Breaking Noah

by Missy Johnson

  “Noah. I know you’re there. Your car’s in the parking lot. Open the door, please,” she calls from the other side of the door, not willing to give it up and go away.

  “Give me a minute.” Sluggishly, I walk into the living room and take a seat across from the dean, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s Zara.”

  “Dammit, Noah. If I’m going to have any shot of killing the stories that come out of this, having the student you had an affair with at your apartment isn’t going to help. Get rid of her.” And I want to, but I also want an explanation. I want to know why she thought it was a fantastic idea to ruin my career. Especially when I thought we were building a relationship—something real.

  Leaning over the arm of the couch closest to the door, I don’t even give her the courtesy of telling her this face-to-face. “Go away, Zara. We have nothing to talk about.”

  “Please. It’s important. You have to let me in. Noah, something really bad happened.” It most certainly did. You took something private and intimate and shared it with everyone without any concern for me.

  “Go away, Zara.”

  “Please!” she screams, her fists pounding against the wood.

  Flying to the door, I fling it open so hard it cracks against the drywall, leaving a hole where the handle is. I glare down at Zara, with her mascara-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. “What, Zara? Are you here to tell me why you ruined me? Why it’s barely eight-thirty and my boss is sitting in my living room trying to figure a way out of this shit show? I’m waiting, Zara. Start talking.” I wave my arm, inviting her inside. If I have to deal with the aftermath of her juvenile decision, she does, too.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, when she sees Dean Calloway scowling in her direction. “I had no idea.”

  “Exactly what are you having problems understanding, Ms. Hamilton?” Dean Calloway seethes. “You made a real mess here, young lady. You shouldn’t be here. Mr. Bain’s in enough trouble without you here to muddy the already dirty water. You should leave.”

  More tears fill Zara’s eyes, and yesterday—shit, an hour ago—I would have tried my best to comfort her, make sure she was okay. Now her mental state is the last thing I’m concerned with. I have to save my own ass. “She’s right, Ms. Hamilton,” I say, turning away from Zara and taking my seat on the couch again. “I’m not sure what your plan was, but you’ve accomplished whatever it was that you wanted. Now, I’m sure that you know the way out.”

  Zara’s shoulders slump and she inhales a few deep breaths before turning on her heels, walking out of the door and, I hope, my life. Once the door closes behind her, I turn my attention back to my boss, praying she has a solution to this mess.

  “What are you thinking, Karen?” I ask.

  “The board’s willing to settle for unpaid administrative leave until this blows over. At that time, they’ll examine all the evidence and determine if you’re going to be allowed back to Northwestern. I won’t lie to you, Noah. It’s not looking so good right now. You might want to think of another career option.”

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do? She’s an adult. I know it’s a violation of my morality clause—an ethics violation—but seriously, I didn’t break the law. I’ll do anything, Karen. Anything.”

  “Just start with having no contact with the student, or any others, for that matter. The last thing we’ll need in the middle of this scandal is you having contact with anyone else who can bring a claim against you. I hate to ask you this, but it’s my job. Are there any other affairs we should know about? They’re going to come out if there are.”

  “No. Nothing. Zara’s the only person I’ve been involved with since college. After breaking it off with Shannon, it’s only been Zara.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. As terrible as this situation is, we might be able to use that in your defense if the situation arises. The fact that you’re not a habitual offender should work out in your favor. But I’m serious, Noah, no contact. With her. With other students, male or female. Right now you need to stay under the radar.” I nod, taking everything in and vowing to come out the other side of this. Teaching is what I love, and I won’t let a stupid, irresponsible affair come between me and what I care most about.

  Dean Calloway leaves and I spend the rest of the morning avoiding anything to do with this situation. Refusing to go on any social media sites or watch the news, I’m stuck with whatever reruns are on and I try to focus on anything but what Zara’s done. After about an hour, I walk back to my bedroom, needing a shower and possibly a nap. On the floor, the notification light on my phone flashes, catching my attention.

  Picking it up, I realize that I didn’t actually break the damn thing, just shattered the screen. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because I’ll still have communication with the outside world. Bad because the first thing I see is a text message from Zara, begging for me to call her once the dean leaves.

  Me: Enough. Do not contact me anymore.

  I really want to know why she did it, but at this point her reasoning doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is that she tried to take me down in whatever she had planned. I’ll never know why. I’m not even sure it matters at this point.

  Zara: It wasn’t me. Please. Talk to me.

  Lies. Fucking lies. “It wasn’t me.” Does she think I’m a moron? Of course it was her. Nobody else could have recorded that specific encounter. Had it been one that took place in my office, I’d be a little more lenient about speaking with her, but it was at my home. Adding to that, the video was emailed from her student account.

  Sitting back, it all starts to piece together. Zara’s been far too interested in me since day one. I was so blinded by her I never saw it coming. I let this happen. I put myself in a situation to be played, and hell, did she play me. I fell right into whatever trap she laid. Whatever I did to her to invite such behavior, I’d really like to know, because it’s got to be huge for Zara to have gone to such lengths to destroy the life of someone she’s just met.

