Study Me: A Student Teacher Romance

by Logan Chance

  We walk the streets of New York, shopping, laughing, and eating. I’ve missed my sister. We grab a hot dog from the stand, and Lexi makes jokes of its phallic resemblance.

  “Want to see a show on Broadway or something fancy bitches do?” Lexi asks.

  I laugh. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go walk around Central Park.”

  Later in the evening, when Lexi is passed out from walking around the city and overstuffing her face with hot dogs, I glance to Houston’s apartment across the alley. No lights. No life. The window is etched in my mind as my last memory of him.

  22

  Houston

  April 29th

  Maybe I don’t need to forget, maybe I need to remember. And, that’s what I strive to do.

  Leaving Marley was hard.

  Watching the teardrops race down the window of the path train as I head to my parent’s house in Princeton, I press my head against the glass closing my eyes to think about my life.

  My so-called life. The life I stopped living once Nathan was taken from us.

  I’d like to say Jennifer handled his death better than me, but she traveled along this same dark road of despair.

  I wished for death. After Nathan died, I begged for it.

  They say when you die that your life flashes before your eyes. But, what if all of this is the quick flash and I’m already dying?

  And if it is, then this is the slowest crawl toward death.

  As the train pulls into the Princeton stop, I take a deep breath.

  I called my sister to pick me up, and as I walk out of the station she waits, resting against her silver Mercedes.

  “Hey, Katy, what’s up?” I say, striding over to her.

  “I should be asking you that big brother. You don’t look so hot.” She smiles, her brown eyes sparkling. Her arms wrap around me.

  “I’m actually doing better than I have in a really long time.”

  She gives me another squeeze before releasing me.

  We drive down US-1 to the home I grew up in. We don’t speak. There’s no need. She understands me more than most. A comfortable silence, and everything is spoken between us.

  She knows I’m trying.

  Damn, I want to live a normal life where I don’t think about Nathan every second of every day. I miss everything about him. And, I’ll never forget him. Yet, sometimes, I need a break from the memory of him.

  She parks the car in the long, cobblestone driveway. Glancing to the colonial-style home in front of me, I wipe my palms on my jeans.

  It’s now or never.

  Katy opens the door, and my parent’s stand near the entrance. The smell of hydrangeas tickle my nose. The foyer is filled with fading flowers in memory of yesterday. The anniversary of Nathan’s death. They lost him too, and sometimes I’m so buried by my own suffering, I forget theirs.

  My father steps forward, and I whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re forgiven, son.” He wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me closer to him.

  For two years, anytime anyone mentioned my son, I would snap. Pushing my family away became my specialty.

  Once my father and I were closer than ever; we had a relationship I always wanted to have with Nathan. My father’s forgiveness means everything, and as he holds me tight against his chest, I weep.

  My father weeps too, and next to me, mom and sister cry as well. I lift my head and spread my arms to encase them in the hug.

  A good family cry. And, it’s exactly what we need.

  After a while, my mother herds us into the kitchen. She makes dinner while playing soft music on the radio.

  “Houston, will Jennifer be there?” my father asks, his eyes holding concern.

  “I hope so.” And for the first time since Jennifer and I divorced, I want to see her.

  We eat dinner, and it feels like old times.

  After, my father pulls me aside.

  “He’ll always be your son. You don’t need to forget him. There is no right way to grieve. And, I’m proud of you, son. You’ve been through more than I could ever handle.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say, hugging him again.

  “Nathan adored you. You were his shining star, but your light dimmed. I don’t think he’d want that for you.”

  “Yeah.” I rub my hand along the back of my neck.

  “You need to find your light again.”

  “I want that too,” I tell him.

  I stay the night at my parent’s house, and the next morning Katy takes me to the Newark Airport.

  Boarding the plane to O’Hare, my chest burns with anticipation. Jennifer and I made a pact to visit Nathan’s grave every year on his birthday. Last year I never showed up.

