by Jamie Knight
She was also a huge part of the reason why I didn’t want to sign Belva’s contract. Even though we were keeping our relationship a secret, agreeing in writing not to have her at my place seemed too final. I wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. So, I let the contract sit on my kitchen counter for days while I thought about what she had put in it.
The contract said that no students were to be in my home, vehicle, or alone with me in a classroom without supervision. I felt like she was really reaching, like I was being put on some kind of probation or something.
I didn’t like it.
After spending a few days, thinking about it, I decided to go into Belva’s office and have her change it. Or maybe I could convince her to get rid of the contract altogether. I shaved, put on my best suite, and slapped some expensive cologne on before making my way to the administrative offices, where Belva’s office was. I had already emailed her and let her know that I would be on my way, so I expected her to be waiting for me.
Walking the long walk down the hallway to her office felt like walking to my death. I tried to tell myself that everything would work itself out. But, this was such a delicate situation. And between Belva and Trent, it seemed like I was under surveillance.
When I got to her office, the door was open and she was on the phone. She nodded toward me by way of greeting, putting a finger up, indicating that I should wait until she finished her conversation on the phone. She chatted for a few more minutes, sounding friendly and light. When she hung up the phone, her face turned dark and brooding and her voice sounded so cold.
“You brought the signed contract with you, correct?” she asked, her eyes piercing as they watched me closely over her folded hands. I pulled out the contract and let it fall onto her desk
“It’s not signed,” I said. “But, I do have a few questions.”
Belva blew out an exasperated sigh and looked over at me incredulously.
“What is there to know? Everything was outlined very clearly in the contract. And now that Izzy has disappeared, there are so many other questions that I have to leave unanswered. I really just want to put all of this embarrassing mess behind us. You signing the contract is just an act of good faith, stating that you understand that you need to remain professional and that, in doing so, you get to keep your position here at the school. What is so hard about that?”
Belva looked like she was about to pull her hair out she was so frustrated. I understand her position, as the enforcer of rules. But, I just felt like it was the beginning of the end for me to agree to have the university dictating so much of my life.
But, then again, I DID need to think more about my career. I had spent years building my reputation. Was I really willing to let it all come crashing and burning down because of a few rolls in the hay with Izzy?
And Belva said she disappeared. If that was true, then that means that she really never was invested in our relationship anyway, whatever kind of relationship we had. My heart sank at the thought of not being able to see her anymore. But I also felt twinge of something else: anger.
Here I had put everything on the line for this girl, extended myself in ways that I have never extended myself to other students. I took her into my home, into my bed. I really cared for her, not just physically, but I cared about her education, about her feelings. And given the first chance, she heads for the hills, leaving a bunch of unsigned contracts and stipulations in her wake.
I realized that I was overthinking things. I pulled the contract out of my bag, flipped through the papers until I found the signature line, and signed my name.
I knew that signing the contract was smart. I could keep things cool at my job and settle this issue with Belva so that she could stop sniffing around. Putting this issue to bed kept her from getting any closer to finding out about my indiscretions with Izzy.
I kicked myself for even hesitating the sign it. If Izzy hadn’t thought twice about throwing our relationship into the trash and she had less at stake than I did, what was my deal?
I couldn’t help but feel like signing it was fucking wrong. But what was done was done.
My next order of business, though, was finding a new research assistant. I figured while I was there and had Belva’s attention, I should at least ask her about letting me get some new ones. I definitely wasn’t going to work on another assignment with Trent after all of the trouble that he had tried to cause.
“Hey, Belva, while I’m here, any chance you can sign on of me finding some new research assistants? Things have been pretty backed up here lately and I could use a hand.”
Belva looked up at me, her eyes searching my face. I kept it cool, not giving her any indication that there was a problem. I didn’t want to give Trent the satisfaction of knowing that he had moved anything in my world. I did, though, look forward to being able to tell him that his time with me at the university had come to an end.
As much as I had enjoyed working with him in the past, the recent events let me know what he was capable was. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Sure, no problem,” said Belva, turning her attention to a stack of papers that were teetering on the edge of her desk.
“Thank you,” I said, slipping out of the room quietly.
I headed out of the building back to the main building where my own office was. I pushed the door open and closed the door behind me. I walked over to my desk and pulled out some of the files that had my students’ info in it.
Surely there must have been some promising students who would do well as research assistants. I thumbed through a few files. It didn’t take me long to land on Izzy’s name.
I stared at her name, my hopeful and eager mind wishing that there was some way that I could pull her out of the file like some portal to another world. But I knew that that wouldn’t happen. The file did have her home phone number in it, though.
I had been calling her cell phone since that day we were in Belva’s office, but I hadn’t got an answer. It must have been turned off because it was going straight to voicemail. I pulled out the number and stared at it, holding my phone in my hand nervously.
