Page 23 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
“Because that’s what this feels like—”
“—I said no,” he interrupted, tearing his glasses off and casting them aside. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the light fixture on the ceiling to collect himself. He was clean-shaven today, calling more attention to the indent in his chin, to the bulge his Adam’s apple made in his corded throat. His hair flopped onto his forehead when he met my eyes again. Something brewed there. Something that wasn’t there a second ago. Like the heat from the sun battling the frigid moon. A war was being waged inside of him.
“Is it...is it what yousaw?”Please don’t tell me he has an issue with me being gay,I thought. I’d been afraid to even consider it.
“Don’t ever think that.” He reprimanded me like one would a child who’d done a bad thing. “Don’t.”
I sat there at a loss for what else to say, distracted by his aching expression. He planted his palms onto the desk and rose from his seat. Making his way to the door, he said, “Moving forward, outside of class, we can communicate by email for all things school related. I don’t think we should meet here anymore. And we certainly shouldn’t do so with the door closed.” He opened it and stood to the side. A few students and faculty members passed by in the hall.
He was dismissing me, and it ticked me off. We’d gotten nothing accomplished aside from him assuring me that my being gay wasn’t an issue. But then he was throwing me out of his office—and his life—in the next breath. My feelings were hurt. How could he disregard me so easily?Maybe this is why. The lines had absolutely become murky. I shouldn’t be upset that my teacher didn’t want to be my friend. How young and dumb was I? The fight left me fast as I thought that. “I understand, but can youpleasetreat me fairly in class. I’ve dreamed of little else for the past few years than taking this course. I’d like the privilege of the full experience. Don’t take that away from me too.” I took a step to move past him, and the door closed in my face, his palm flattened against it. My breaths came fast and hard, and I kept my eyes on the hand that prevented me from leaving. I could see him eyeing me from my peripheral, but I refused to turn my head the few centimeters required to face him head on. Until he called my name.
“Phoenix…” He moved closer, causing me to tilt my head back to keep him in my sights. He brushed my hair back, and my eyes rolled at the pleasure I felt from that.
“Please,” I begged with closed eyes when his thumb brushed my lower lip. He came closer still, and my back hit the wall.
A knock sounded at the door, breaking through our forcefield. We jumped apart, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to cover a startled yelp. Bash rushed over to his desk, sitting and sliding his chair as far under it as possible while motioning for me to sit down too. I situated myself quickly, placing my bag over my lap to conceal the tent in my pants.
“Come in!” he said, putting his glasses on.
“Mr. Wicked, I…” Theory trailed off with one foot in front of the other, eyes bouncing between me and Sebastian. She was the last person I needed to be here. I could only imagine her sifting through the energy in the room and creating a million different conspiracies in her mind. “Pheeny?” She cocked her head. “I thought you left with Danny.”
“Ah, I remembered I wanted to ask Mr. Wicked about my application and essay. You know, for the course at the university.” Thankfully, I hadn’t previously mentioned to her that I’d already spoken to him about the essay and that both had been sent in. I kept every interaction between us to myself, no matter how insignificant.
“Oh.” She aimed her focus on Sebastian, and I said a silent prayer at having successfully placated her. “Mr. Wicked, can we discuss my score on last week’s exam?” She dug around in her bag before getting his reply. I got to my feet while she was distracted, and after receiving a sharp nod from Sebastian, I all but ran from the room wondering what would’ve happened had we not been interrupted.
I rode in with Danny that morning, so I was stuck walking home. I didn’t feel the bite of the bitter wind, though. Nor was my pathway hindered by the darkening sky. It all fell away from me. I kept my fingers on my upturned lips, my cheeks cramped from smiling so hard. I got home and sat waiting for my sign. Sure enough, a few hours later, his patio light came on.
“I asked Emily for a divorce a couple weeks ago.”
Not a muscle on me moved. We’d been sitting across from each other in his living room for a while now as he collected his thoughts. The energy had felt different when I stepped into the house. Something had changed. Something was wrong. And now, this.
“I’d done something irrevocably despicable,” he said.
The night of Shakespeare in the Park.
“And things couldn’t go on as they had any longer. I’ve spent the time since finding a temporary place to rent, and moving in there.”
“I’m sorry.” I meant it too. His regret filled the room like a rancid perfume. I’d have been a monster to have taken pleasure in it. “Is that the only reason?”
“No.” The atmosphere became charged with what that one word implied. “I came to pick up a few things, but it doesn’t feel right to discuss this here.” He gazed around the room as if it were a stranger to him.
“When?”
“I’ll text you my new address. Can you meet me there tomorrow—”
“—Yes. Yes, I can meet you.”
He nodded and for the second time I leaned forward and took his hand with mine.
I’d later wonder if falling in love with Sebastian was something I could, or couldn’t help. It was hard knowing the difference when loving him felt inevitable. Written in the stars.
Chapter 8
Sebastian
“The measure of a man is what he does with power.”
~Plato