  When I make it to Chicago, spring is in the air, but you can’t tell by the chill in my bones. Leaves crumple under the harsh pounding of my footsteps, each one bringing me closer and closer to my destination.

  With my hand, I push the wrought iron gate and step through the grass. The cloudy sky sheds its sadness over me as I wander the cemetery on this gloomy afternoon. My hands are deep within the pockets of my leather jacket as I head toward his grave.

  Melancholy entrenches me. It consumes me because it knows it owns me.

  I glance around, looking for the marble headstone I know is just a few feet away. When I see it, I drop to my knees.

  It’s as if this cemetery knows me. Watches me cry. I glance to the headstone, the one with Nathan’s legacy.

  A tear falls, I swipe it away as I say a quiet prayer. The reverence makes my breath catch. The serenity makes my eyes water. A light mist falls from the sky, threatening to open up into a downpour, but it doesn’t phase me.

  “Happy Birthday, buddy.” A tear drops. “Nathan, I love you. I miss you every day. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” I crumble, my breath coming out in pants.

  It never gets any easier. As time goes by the memory never fades. Maybe it never will.

  “Hi,” I hear her voice say. She steps next to where I sit, and places a Hot Wheels toy car on his headstone.

  “Hey, Jen.”

  She kneels beside me, her familiar perfume wafting through the air. It brings back all the memories of what I once had.

  “How are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up.” It’s awkward between us, and I’m sure she feels it too.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. It was just too hard last year. Things are getting better, though.” I run my hand over his headstone, still unable to look at her.

  “That’s good. Houston, I’m getting married.” Her words don’t shock me.

  I turn to face her, laying my eyes on her for the first time in a long time. Her hair has grown longer, and she appears happier. Her eyes still hold a deep sadness which mirrors mine. One that I don’t think will ever fade.

  “Is he a good guy?”

  “Yes. His name’s Stuart. He’s helped me a lot.”

  I smile. “That’s good.” I take a deep breath. “I should have taken him.”

  “What?”

  “That morning, I should have driven Nathan to school myself.” My shoulders slump as I gaze back to his tombstone.

  Jennifer grabs my arm, directing my attention back on her. “No, you can’t do that. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “It’s my fault.” Another tear falls.

  “It’s no one’s fault. For a long time, I blamed myself. I blamed everyone. He was my baby boy, Houston. And there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t miss him.” She sobs into her hands, and then lifts her tear-stained cheeks. “I was his mommy.”

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. “It sucks.”

  She pulls out of my embrace and wipes her nose. “It really does,” she pauses a moment before continuing, “I called you because I have some things of Nathan’s I found and thought you might want.”

  “Ok.”

  We sit in silence a while longer, letting the afternoon clouds roll by as we both silently pray to our little boy.


  As we walk back toward the parking lot, a red-haired man with a beard rests against a silver sedan.

  He smiles when he sees Jennifer, and she rushes into his waiting arms. A cool breeze sweeps in as they both direct their attention on me.

  “You must be Houston,” the man says. “I’m Stuart.” His smile is warm, friendly. He extends his hand as his eyes meet mine. He passes the handshake test. A solid hand shake while staring the person in the eyes is very admirable.

  “Hey, nice meeting you.” I shake his hand.

  Jennifer whispers to him to pop the trunk of the car. The way they gaze into each other’s eyes is heartfelt. It makes me want it. Want that happiness. I want it with Marley. I want to experience life with her. To remember what it’s like to be free from guilt and pain. My therapist said one day, when I’m ready, I would move on. It would be a slow process, but I would want to discover life again. I think I’m there.

  Stuart kisses her cheek before reaching inside the car to release the trunk.

  She calls me over and pulls out a box, placing it in my arms. I glance inside and tears well up.

  We say our goodbyes against a vibrant orange and pink sunset in the distance. A soft breeze follows me as I slide into the cab to head back to the hotel. I hold the box tight, waiting until I get there to see all the treasures hidden within.