I knew that calling her house was a huge risk, especially considering how testy things had gotten when we last saw each other, but I had to talk to her, to hear her voice, to find out what had happened.
More than anything, I wanted her to know the truth about how I felt about her and that I wasn’t ready for it to be over. Maybe if she knew that, she would come back.
I dialed the number and let it ring. It rang three times before a gruff, deep voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello, hi. This is Dr. Rivers. Is Izzy available?”
I tried to make my voice sound as professional as possible so not as to raise any alarms.
“I know exactly who this is,” he hissed. “This is Jack Carson, Izzy’s father. Unfortunately, we have had the displeasure of meeting.”
The nasty tone in his voice threw me off a little. I blinked a few times to regain my composure.
“I am so sorry that we had to meet that way,” I said, almost stumbling over my words. “It was never my intention to have that happen. But, as you remember, the situation was cleared up. Is Izzy okay?”
My last question didn’t sound as confident. I felt so fragile, waiting for his reply. I just wanted to know that she was okay.
“She’s fine,” he spat. “But you aren’t going to speak to her. Not if I have anything to say about it. I was really disappointed with the way that things have been handled. And, to be clear, everyone else may have felt like things were swept under the rug, but as her father, I need you to know this: if there ever was any funny business going on, all of that is over with. In fact, you won’t have to worry about seeing Izzy anymore because she will never set foot in that school if I have anything to say about it. She’s done with you and the school. So, please don’t call here anymore.”
The line clicked and fell silent. I hung up the phone sl
owly, feeling an uneasy feeling of depression and irritation.
It was one thing for her father to say those things to him, to stand up to protect his daughter. If she were my daughter, I would probably have done the same thing.
But, for Izzy not to try to talk to me I simply could not understand.
I paused, clapping my hand over my mouth, dropping the phone from my hand, as the realization set in.
I had been falling for Izzy. I was worse than a head-over-heels teenager, risking it all for my heart. I felt silly. And obviously, it was one-sided. It was just about her getting her cherry popped and I was the closest cherry popper. I wonder how many nights she had stayed up with her friend Layla, gossiping about my penis size and whatever silly little things that popped into her childish head.
But that’s what happens when you sleep with someone so young. I thought that her intelligence made her more mature, but I guess I was wrong.
This couldn’t happen again. I had to be more careful now. Not that I had been trying to come on to Izzy. It just kind of happened.
But I vowed to devote myself to my studies and teaching from then on. No more getting distracted by a pretty face.
I turned off my light and sat in the dark, staring into the darkness, trying my hardest to put Izzy as far out of my head as possible.
Chapter 16
Izzy
The ride back home was a long one. My dad took the chance, while he had a captive audience, to rant about how disappointed he was in the university.
“I spend my hard-earned dollars to send my daughter, my jewel, my angel, to their school and they have her in the midst of some potential crime? No! I won’t have that! I’m going to be drafting a strongly-worded e-mail to the president of the board of the university. Heads will roll before I’m done.”
My mother spent the ride trying to calm him down, looking like a cat with its hair on end as she struggled to stay calm herself while he weaved in and out of cars, speeding down the road. There were a few times when I was sure that we wouldn’t make it home because he had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting another car.
Just when I was sure that he was done ranting, he would start right back up with, “And another thing…”
My mother spent the night trying to cheer my dad up and make him forget about the ugly scene that we had left.
“Our baby is home now,” she said. “Let’s make this a happy time and get things back to normal.”
He loudly insisted that things would never get back to normal. I drifted off to sleep that night, exhausted, not able to keep my eyes open another second, with thoughts that maybe my father was right.
The next morning, my mother was waking me up to a pancake breakfast in bed. She said that she had a surprise for me and told me to eat quickly and get dressed. When I got downstairs, my mother stood in the living room with a stringed quartet playing.
Hearing the noise, my father flew into the room, his eyes almost popping out his head. I laughed at my mother doting over the quartet while my father ruined it, talking loudly and complaining about them scratching up the hardwood floors.
But, once they left, my father settled in to watch football as if nothing ever happened and my mother asked me if I wanted to go shopping with her.
I was happy to get some fresh air, so I went.
It turned out that being at my parents’ house was exactly what I needed. My mother was happy to dote over me and my father had this look of satisfaction on his face, nodding and grunting whenever he caught a glimpse of me. It gave me some sense of comfort even though everything else in my world was so uncertain.
I took most of my meals in bed since eating anything made me feel sick right away. I thought that it was smart to try hiding the fact that I was pregnant for as long as I could.
But my coming home had happened too fast since, in the shuffle of leaving, I discovered that I had left my phone behind in my dorm room. I had Layla go and confirm that it was there and that I hadn’t left it somewhere else. I told her to put it in my top drawer and that I would get it when I got back to school.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, sounding sincerely worried. “There are rumors going around school that you aren’t coming back.”
