Page 49 of Forbidden Lessons

A whimper, a whine.

Then they realize it’s not a game anymore, and the cruel reality crushes them.

I’m an expert in cause and effect.

I know someone’s been playing rough with Miss Lee. It’s gone past the point where she can deny it, even to herself, and yet she so desperately tries.

Who is she protecting?

I understood the act of inflicting cruelty on someone else before I studied it academically. My interest in that concept plateaued years ago.

But for someone to readily accept that cruelty?

That still fascinates me.

Is that why I can’t get Miss Lee out of my fucking mind?

Is that why, after class ends, I call her to me? Why I suppress a smile as she hurries over?

Wide eyed, nervous, shy, curious. A flurry of emotion, openly broadcast for anyone to see. What it must be like inside her mind as she tries to navigate this new world.

Does her pulse flutter whenever she’s uneasy or unsure?

Is it doing it now?

“When is your next class?”

“Uh…I have Urban Studies at two.”

I nod and let the silence grow until she has no choice but to fill it with words. “I was going to study for a while. Work on some assignments.”

“Good. Then I’ll walk you to the library.”

A flash of surprise lifts her eyebrows before she tries to look cool and detached. “I wasn’t going to the library.”

“Then where?”

Her lips move like she’s trying to hold back the truth, but that’s the funny thing about authority. It can be…persuasive.

“Just…in my car.”

“Even better. I was just headed to mine.” I head for the door, but she doesn’t follow. When I turn back she’s watching me with a blank face, a touch of unease in her eyes. Like a deer that’s caught a hint of a predator’s scent in the air.

I walk back, scratching at my temple. “Is this the part where you tell me you can look after yourself?”

I make a point of looking at the bruise on her jaw.

It’s much fainter than I make it out to be. But I’m keenly observant, and I’ve known something’s wrong with Miss Lee for a while now. Always putting on a brave face for her peers, but I notice the tiny moments of desperate panic that makes her eyelashes tremble, her lips tighten, her hands tighten into fists.

How she tries to keep track of everyone in the room all at once, all the time.

How she wipes at her face again. Charming, how she thinks it’s that easy to eradicate cruelty.

Imagine a world where everyone’s bruises could just be wiped away?

She hesitates, even glances away as if she’s trying to find an alternative. But she must realize there’s safety in being at my side. That the presence of a faculty member provides some respite from the monster tracking her through the ever-darkening forest she’s gotten herself lost in.

Miss Lee dips her head and falls in line behind me as I go to collect my satchel from the desk. Ezra Jordan’s brother, Kai, watches us approach with a lopsided smile.

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