  As I step through the doors, I place the box on the bed and pull out the baseball glove first. So, small. Memories of little league practices and me coaching him through his first game wash over me.

  I grab his baseball cap out of the box next, a tiny red hat, and I cling it to my chest. I miss him, so much. So damn much. I drop to the bed, my shoulders slumping as I pull the box closer.

  Noticing a blue piece of construction paper at the bottom of the box, my fingers grip the edge and I hold it up. It’s a letter from Nathan, something I never saw before. I read it. I laugh, then cry. Scribbled on the paper in black and purple crayons is the sentence: My daddy is the best dad in the whole world. My daddy loves me and I love him.

  My son knew I loved him. I clutch the note tighter to my chest and smile.

  23

  Marley

  Resuscitate-verb-to make something active or vigorous again.

  Another week goes by and then another, and the idea of ever seeing Houston again fades with each passing moment.

  After Lexi left, I threw myself into my coursework, stopping only to sleep. But, sleep isn’t an easy task when you miss someone.

  On my way to class one mundane morning, I take my normal route via the subway. The mindless chatter and hustle and bustle of travelers blocks out my thoughts. The walk to campus is the same as every day, robotic.

  When I reach the door to the Anatomy building, my breath catches. He’s back.

  My heart cracks when he steps closer, and I see his eyes. A twinkle of hope lies in the depths of his dark orbs. His hands hide in his pockets, and a small smile paints his face. I want to run my fingers through his hair which has grown a few inches in the past weeks.

  “Houston,” I breathe.

  “Hello, Marley. I know you need to get to class.” He has an air of vulnerability about him, as if he’s out of his element. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

  I have so many questions for him. But I don’t ask. Instead I listen.

  “Go ahead.” My ears prepare for whatever it is he could possibly want from me.

  He shuffles on his feet, his hand reaching around to rub at the back of his neck. “I know I have no right to ask, and I know I always said I never wanted dates. But, will you come over tonight? I have something important I want to show you.”

  My response is immediate, “Of course I will.” I want to hug him. To kiss him. But, he walks away.

  Later in the evening, with my nerves on high alert, I venture to his apartment. I dress in a little black dress, with my red heels and silver hoop earrings. The gloss on my lips is smooth when I press my lips together out of nervousness.

  He lets me in, and a smile is plastered on his face. He looks happier, lighter. It stays in place as I enter into his well-lit apartment.

  It’s so different than any other time I’ve been here. I glance around and see photos of Nathan lining his fireplace mantle.

  I step over, running my fingers along the silver frame. “This is a great picture,” I say, admiring the photo of Nathan on a horse.

  “He was three, he was so scared to get on that horse. I remember holding him close, telling him everything would be ok.” He gets a bit teary-eyed, but holds his composure together. I’m proud of him for not shutting down.

  I step over to another photo and see two more on a shelf near his kitchen. “These are great, Houston.”

  “I want to remember everything. Every single detail of every day of his short life.”

  I hug him. I hug him with everything I have. He fills me in on where he’s been the last few weeks, and I’m glad he and Jennifer are coming back to life.

  “I think it’s great,” I say, a small smile playing at my lips. “You look happier.”

  “Marley, I haven’t been happy for a long time.” He steps closer. “But, I want to be. I’m trying.” He reaches for me and leans in, dropping his forehead to mine. “I want to try to be happy with you.”

  My lips meet his in a passionate kiss, tongues twirling together. I lean back. “I want that too.”

  He cocks a brow, smiling a boyish grin. “Besides, someone needs to make sure you stay in line.”

  I smile, sheepishly. “Oh, is that right? And what happens if I don’t?”

  “Spankings. Lots and lots of spankings.” He pulls me closer to his strong chest.

  “Marley, one thing I’ve learned is life is short. I want to make the best out of every day, and I want you to be there with me.”

