smiles are good. I recognize Mrs. Haines, the undergraduate program director. At least none of them are scowling.
“Miss LaFleur,” Dean Albert begins, pressing his fing
ertips together like a little rooftop. “I called you here to answer a few questions. Dr. MacKenzie is your instructor, yes?”
“Yes. For Human Sexuality.” Ouch. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that one painfully obvious.
“Ah…” He clears his throat. “Yes. And you’re in your sophomore year with us?”
“Yes, sir. Beginning my junior year in the fall.” Unless I’m kicked out.
“We have your grades here.” He peruses a computer printout. “Seems that your GPA is solid. You’ve received mostly As in your coursework. You’ve been doing well and have applied for the Elementary Ed. Program. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir, that’s correct.”
I glance at Liam. He keeps his silvery blue eyes down, tapping a pencil against his knee.
Dean Albert removes his spectacles and rubs his face. “Miss LaFleur, are you aware that our school strongly advises against consensual sexual relationships between students and professors?”
Let. Me. Die. Now. How did he find out? “I wasn’t aware of any policy, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
Dean Albert is about to say something when Mrs. Haines interrupts him. “Dean Albert, if I may,” she says with a raise of a finger, “I would like to clarify that there is no strict policy against it, only that it’s frowned upon. Crofton Cliffs is different from other schools employing blanket policies to forbid these relationships in that there’s no hardcore rule about it.”
Is that true? So, am I safe? I can go now? Pretty please?
“Yes, Mrs. Haines, frowned upon is the right choice of words, because nobody takes kindly to the exploitation of the power dynamic between teacher and student, especially one who directly affects the grades of said student. Miss LaFleur, do you feel you’ve been taken advantage of?”
“I’ve never felt exploited, sir. I’m twenty years old and capable of making my own decisions. I mean, I understand why it doesn’t look good, but it’s not illegal.”
“Whether it’s illegal isn’t the issue,” Dean Albert says. “The issue is the impropriety of the situation and how it will affect the rest of your time here. Do you understand that the board reserves the right to deny your entrance to your selected undergraduate program if we feel that you or Dr. MacKenzie might be a liability for violation of laws against sexual harassment?”
“I…so I’m not getting into the Elementary Ed. Program?”
“We’re not making these decisions today. We’re simply listening to your point of view.”
I hate to tell him, but he hasn’t listened to my point of view at all. It would take a whole day to explain, but I would gladly if I felt they would consider it. Mrs. Haines keeps looking at me sympathetically.
Half the board fidgets in some way. I’m sure none of them were expecting to be dealing with this so close to the semester’s end. “Dr. MacKenzie…” One of the other administrators faces Liam. “Why don’t you tell us how this relationship came to be.”
Liam flips up his palms and keeps a passive tone. “Mr. Barris, it’s really quite simple. Sabine and I met after class to discuss one of the topics in our chapter. We felt an immediate connection.” He looks at me across the room, and I fight hard. Fight not to cry. “Not just a sexual one, but a real bond. We tried staying away from each other, but our attraction was too strong.”
“So strong even a Professor of the Year nomination couldn’t correct it, Dr. MacKenzie?” Dean Albert narrows his eyes at Liam. I feel bad for Liam, sitting there having to explain when I’m the one who insisted we be together.
“Sir,” Liam says, “this shouldn’t affect my impeccable history of service to this school and its students. Sabine and I were as caught by surprise by our feelings as any of you.”
“It was my fault,” I blurt, raising my hand. I put my hand down. This isn’t a classroom, though I so wish it were. “He told me we couldn’t pursue it for a long time, if ever, but I insisted. I insisted a lot, in fact. We’re here now because of me.” Silent tears come anyway, and I brush them aside.
“Miss LaFleur, the professor is thirty-two years old and an experienced instructor. He’s capable of knowing right from wrong. I’m sure you didn’t have to twist his arm,” the younger man says with a smirk. Turning to Liam, he asks, “What is the status of the relationship currently, MacKenzie?”
Liam’s sigh could knock me off my seat even from this distance. His gaze holds mine. “I asked Sabine that we take a break, long enough for the semester to be over, perhaps longer, but I know she’s been disappointed in me.”
I stare at my hands and try not to let my emotions get the best of me.
“Gentlemen…ladies…” Liam stands to address the panel. “It’s entirely my fault. If you’re going to punish anyone, punish me. Remove my nomination, fire me, do whatever you need to do, but please leave her out of it. Miss LaFleur did nothing except make me see things differently, make me proud of her, make me change my mind about what I want in life. She challenged me and taught me so much about myself. She’s the hardest working student in my class, she takes her courses seriously, she wants to learn and become an amazing teacher in the near future. I love her,” he adds.
