Page 10 of Student Seduction
My brain and ovaries got the message at the same time.
Both imploded on impact.
I wanted to say something but my ability for language was wiped out with the rest of me.
“There’s something about you. Something different. It makes me want to protect you and corrupt you all at once.” He let his head fall back and focused on the ceiling. “I should probably just quit right now before I get fired. Invest in some crayons for my future students.”
He rubbed his temples as I struggled to sting words together. He’d wanted to make a difference. He was making a difference to me already. I’d never felt as alive as I did in his presence. Even when I was angry, it was as if he’d awoken something inside me. Some version of myself that was strong and capable and unafraid.
That stood up for me. That took no shit.
“Don’t. It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my age or that I was still in high school. There wasn’t really a good time.”
“I get that. I didn’t exactly ask to see your I.D.”
“Look, no one has to know about what happened. Well, except Drew knows. But trust me, he’s good with secrets,” I reassured him. “When the principle comes in, we’ll tell him I had a rough morning at home and took it out on you. You had first day jitters and were kind of a dick to me. We both messed up. Call it even?”
I reached out to shake his hand. He looked at it like a viper about to strike.
“You sure? What I just said to you, just now, as your teacher, I should’ve kept that to myself.”
The liquid heat spreading through me pulsed faster. “I’m glad you didn’t. I needed to know I wasn’t the only one who felt, whatever it is, this is.”
He shook my hand and it was like touching the hot stove and realizing I craved the pain and wanted more. I missed the connection, feeling bereft when he let go.
“So what do we do now?”
A dozen answers flitted through my mind, none of them appropriate to speak out loud. So I said recalled Drew’s advice.
“We behave like adults, Mr. Singleton. We put our past behind us, pretend we’ve never met before, and move on.”
His brow creased. “You really think we can do that?”
The door opened and Principal Stewart nodded to us before turning back to say something to his secretary.
“I think we damn well better try. For both our sakes,” I said only loud enough for him to hear.
Aiden didn’t have time to respond before Principal Stewart sat before us. He took his sweet time getting comfortable in his massive leather chair.
“So I hear there was an incident in homeroom this morning,” he said while adjusting his wire-framed glasses. “And then Emersyn, you checked out and back in.” He shuffled the folders on his desk. “What I’m wondering, Mr. Singleton, is why you didn’t fill out a discipline referral form.”
Aiden sat up straight in his chair and tilted his head to one side. “I’m not sure I’m clear on what you’re referring to Principal Stewart.”
Omar Stewart was a large imposing black man with a shiny bald head. He’d played college basketball in his younger days as he frequently mentioned during assemblies and now had a beautiful wife and three sons around my age. He was intelligent, intimidating, and had this wise old owl demeanor that made me wonder what the hell Aiden was thinking. Of course he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t that big of a school. Half the town probably knew by now.
“According to several teachers, students are reporting that Miss. Tyler used profanity in your classroom this morning. Directed at you specifically.”
Aiden must’ve missed his calling as an actor because he looked so surprised I almost believed him. He glanced at me slowly, then turned his bemused attention back to Principal Stewart.
“There must be some misunderstanding. Miss Tyler was running late this morning and informed me that she wasn’t feeling quite herself. I told her to do what she needed to do. All that was on the agenda this morning was passing out schedules, lockers, and the syllabus, all of which she obtained before leaving. If she used any profanity, it must’ve been under her breath.”
Principal Stewart turned his unwavering gaze to me. “Emersyn.” His use of my name didn’t have quite the effect on me that hearing Aiden use it did. “Can you tell me what you said in class this morning that has so many students carrying on about it?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. My hands were shaking so I clasped them together in my lap.
Think. Breathe.
I shrugged, trying my best to channel some of Aiden’s Oscar-worthy mystification about the whole episode. “I’m afraid I can’t recall, sir. I actually had a terrible morning. My mother wasn’t feeling well, my little brother forgot his lunch, and I was dealing with a lot. I wasn’t quite myself, as I told Mr. Singleton, and did excuse myself from class. But I don’t recall what I said verbatim.”