  He doesn’t have to ask me twice.

  Epilogue

  Houston

  To say the past year has been easy with Marley would be a lie. But, I strive every day to be strong for her, for me.

  I returned to medicine, my one true calling. Working at the Langone Medical Center in New York has been a dream come true.

  Some days are still hard. Some days I want to curl in a ball and never wake up, but Marley is always there helping me to be better.

  She’s a natural in her studies and works hard day in and day out to succeed.

  Her beauty, her strength, and her heart are a few of the things I admire most about her. Who knew she’d be the one to heal my soul. Who knew my soul was even worth saving?

  I love her.

  It was an easy decision to be with her. One I had no problem admitting when I finally came around.

  My therapist has noticed a significant improvement in my life, and now I only see her every other month. I still write in my journal daily.

  And there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t celebrate the life of my son, Nathan.

  We pull up to the cemetery, and I grab Marley’s hand. With a deep breath, we push past the iron gates and head toward Nathan’s plot.

  Jennifer and Stuart sit side-by-side at his grave. A line of Hot Wheel toy cars sit atop his headstone.

  We say our hellos, and I introduce Marley to them. We kneel in the plush grass and, I notice Jennifer’s belly.

  “How far along are you?” I ask.

  “Seven months. It’s scary,” Jennifer says with a smile on her face, rubbing her hand over her protruding belly.

  Stuart places his arm on her back, running his fingers up and down, and Marley squeezes my hand.

  “I think it’s great.” I drop Marley’s hand and lean in to hug Jennifer as a fresh tear escapes me.

  The sun hangs high in the sky as the leaves on the nearby trees rustle in the wind. Such a serene place for my son to rest until we can all meet again.

  A while later, after Jennifer and Stuart have left, Marley hugs me and says she’ll wait for me by the rental car.

  A moment alone with my son, and I pull
out the note he wrote me before he died. I clutch it in my hands as I gaze at his grave.

  “Happy birthday, buddy. I miss you so much.” I walk away knowing that I was an idiot for ever trying to forget him. No, his memory will never fade.

  As I see Marley leaning against the car, my heart beats faster. I wrap her in a hug, and kiss the top of her head. “Thank you for coming into my life when I needed you the most.”

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading Study Me. This book was a challenge for me to write, but I enjoyed it and hope you did as well.

  One message I want to stress with this book is to hug the ones you hold dear every day. Love the people you do every day, and don’t ever let an opportunity to let them know how you feel pass you by.

  I have many people to thank for helping with this book.

  First, Paula Dawn, thank you so much for all your help and guidance in bringing this story to life. Your tireless efforts are much appreciated, and you deserve all the praise in the world for this book.

  Obi Wan, thank you for all your help in creating a perfect backdrop to bring these characters to a new dimension.

  To my personal assistant, Donna Marie, thank you for keeping me on track and put together. You’re a pleasure to work with and I have loved every moment. I appreciate all you do to help spread the word of my works.

  To Jessica Green, thank you for just being you. You’re a great friend and I appreciate your madness AND your words of wisdom. Thank you.

  To my fabulous street team, you ladies are amazing. I appreciate all your hard work and efforts.

  To Judi Perkins with Concierge Literary Designs for your friendship and your help on a great cover for the Sex Me Novellas.

  To everyone who picked up this book and loved it please leave a review. Thank you so much.

  I have quite a few places you can stalk me at:

  FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM

  You can also come hang out with me in my reader’s group: Logan Chance’s Dark Side

  OTHER BOOKS BY LOGAN CHANCE

  LIKE A BOSS | LOVE A BOSS | DATE ME

  BOOKS COMING SOON

  SAVE ME | BREAK ME

  Also, check out Behind the Making of Study Me releasing March 20th. Deleted scenes, behind the characters and bonus scenes. ALSO, included will be the first chapter of Save Me.