Page 20 of Learn Your Limits
JustMilo:But you have a point.
JustMilo:You’d be willing to wait until the semester is over? No other person is going to catch your eye while you wait for me? Be real, Cal. You’re young and in a sea full of other students your age without the complications that come with... me. I’m not an easy option.
The use of the nickname “Cal” didn’t bother me the first time we spoke, but now that he knows my real name, I don’t like the idea of the pseudonym on his lips. I don’t think I have the answer he wants to hear, but all I can do is be honest with him.
Between the two of us, he’s supposed to be the older, wiser one. Neither one of us can really promise that no other person will catch our eye, but isn’t that true with every relationship?
Even in marriage, couples often find themselves attracted to other people. So, yeah, someone else might“catch my eye,” but I’ve never felt this kind of connection to someone before. I’ve never wanted to pursue someone the same way I want to pursue him.
CallMeCal:I would never do anything to purposely put your job at risk.
CallMeCal:You make it sound like I’m the only one who could potentially meet someone else. I can’t promise that nobody else will catch my eye, and neither can you, but I can tell you that I think you’re worth the wait.
CallMeCal:Ever heard the phrase “the hard roads are the ones worth taking”?
I close out of the app and throw my phone down on my desk and then busy myself with gathering up all of the imperfect sketches and shoving them into the small trash bin beside it.
It feels pathetic to want whatever he’ll give me, but I don’t know what else to do. I downloaded this stupid app with the intent of meeting someone, and I did.
It just so happens that person is my psychology professor for the next fifteen weeks.
By Friday, the week has passed by in a blur of assignments, and I’ve been doing my best to avoid Milo. At least, in person. Not that I’ve been doing a great job, but I’m trying to give him space. I sit in the same spot each day I'm in his class. The center of the third row, close enough that he can see me clearly but far away enough that I’m not tempted to reach out for him or make some comment under my breath in a room full of fellow students. I don’t need to give anyone a reason to look too closely at us.
I’ve been messaging him with random thoughts and things that happen throughout the day, all while keeping my distance when we’re in the same room. I’m desperate to maintain and grow this connection between us. I don’t want it to fizzle out just because we aren’t able to have anything physical right now.
A boundary that I both respect and hate.
Sitting in Milo’s class this morning feels like torture. I woke up way earlier than I needed to and got lost in my own head, completely focused on the drawing of a phoenix that I’ve been working on. I don’t always add color to my designs, but I can’t wait to see this one completed. I was so absorbed in the design, I missed my alarm and was late to my first class of the day, which just so happens to be Milo’s. I was forced to take a seat in the back of the class, and I swear I can feel the disappointment radiating off of him.
I’m just not sure if he’s upset with me for being late and interrupting his lecture, though it wasn’t my intention, or if he’s upset because I’m sitting farther away. I’m really hoping it’s the latter.
“And that’s all for today. I expect everyone to do the assigned reading and be prepared for discussion on Monday. Mr. Callahan, a word, please?”
I heave a sigh—more for show than anything else—and slide my laptop into my backpack. Throwing it over my shoulder, I make my way down the steps separating us.
“I apologize for interrupting class, Professor Cervantes,” I murmur, dropping my eyes to the floor and shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “I got a little sidetracked. It won't happen again.” I can't be one hundred percent sure that I'll never be late to his class again, but it seems like the sort of thing people say in situations like this.
“And what is it that had you so distracted at such an early time?” Milo asks, crossing his arms as he leans back against his desk. It’s casual. He merely looks like a professor talking to a student, nothing more.
I hold his gaze for a moment, brows pinching together as a war wages within me. I don't ever show anyone my art, especially not when it's unfinished, but I've already shown him one piece. What's one more? Shifting my focus away from him, I reach into my backpack and pull out my sketchbook, flipping to the phoenix I was working on before class.
With both reluctance and excitement churning in my stomach, I hand Milo my art.
Chapter eighteen
Emiliano
“A phoenix rising from its ashes,” I comment, my eyes taking in the black and white sketch. “Transformation and resurrection through destruction.”
After my initial comment, I remain silent, losing myself in the linework and shading of Reid’s drawing. Truthfully, I am stalling as much as I am admiring the artwork. From my periphery, I see the last few retreating shapes of students from my morning lecture. My skin tingles with the need for them to leave so that I might have a few private minutes with Reid. The texts through the app and these short conversations in person have been the only things I’ve allowed myself to have when it comes to him.
This past week has been taxing, and I feel like I am a man hanging on to his last thread. Nevermind the immense amount of work I’ve had from my own subject and the classes I’m covering. That’s something I can handle just fine.
It’s the young man standing in front of me who greets me every morning and shares his thoughts with me throughout the day that makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. Losing my will. Despite the way I’ve tried to turn him down or push him away forboth of our sakes, he is transforming me as much as the brilliant bird is reborn in his drawing.
The door to the lecture hall slams closed, and I know it’s just me and Reid in the room. I don’t even have to look around to check if students are here because of the electricity that builds in the air whenever we are alone.
“You don’t need to answer, but I’m curious,” I begin, finally taking the chance to properly meet Reid’s eyes. I flip the drawing so that it faces him now. “Does the symbolism apply to you?”