I was a little surprised that my name had hit any type of rumor mill. But, that would just be one more thing to add to the list of things that I would need to face once I came back.
“I’m just trying to clear my head for now,” I told her honestly.
She told me that she understood and wished me luck. Had I been thinking, I would have asked her to send me Jace’s number that had been programmed into my phone. I didn’t know it by heart and I really wanted to talk to him, just to see what he was thinking.
I missed him and wanted to hear his voice. And I didn’t want him to catch wind of the rumors and think that I had no plans of talking to him about things.
I almost felt tempted to call the university. In fact, I picked up the phone a few times to do just that, but stopped myself once I realized that that was not a good idea.
I kept flashing back to that day in Belva’s office and the interrogation that happened off of an allegation. If I started calling the school, that would only add fuel to the fire.
I didn’t want to make things harder for Jace than they already were. I cared about him and wanted to see him happy, doing what he loved, in the place that he had dreamed of doing it. I didn’t want my own selfishness in wanting to talk to him to ruin the legacy that he has built as a teacher.
He was an amazing teacher and a great man already. I would never forgive myself if his reputation became that he chased after students all because of me.
But days could turn into weeks and just keep moving on and I wouldn’t have a concrete plan. Without talking to Jace, though, there was no real way that I could move forward. I knew that it was ultimately my decision, but I felt like I didn’t want to take away his half of the decision, though.
I sat up, staring around at my old room, a room that seemed so foreign to me now. It was the room where I had been in when I dreamed of losing my virginity. I was sure that it would have been a hot guy from school, someone my own age. Never did I imagine that it would have been with my professor.
Jace’s face popped into my head. His dark, brooding eyes and penetrating gaze breathed life into me. The way that he looked at me made me know that he was paying close attention, taking me in. I could still see him hovering over me, staring down at me, while plowing my pussy. Without thinking about it, my hand moved down to my crotch, kneading my pussy over my panties.
“Knock, knock,” came my mother’s voice, with her pushing her way through the door without waiting for my response. I almost fell out of bed I was so startled.
“Mom!” I called, frowning in irritation.
“Op! I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, laughing. “I guess old habits really do die hard, huh? Well, I just wanted to know that I have a surprise for you, so if you hurry and get dressed, I’ll be in the kitchen waiting for you. With the surprise.”
She sang her words and did a silly dance. I shook my head and laughed at her, wondering what my mother could have been up to now.
My mother had always had an infectious personality. There was truly never a dull moment.
Too bad my life was far too much in shambles for me to appreciate being awakened and having to face another day without knowing what I was going to do about Jace or the baby.
I flopped around in bed, frustrated, before getting up, composing myself, and walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. I could already hear my mother humming and clanging away at something. When she saw me, her round face perked up and she beamed.
“Good morning, Izzy Wizzy!” she sang, putting a tray into the oven and closing it with her hip. “I am making your favorites today: peanut butter cookies.”
My mother made the absolute best cookies. I got a little excited. This day was already looking promising.
“Thanks, mo
m. That’s really sweet of you.”
“Anything for my baby girl,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. I tried to ignore her look, but I knew that her radar was up.
She had caught me coming out of the bathroom yesterday after having a bout of morning sickness. I almost ran right into her as I came out of the bathroom.
“Whoa!” she said, steadying me with her arms. “Are you okay? Your face is all flushed.”
She scanned my face worriedly. I pulled away quickly, trying to hide my face.
“Yeah, I think that it was something I ate,” I said, patting my stomach.
My mother put a hand over her chest and gasped, offended at the thought that anything that she would have cooked for me would have made me sick.
“I’ll get you some ginger ale,” she said, speeding toward the kitchen.
“No, that okay,” I said, calling after her. “I’m okay now.”
She paused, looking back at me, a questioning look on her face. She stared at me for a few minutes while I did my best to muster what I thought was a convincing smile. She nodded unconvinced, but didn’t say anything else about it. I caught her looking at me a few times that day, but she would quickly look away when I locked eyes with her. It was starting to make me feel a little uneasy.
Standing there in the kitchen with her, seeing her looking at me like she was trying to put together a puzzle, was making me feel nervous. I shifted uncomfortably and found a seat at the kitchen table. My mother poured me a cup of tea and sat down at the table across from me.
“How are you feeling?” she asked me, her voice velvety and comforting.
I stared into my cup of tea, knowing that if I looked at her, my eyes would give me away.
“I have to admit that I’m a little stressed,” I said. I knew that I had to tell her something.
“I understand,” she said. “I just hope that you know that, no matter what’s going on with you, you can always tell us, honey. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said quietly, nodding.
