Page 3 of Tempting the Teacher

I walked away from her and did everything I could to show her I didn’t want her. Denying myself became the self-flagellation I thought I deserved. With a sigh, I slide into my sports car and punch up my favorite rock playlist. Taking my anger out on a stereo system not designed for abuse. Years of therapy have taught me not to hate that kid. Not that I ever went into an office. Instead, I churned through business books trying to grow my business but really searching for an antidote to the poison feeding my soul. Eventually, I found it in a book titled Powerful You, Powerful Me, The Power of We. It was a business book, but it taught one core lesson: you can’t build on water. Explaining that you have to build yourself up, strengthen yourself—fortify yourself at your most basic level before you can scale up.

Ain’t that the fucking truth?

I’m not thinking of great truths as I drive away. Instead, Raya’s eyes haunt me, as they have since the day of the funeral. The spark of challenge in them, the promise of something more.

Something human.

Something real.

After fifteen long ass years, I want it. Want it more than anything. I want to be real with her. To be human—with her. That hasn’t changed. The only thing that changed is that now I believe I deserve it. That I’m fucking worthy—that I too have value. Even though the sleek silhouette of my jet looms large, my value doesn’t have shit to do with money. I’m flying into the unknown, propelled by hope, regret, and the urge to make things right. All I need is a chance, an opportunity to face Raya, and maybe, just maybe, find forgiveness.

* * *

When I step onto the tarmac of what Bear Ridge calls an airport, I’m greeted by the smiling faces of Ryan and Bryan Barkley. The twins who once ruled the football field alongside me. Bryan, as massive as ever with his lumberjack build, swallows me in a bear hug, nearly crushing my ribs. “Richie Rich, you finally made it. Took your ass long enough.” He booms, releasing me with a hearty laugh.

Ryan, the more laid-back of the two, extends his hand with a grin. “Yeah, man. We were pretty sure one of your hired geeks finally stabbed you with a memory stick and replaced you with a clone.”

I slap his cowboy hat off for shits and giggles while they wrestle my bags into the back of the truck. “First of all, Farmer John, it’s called a thumb drive now. But don’t strain your pea brain to memorize the term, because they’re about to be as out of date as your jokes.”

He grins at me. The sunny smile knocking the chill off the mountain’s fall weather. “My pea brain is the same size as your dick, so don’t knock it.”

“Pre-schoolers in the car, please, and buckle your seat belts before the school bus takes off.” Bryan orders, closing the pickup’s cargo bed. We climb into Ryan’s pickup, and the familiar landscape of Bear Ridge unfolds before us, blending towering mountains, with dense forests, and cozy homes nestled in the hills.

“Bro, you should have come to the reunion last year,” Ryan starts, with the same mischievous look in his eyes from when we were kids. Shit, I missed Raya, but the hell if I haven’t missed them too.

“Yeah,” Bryan chimes in. “You could have had a front-row seat at Ryan finally landing Alix. The show was better than any concert she’s ever done.”

“You better not let her hear you say that.”

“She knows she’s my favorite country music star. How could she not be, when she’s about to have pity on your sorry ass and marry you?” He runs a puzzled hand across his stubble beard. “Still don’t understand it, though. Why would Alix settle for the duplicate when the original is right here?” They smile in the mirror, doing that twin thing that used to kill me with jealousy. Jealous not just about the brotherhood, but about having someone who always had your back.

Ryan focuses on the highway again, and his eyes take on a dreamy quality. “Being with her… It’s like…” His eyes shift again as he looks for the right words. “It’s like she left but when she returned, I came home. You guys get it, right?”

Now it’s my turn to share a look with Bryan before guffaws break out. “No, dude. What the hell are you talking about?”

Bryan joins me. Using a falsetto voice to repeat Ryan’s words. “She left, but I came home.” He belly laughs some more. “Bro, you are so pussy whipped.”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m getting pussy. And it is…” He stops and blushes. Ryan Barkley turns redder than a tomato before he continues. “Nope, I won’t bother to tell your asses. You don’t deserve to know how much better sex is when you’re making love.” He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m not saying a word. I’m going to let you guys find out the hard way, like I did. So it can knock both of you off your fucking feet.” He rolls his eyes and presses play on a cd and the cabin fills with Alix’s latest album. It only takes us a second before Bryan and I realize what he’s playing and burst into more laughter.

A comfortable silence settles over us as we make our way toward my family’s mansion, the winding roads of Bear Ridge giving way to the more secluded parts of the mountains. The sun dips below the horizon, painting the world in orange and pink.