  Instead of sending a response to her latest message, I power down my phone. I refuse to have any contact with someone who’s hell-bent on ruining me and doesn’t even have the gall to own up to her decision.

  This is exactly what I get for messing with a little girl. I think it’s safe to say that my lesson’s been learned.

  Chapter 25

  Zara

  “Fuck,” I cry, hurling my phone across the room. The sound of it hitting the wall and shattering rips through me as I fall to my knees.

  I’ve never felt so alone. My whole fucking life is a mess. How could I have gotten things so wrong?

  It’s been two days since the email went out and he won’t fucking speak to me. All my texts and calls have gone ignored and I’m at the breaking point because I don’t know how to fix this.

  Getting to my feet, I walk over to the window and nudge back the curtain with my finger. They’re still there. Fucking reporters. With the world in crisis over various wars and disease outbreaks, how is this news?

  I need to get out of here. Dillon’s been staying at the frat house, keeping his nose out of the news. I’m sure with his father’s connections it wouldn’t have been an issue to put a halt to the story, but future congressmen shouldn’t have children splashed across the front pages of a sex scandal at the university. I’d never been so thankful for his pompous-ass parents.

  I stalk into the bedroom and stuff a few things into my bag, then sneak out the sliding glass door. I parked my car three streets away to avoid facing the press last night, and it paid off. I throw my bag onto the passenger seat and slam my door closed, revving the car to life.

  “Where am I going to go?” I mutter. Home is out of the question. My parents are furious with me. I hadn’t even considered that my uncle was an alumnus of Northwestern. I cringe at the thought of my family seeing that video. How could I have ever thought this was a good idea?

  “Zara?”

  Mel frowns at me from behind her
front door. The once friendly redhead is now suspicious and reserved—not that I can blame her. She’s probably wondering how much of our friendship was total bullshit.

  “I didn’t have anyone else to turn to,” I mumble. I want to laugh. She barely knows me. Two coffees and a dinner and suddenly she’s my only ally? It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I’m a fucking messed-up loser who has spent the past year obsessed with ruining the wrong fucking man.

  “Come in,” she finally says with a sigh, standing aside. I follow her into the living room and sit down, pulling my knees up to my chest. “What happened?” she asks.

  “You saw the video?” I ask.

  “Everyone saw it, Zara. I don’t understand why. Did he do something to you? Because if that was just to fuck up his life, then that was really low. I can’t even imagine showing the whole world something like that. But then again, I don’t exactly look like you.” She blushes and drops her gaze.

  My heart pounds as shots from the video flash through my head. I’m so embarrassed. The idea had been to Photoshop some of the more graphic scenes, because believe it or not, I do have some dignity.

  “I didn’t…It wasn’t me who sent the email,” I say quietly.

  “Did you videotape yourself with him? Edit the video to make it look like that?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

  I nod. “He won’t let me explain things.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude, Zara, but can you blame the guy?”

  No. No, I can’t.

  “You know about my cousin, right?”

  Confusion clouds over Mel’s face. “What does she have to do with Mr. Bain?”

  “She told me before she killed herself that he had gotten her pregnant. She said she’d had an affair with a professor, and after talking to your sister, I learned she told me the last part to keep me from knowing she was sleeping with my boyfriend, but I didn’t know that until it was too late.” I take a deep breath and force myself to continue. “I thought it was Noah and I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to feel helpless like she did. It worked, but I got the wrong guy.”

  “Holy shit,” she mumbles, her eyes widening. “So you think your cousin killed herself because she was sleeping with your boyfriend?” I nod. “And you thought it was Mr. Bain. You were trying to punish him….”

  “Right. Heather’s the one who told me everything. It was Dillon. I went home and he’d found the video and sent it out,” I whispered. “Now Noah won’t talk to me. I’ve ruined his life for no fucking reason and he won’t let me apologize.”

  “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. Where is Dillon now?”

  “Frat house, I assume. He hasn’t been back in a couple days. But with all the reporters at home I couldn’t stay there. And I broke my phone.” My voice cracks as tears roll down my cheeks. I laugh. With everything that’s happened in the last few days, it’s my fucked cell that has me in tears.

  “I’ve got a spare phone you can use. It’ll be okay, Zara. Let him calm down and then he’ll talk to you.” She hesitates. “Are you upset because you hurt him, or is there more to it?” she asks, her voice gentle.

  There’s always more to it. My sobs are the only answer she needs. She stands up and crouches in front of me, wrapping her arms around me.

  “Poor girl, you’ll be okay. Things feel fucked now, but this will all die down, okay?”

  “He’ll never forgive me.”

  I sit cross-legged on the bed in the spare room at Mel’s apartment. I’m sure she’s letting me stay only because she feels sorry for me, but I’ll take it. It’s not like I have anywhere else to turn right now.

  Logging in to my personal email account, I begin writing to Ryan. I pour out the whole sorry story. I tell him everything, including how angry I am at him for being so far away. He’s the only person I know who won’t judge me.

  I press send and sigh. Just getting all that out makes me feel a little bit better. Even though I know what I’m about to do is a bad, bad idea, I can’t stop myself. I click Google and type my name and Northwestern into the search engine.

