Page 57 of The Academy
“The only reason I don’t like you,” Davi says, “is because you don’t want me to like you.”
Fair enough,Charley thinks.
“However, I do respect you,” Davi says.
Charley considers this. “Thank you,” she says. “That means a lot. Especially tonight.”
“Did something happen?” Davi asks.
Charley imagines confiding in Davi Banerjee about East. Hahaha! Never in a million years. “Nothing happened,” Charley says. She pushes out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She will tackle pre-calc, she thinks. She and her amazing hair will have a productive night.
There are only four weeks left in the semester and if Simone doesn’t intervene, East will fail her class. When F-period ends, she says, “East, will you please stay?”
She waits until everyone has emptied out (is it her imagination or is Charley Hicks lingering?) and then Simone closes the door.
“You have a zero in this class,” she says. “If you don’t start producing, you’ll fail.”
“I won’t fail.”
His cockiness enrages her. “I’m not on your father’s payroll, Andrew,” she says. “Iwillfail you.”
He seems amused by this, which is the opposite of what she wants. She wants fear, deference, respect.
“Maybe I do need extra help,” he says. “What about tonight during Study Hall? I can meet you here at eight.”
“Here?” Simone says. “No. I’ll meet you at the Sink.”
“I can’t let anyone see me actually studying,” East says. “It’ll ruin my reputation.”
“What about the Grille?”
“Nah, I’ll meet you here.”
Why is Simone letting him set the terms? She should say,We need to meet in a public place so nothing happens.
But she doesn’t.
Simone can’t be surprised when East shows up without books, without a laptop, without anything. Before she even opens her mouth to speak, he turns off the light in the classroom and locks the door.
Simone stands up from her desk. Is she going to stop this? There’s no one else in the Schoolhouse—she was careful to check—thoughshe knows Mr. James swings by once or twice a night. But does he check every single room? Does he even bother to come inside?
Simone isn’t thinking clearly; she’s mortified to admit it, but she finished the bottle of wine hidden in her closet before she came. The wine has impaired her good judgment—isn’t that what she was hoping it would do?—and so when she feels East’s hands on her waist and his mouth warm and firm on hers, she lets it happen. As they kiss, East runs a light finger over her nipple. She wore only a camisole beneath her blouse instead of a bra; every choice tonight was in subconscious anticipation of what’s happening right now. Simone can’t believe how skilled East is: Other boys his age would grab or tug, but East’s touch is a barely there graze, a tease that makes her groan into his mouth.
He leads her over to the Harkness table where she moderates discussions during class. He hoists her up so that she’s sitting in her usual spot and he slides off her jeans before kneeling before her.
Oh my god,Simone thinks. His tongue is slow at first but then he goes faster in just the right spot; she hates that he’s good at this. When she comes, she claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.
He pulls away. By this time, Simone’s eyes have adjusted to the dark; she can see the outline of him heading for the door.
“Thanks for the extra help,” he says. “I understand the material much better now.”
Simone waits fifteen minutes, twenty, she’s shaking with fear and shame. What has she done? Did she learn nothing from the debacle at McGill? She was lucky to get this job, lucky that Audre Robinson didn’t dig any deeper into her background. Simone’s intention was to shine at Tiffin—and hasn’t she been doing just that? The girls inthe dormloveher. Most of them, anyway. She has diligently studied all the material she’s presenting in class and the kids—most of them, anyway—respond to her teaching style. They have thought-provoking conversations. “History” isn’t just facts and dates. It’s up for interpretation. Whose perspective is represented, whose is ignored?
None of this matters, however, because Simone Bergeron is a criminal.
When she feels enough time has passed to put a cushion between East’s departure and her own, she leaves the Schoolhouse. The second she steps out into the raw evening—November has arrived like the grim reaper; all the trees are bare, the wind howls at night, the skies have been brooding and gray—she hears her name and nearly jumps out of her skin.
She turns: It’s Rhode, coming from the Teddy.