When we pull up to the entrance, it hits me. I’m back in Bear Ridge, back to the mountains, back to the memories. I step out of the truck, my feet on familiar ground, my heart whirling with emotions. The twins bid me farewell, their teasing banter echoing in my ears as I wave away another round of invitations. They don’t want to leave me alone. They don’t get that I’m done running from the past. The house is stately, grand, and cold. Rooms that once echoed with Nana’s lively laughter are ghostly silent. I step into the entryway, my footsteps loud in the stillness. Everything’s cleaned and prepped, with a sterile newness that masks the residual scents of Nana’s cooking. The house is ready for my visit. The only thing missing is the heart of the home—Nana.

When I’d gotten into trouble at boarding school, my parents dumped me with her. Driving away so fast, they left racecar skid marks on the driveway—and never looked back. They’d hidden her away in Bear Ridge, embarrassed by the simple and strict moral code they despised. Nana was a no-nonsense widow who didn’t take my abuse lying down. They’d done it as a punishment for the unforgivable sin of embarrassing them. They’d taken away so many of the things I’d owned—and never realized they replaced it with a treasure. Someone who, as she often said, would fight me to save me. The threat was real, but her eyes were soft.

Switching on lights as I move through the house, Nana greets me in every room. I hear her joy as we baked cookies, and see her stern yet kind face as she helped me with homework. She was a teacher at Bear Ridge Elementary School, and she knew kids. She’d just met me, but she knew me, too. Now she’s gone, and seven months later, my heart still aches with regret. I became as busy and careless with the people I loved as my parents had been. Staying away from my friends, my family, and the only place I’ve ever called home.

Grief twists inside me when I spy the obituary lying neatly on the office desk. I’d come for Nana’s funeral and fled. Running from my sorrow as if I hadn’t learned the hard way, that running never works. Sad faces from the past had swirled around me. Only one face captivated my attention. Raya stood apart from the other mourners, and I watched her until she noticed. Her eyes met mine, the way they had that first day in school. Gut punching me through my grief. Stunning me. And then, dammit, I did the same thing I’d done in high school. Turned away.

This reunion gives me a chance to do something good for the town and the students in it. No matter how hard Raya fights me about it. I plan to construct a tech center as a community hub for county kids, with coding and STEM instructors on hand. There’s no better person to lead this new venture than the girl who tutored me in comp sci as a teen. The girl who haunted my dreams and touched my heart, even when I was too stubborn to admit it. A smile tugs at my lips. I’ll make this right, for Nana, for the town, and for Raya. I owe them all that much. I owe them everything.

Raya

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries permeates Bear Ridge High School’s cafeteria. Purple and gold banners proclaiming, ‘Welcome Alumni!’ hang from the ceiling, adding a cheery touch to the usually drab lunchroom. I smile at some of my students, and the smiles I receive in return brighten my mood. Seeing their excitement reminds me of why I’m here. Okay, yes, part of it is because Noel would have dragged me kicking and screaming. The other part is for them. The students here are extensions of my family. We connect in ways that would be impossible in the mega school Superintendent Peterson is pushing. From the time they start as wide-eyed, eager freshmen until they graduate as jaded seniors, we’ve spent countless hours together. They grow up with me, and every graduation is bittersweet. Parents send their babies off to college once—I do it yearly. Breaking my heart and rebuilding it to do it all again for the next group of seniors. I wouldn’t change a single minute of it.

This reunion isn’t for my graduating class. Technically, this class graduated two years ahead of me and Noel. However, in a small community, students from previous years stop by anyway. Usually, I don’t mind. In fact, I look forward to it as students I haven’t seen in a few years pop in to catch up. Flattering and honoring me with praise I don’t deserve. They did the hard part. Because nothing is harder than changing, growing, and learning from your mistakes. They now appreciate the lessons they once fought me over. Not the coding lessons—lessons on sticking with a difficult task, dusting yourself off after you’ve fallen, and how important it is to push your shoulders back, pick your head up, and keep going despite naysayers and bullies. Learning to ignore the crowd and be their authentic self is a doctoral class in self-esteem. It doesn’t come easily, but I teach them that the best things in life rarely do.

I’m so glad I had teachers like Chad’s grandmother. She taught elementary and junior high school, so she never saw how her grandson tried to break me. Looking back, he wasn’t so bad. After that first awful day, he spent most of his time ignoring me. However, because everyone courted his favor, his initial jest got the ball rolling, and after that, some were happy to keep it going. Still, I could have forgiven him for joining the laughter and high-fiving the crass remarks. The part I don’t get and can’t forgive was his duplicity.

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