  Hits fill the screen. I click on the first one and see the video, followed with more than two hundred comments. Even though I know I’m not going to like it, I scroll down and read them.

  Stupid fucking whore, but nice pussy…

  I’d eat that…

  I knew there was a reason I should’ve become a teacher…

  I bet that cunt’s seen a lot of dick…

  My stomach churns. The video has gone fucking viral. It’s everywhere. Slamming the laptop shut, I curl up on my side and wipe my eyes. I pick up the phone Mel gave me and stare at the screen. I so badly want to call him, but what’s the point? He won’t answer. I have to think of another way to get his attention.

  How the hell am I going to make him listen to me?

  —

  Mel is gone the next morning when I get up. I make myself a coffee and lie down on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself.

  I open my laptop and click on my email, crossing my toes and fingers that Ryan has emailed me. My body tenses when I see his name. Noah. He emailed me. My hands shake as I click on the email. I was not expecting this. What does he want?

  You want to talk, so let’s talk. Meet me at the Walker tonight at six. I can’t wait to hear this. Maybe leave your phone at home so I know you’re not recording it.

  I’m officially in panic mode. What am I going to say? Sorry, I did set out to ruin you, but then I fell in love with you? This cannot possibly end any other way than him hating me. Even if I explain everything, the fact is I planned to bring him down. He would have to be fucking crazy to be able to move past that.

  It takes me a few seconds to realize that Ryan has also replied.

  I’m guessing what you don’t want me to say is that I’ve seen the video? Sorry, sis…I saw way more of you than I ever wanted to see. I’ll need years of therapy to get that image out of my head, but on the plus side, you’re pretty popular around camp ;)

  In a weird, fucked-up way I know your heart was in the right place, and I really think this guy will understand that if he feels the same way about you. Sure, you ruined his career, but didn’t he technically do that himself by messing around with you, too?

  Let the dude cool down, then talk to him. Make him listen. If there’s one thing you excel at, it’s not letting up until someone has heard your side. That’s why I love you so much. You never give up.

  Losing Karly messed you up big-time, Zars. Honestly, I think what all this shows is you still haven’t gotten over that, and maybe you feel a little responsible for not being able to help her? Then to find out about her and Dillon…I don’t know how you’re functioning at all right now.

  Anyway, keep me posted.

  Love you

  I grab the phone and text Noah: See you at six. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain. Z

  Talking to Ryan has really put things into perspective. I feel better than I have since this whole mess started. Ryan is right. If there’s one thing I do well, it’s get my point across.

  I will make him listen to me, because losing him is not an option.

  Chapter 26

  Noah

  Against the advice of my attorneys, the school board, and my own conscience, I agree to meet Zara. I shouldn’t. She doesn’t deserve one more second of my life, but I have to know what I did that was so terrible she felt the need to destroy my career and reputation.

  For the last few days, I’ve dodged an obscene amount of interviews and even more phone calls from other faculty members, my family, and, believe it or not, Shannon. I’ve tried to stay away from the Internet, but it’s like a train wreck: so terrible and tragic, yet you can’t look away. I needed to see. And I saw, all right.

  “I knew something was going on with Noah and his student from the moment I saw them together. I started mentoring her when she approached the fashion and design department at Northwestern. At the time I had no idea she was a stud
ent of my ex-boyfriend’s, but whenever the two of them were together, the secret glances and sly smiles were hard to miss. Had I not been blinded by love, I would have reported the improper conduct. I send my deepest apologies to the student in question as well as her family. Maybe if I would have opened my biased eyes, I would have been able to save her from this travesty.”

  Yeah, that was Shannon’s interview she gave to CNN yesterday. So much for ending on good terms, right? Oh, well, she’s not the only one who commented on the relationship between Zara and myself. One of my worst students, the one who refuses to hand in any assignment yet aces all the tests and passes by only a fraction, had the nerve to tell the local newspaper that I favored Zara. She received special treatment in exchange for sexual favors.

  The whole damn thing makes me sick to my stomach. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve spent building my credibility—one stupid email ruined everything I’d worked for.

  Zara had responded: See you at six. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain. Z

  This should be good. I told her to meet me at the Walker, but I don’t plan on staying there. At this point in time, I think it’s clear to say that Zara Hamilton cannot be trusted…for any reason. The girl’s a walking contradiction.

  Just after five, I dress in dark clothes so I’m not noticed leaving the apartment with all the reporters still camped out front. Sneaking out the back door, I set off on foot, making it a few blocks before I reach Derrick’s house. Luckily, I have friends who are still on my side and are trying to help any way they can.

  “Thanks again for this, man. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Don’t mention it, bro. I saw the video. I’d nail her, too,” he jokes, handing me the keys to his car to borrow. Rolling my eyes, I shut the driver’s door and head out into the early evening. I pull up in front of the Walker, looking around for Zara, and then I see her. Still, regardless of what she’s put me through…is putting me through…I can’t see past the feelings I’ve started to develop for her. Even dressed down, she’s gorgeous.