I chance looking at him through tears.
Is that true? Did he sacrifice himself for me? Did he admit in front of a room of people that I mean something to him? That I’m not a dirty secret or meaningless sex swept under the rug. Not that the panel will care one bit, but I do.
I bite the inside of my lip but the tears flood my face like a split-open Hoover Dam.
Mrs. Haines gets out of her seat, grabs a tissue from a tissue box, and brings it to me. “Here you go, dear.”
“Thank you.” What a nice lady.
The panel comes together to discuss everything then separates into their seats again. “Dr. MacKenzie, seeing that you have a stellar record of service to this school with no other incidences,” Dean Albert says, putting his spectacles back on, “we will review this more carefully and take everything you’ve told us into consideration. As for you, Miss LeFleur, I will leave your admission to the Elementary Ed. Program to the discretion of Mrs. Haines. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
What is there to say? I can’t make excuses.
I shrug. “I broke the rules, sir. Fair is fair. And since I love Liam, it’s only fair that I stop attending his classes, which I have. If that results in an F for a final grade, so be it. I’ll take an extra course this summer to make up for it. I don’t have an apartment to stay in, but I’ll figure it out. If you decide I shouldn’t be let into the program, Mrs. Haines, then that’s fine.”
“Fair enough,” Dean Albert says, gathering his papers into a neat pile. “We will get back to the two of you once we’ve made our decisions. But MacKenzie, I think it’s safe to say we’ll be retracting your nomination at the very least. Last thing we need is the College Board after us for nominating a teacher who has crossed boundaries with his student.”
“Yes, sir,” Liam says with the tightest lip smirk I’ve ever seen. This is terrible. He wanted that award so badly, and now he’s not going to get it because of me.
“And MacKenzie?”
“Yes, sir?”
“If you do stay on board with us…no more teaching Human Sexuality.”
Liam licks his lips to keep from cracking a smile. “Yes, sir.”
I run out of that meeting faster than if a T-Rex had crashed through the ceiling and velociraptors had jumped in to feast on the admissions faculty. I don’t wait for Liam, nor do I want to talk to him right now. I literally can’t breathe. I’ve never been through anything as negatively intense in my life. It reminded me of the day my parents sat me outside on the back patio and told us they were getting a divorce. I still remember their faces as they waited for my reply, but I couldn’t speak. I felt like my life was being decided for me, so there was nothing I could say.
Running across campus, I stop underneath a giant oak to catch my breath and finally let it all out. The tears, the pain, the
embarrassment of it all. Even if Liam took the blame for it, I know it was my fault. I started this. First with a journal, then with a stupid question—Will you be my surrogate?
So, why am I crying? Wasn’t I the one who wanted Liam to acknowledge me in public, to finally show me where we stand? I got what I wanted, didn’t I? He loves me. He took a huge fall for me. I should be running into his arms, not crying under a tree like a big baby.
Of course, he finds me right away. Seems we’re destined to keep finding our way toward each other, no matter how hard we try to stay away. Hands on his hips, he catches his breath as well. “Why did you say that? About not letting you into the program. I was covering for you.”
I face him. He looks different today.
Not a worried professor, but a guy.
Just a regular guy who looks normal and unburdened. There’s an easygoing smile at the corners of his mouth, and no lines in between his eyebrows.
“I don’t want covering up anymore,” I blubber. “I don’t want to hide what I’ve done. I don’t want the stigma. I just want to be out in the open and free.”
“Yes, but if you don’t get into the Elementary Ed. Program, you’re going to be paddling up shit’s creek, Sabine. You would have to change schools.”
“That’s fine,” I say, because I’ve made a decision anyway. A rather important one. “I don’t want to teach anymore, Liam. I thought I did, but that’s because all my life, I’ve said I was going to be a teacher when I grew up, but I’ve learned a lot about myself this last month, and I want to change majors.”
His silvery eyes light up. Liam loves hearing about people’s career choices. He loves pairing people up with their intended vocation based on personality. This time, I’ve chosen my own path. And I think he’ll approve. “I want to study psychology. Sex therapy.”
“A sex therapist. Ha…” His eyes turn toward the sky and he nods approvingly. “That makes perfect sense.”
“I want to help people, especially women who have the same problems I’ve had. I think I would really enjoy it. It’ll mean even more because it’s so personal.”
