Page 20 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
“I don’t expect you to.”
I snapped my gaze back to his, prepared to defend what I perceived as an attack on my maturity, which I’d been doubting myself.
“And not because you’re too young to. I haven’t equipped you with all the details to gain the full picture.”
“Will you?”
His lips thinned, but not in anger. A battle waged inside him. “You’re my student, Mr. Michaelson.”
Mr. Michaelson.“Yet you keep letting me in.”
“Why is that?” he asked, closing his eyes and raising his face skyward. The question seemed directed inward, so I didn’t answer.
“I’m eighteen. I get that I’m your student, but being friends isn’t wrong. It can’t be.” My voice shook.
“The powers that be may have a different opinion.”
“Well, screw them,” I spat, and he lowered his head, clearly shocked by my outburst. We enjoyed each other’s company, and while for me it wasn’t as innocent as it may have been for him, I wouldn’t ever do anything to compromise him. I’d keep it a secret. I couldn’t risk losing whatever this was. I couldn’t go back to being lonely in a room full of people.
“I—” He cut himself off, thinking, then tried again. “I have an extra ticket to Shakespeare in the Park, Denwin’s version of the production of ‘Much Ado About Nothing,’” he was quick to caution. “Against my better judgment it’s yours, if you’re interested.”
“Of course I am.” I slid to the edge of my seat.
His laughter rumbled up his chest. “Saturday evening...Phoenix.”
My face fell, crashing to the concrete at my feet. “I can’t.” My date with Mason. Of all days, why Saturday? “I have plans.”
“It’s okay. Go, have fun. I’ll fill you in.” He gave a tight smile. I could almost hear the part of his brain in charge of negative thinking telling him that he was a fool for asking, and I wondered if this would be a setback for us.
We talked for hours, about nothing and everything. Until I became conscious of the time.Midnight.An aggressive breeze kissed my skin, raising gooseflesh on my arms. I shivered, hit with the reminder that fall was rolling in, and we didn’t have many more nights to sit out and talk. To get lost, and found, together. “I’ll go.”
“Phoenix.”
I sent him a look.
“I’ll turn the light on out here and leave the door unlocked moving forward.” He whispered it unnecessarily. There were only the two of us here. Maybe he didn’t want his better judgment taking note of his wants.
“Okay,” I whispered back, also not wanting to be overheard by his good conscience.
Chapter 6
Sebastian
“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”
~Aristotle
Ihadn’t expected to feel a sense of disappointment when Phoenix told me he couldn’t accompany me to Shakespeare in the Park. A lick of shame wormed up my back at the realization that I’d become dependent on his company. Our budding friendship crossed the boundaries of student and teacher. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to turn him away. He took my mind off the heaviness of my life and reminded me of better days. But it was when he said or did something that forced me to acknowledge his maturity, forced me to disregard the roles we played in each other’s lives and look at him as a man, when he was positively sure of his beliefs no matter how big or small. Those were the moments that pulled me in deeper and blew sand over the once visible lines. I was drawn to the juxtaposition of innocence and conviction. It was catnip to the things I wished I could gain a second chance at and the mistakes I wanted to make right.
School had let out for the day, and I sat in my shared office alone, thinking about our nightly conversations. Trying to convince myself that they were perfectly ethical.
My fingers tapped my closed laptop as I battled with the decision to cross yet another line. I’d overheard him speaking with his friend in class earlier about his social media page. From what I’d gleaned, she managed it and he loathed it. She’d been excited about something that caused Phoenix distress. I shouldn’t care, and the fact that I apparently did concerned me.
“To hell with it.”
I pulled my chair in closer and opened Facebook, cursing at having to create an account in order to view his. I used a false name, ignoring the angel on my left shoulder cautioning me from going down this hole.
I pushed back from my desk, scrubbing at the scruff on my cheeks and blinking at the screen. How did I not pick up on this? I took in all the photos and posts. All dedicated to finding a connection for Mr. Michaelson.A boyfriend.I closed out of the page and shut the laptop.
