Chapter Three
Clarity
"This isn't happening; it's not possible." I stood up and circled the pink trunk used as a coffee table.
Jasmine lounged on the compact, white sofa in her dorm room and tried not to smile. "Just because it's never happened before doesn't mean it's not possible," she said.
I scratched at my throat and couldn't catch a deep breath. "Is this how people feel? Really? It's terrible. Like an avalanche and volcanic eruption all at the same time."
"You know, your father thinks you're so straight and narrow because he's never seen you like this," Jasmine said.
"I've never seen her like this," Lexi called from the minute bathroom. "All hot and bothered. I think that Professor Bauer has got her number."
"Don't change the subject," I groaned and flopped down on the sofa next to Jasmine.
Lexi marched into the middle of the dorm room and planted her hands on her hips. "Relax, Clarity, it's just a D+."
I tossed the offending article on the pink trunk and covered my face with both hands. "I can't believe he gave me a D+."
Jasmine hooked the article with one, long arm and flipped through the pages. "His comments are really insightful. Man, I wish my English professor wrote half as many encouraging things. Have you even read his edits?" Jasmine asked.
"Why? All they'll tell me is that I suck at the only career I've ever wanted," I said.
"That's not true." Lexi pried my hands off my face and smiled brightly, “You used to want to be a writer. Like the woman who wrote that series we all obsessed over in high school."
"Don't be silly." I sat up and looked over Jasmine's shoulder. "That was high school. This is the real world, and journalism is a more-respected profession."
"Come on," Lexi sighed. "You used to be such a great storyteller. I still have nightmares about that three eyes story you told us around the campfire."
"Ooh," Jasmine gave a delighted shiver. "He could watch you even when his back was turned. Creepy awesome."
"What does that say?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.
Jasmine held up Professor Bauer's comment and read, "Very poetic, but distracts from the point."
"See, I'm a total failure," I flopped back again.
Lexi snatched up the article. "He's complimenting you. Word choice, creative details, poetic images, and excellent storytelling. You just went over the word limit and buried the lead."
My groan turned into a growl. "So he thinks I'm flowery and frivolous. He doesn't even know me!"
"Is that what's bothering you?" Lexi asked. She sat down on the pink trunk directly across from me. "You're bothered because he got the wrong impression from your assignment?"
Jasmine sat up, her blue eyes sparkling. "What are you going to do, confront him during office hours? Step right up to that handsome face and tell him exactly how wrong he is about you?"
I stood up and paced around my friend's cluttered dorm room. "I'm not some dreamy poet or some fairytale writer. I want him to take me seriously." I snatched up my coat and book bag.
Jasmine clapped her hands. "Yeah, go to his office and make him take a good, long look at you. Here, I'll do your hair."
I swatted her away. "This doesn't have anything to do with how attractive Ford, I mean Professor Bauer, is. He needs to know that I take my work seriously, and I intend to be an excellent journalist. He can't scare me off or steer me towards some other career."
"Maybe he's just trying to provoke you," Lexi said.
Jasmine clapped again. "And now he's waiting for you to come into his office breathing fire so he can tame you."
"That's it," I cried. "I'm confiscating your paperbacks. You have got romance on the brain." I scooped up an armful of novels with ripped-bodice heroines and bare-chested heroes.
"Might want to leave those here if you're going for a serious vibe," Lexi said.
I dumped the books on the pink trunk and left in a huff, despite my friend's good-natured laughter. They didn't understand the pressure I felt. I had carefully and practically selected my chosen career because journalism kept me firmly rooted in real life. To have anyone, including Professor Bauer, point out that I was more like my creative, free-spirited mother turned my core to ice. I didn't want to resemble her in any way.
Thinking of her wild, long curls, I carefully tamed my hair into a low ponytail. The journalism professor all had offices on the top floor of Thompson Hall, and I ran up the steps two at a time. I took a moment to smooth down my pink sweater and catch my breath. Then, I knocked on Professor Bauer's office door and tapped my foot quickly on the hallway floor.
"Clarity, I'm not surprised." Ford checked his watch. "Actually, I am. Office hours are almost over. I thought you'd be here right away, ready to tear into me for your D+. As it is now, I was just getting ready to leave."
I shoved him aside and marched into his office. "Office hours are set, school policy, and I still have time. This is your office?"
The narrow, attic room was dominated on one side by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Straight ahead, a lancet window let in sunlight dappled by the ivy still clinging to the outside of the limestone building.
"What's wrong with my office?" Ford asked. "It's got everything I need: a desk, a couple of chairs, and I even have a little couch."
I looked at the sagging couch and opted for an old, wooden chair. "You have like five things on your shelves," I said.
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm still moving in. I work at home a lot." His gray eyes turned from smoke to metal. "And it doesn't matter how much time we have to debate, I'm not changing your grade."
I scooted to the edge of my chair as he sat down next to me. "You docked me for using flowery language. The assignment was to describe artwork."
"Precisely," he sighed. "The focus needed to stay on the artwork, not on your clever turns of phrase. The reader is not supposed to notice you as an author, but as the organizer of clear facts."
I sprang up. "Your rubric is unduly harsh. It's your responsibility to nurture my abilities and teach me new skills, not crush my spirit."
Ford's pupils dilated and twinkled as he smiled. "You don't look very crushed to me."
I forced my hands off my hips and stopped leaning over him. "I don't understand why journalism has to be so impersonal."
He sat up and stopped himself from taking my hand. Ford crossed his arms over his chest and nodded for me to sit down again. "Journalism isn't impersonal; in fact, the best writers of any genre keep the focus on the topic."
I sank back into the hard chair. "How?"
"A good way to learn is to write about something outside of your comfort zone. That way it's a new experience for both you and the reader, and you can learn how to present it that way." Ford grinned. "What can you try that you've never done before?"
I was distracted by his lips, by wondering how soft his black stubble would feel under the palm of my hand. I had never secluded myself in an attic office with an undeniably attractive man before. Leaning closer to catch the lingering smell of his soap would definitely be out of my comfort zone.
I shook the temptation off and reminded myself we were separated by the Landsman College Honor Code. "I don't know, but if I find something and write an article about it, will that raise my grade?"
"Sure, extra credit for breaking out of your shell." He held out a hand to shake.
His fingers were strong, his grip sure, and I had to say something to break the electric spell of his touch. "Have you been talking to my father? Because someone should tell him he might not actually like it if I start bending the rules."
"He might not, but I bet I will," Ford said. Then he broke our handshake and stood up to hold the door open. He cleared his throat. "Good luck, Ms. Dunkirk."
"Thanks, professor."
#
"All I'm saying is that it seems counterintuitive to bring me along while you go out of your comfort zone. An old friend is like a security blanket; everyone knows that." Lexi craned her neck to look up at the elaborate ropes course that stretched far off into the tree tops.
"I'll owe you, Lex. Home-cooked meals at the dean's house for a week," I said. "And maybe we don't actually have to get hoisted up there. Maybe I can just interview people and create the story that way."
"The new article that's going to erase that D+?" Lexi shook her head. "I really don't think a few points on your GPA is worth getting killed over."
"Alright, students, remember this trip to the ropes course is sponsored by Landsman College. As long as you participate, you represent our school, so let's show them how brave they make 'em up on the hill." Ford appeared from behind the Landsman College bus.
"Oh, now I get it," Lexi nudged me in the ribs. "Professor Hotness is chaperoning. Why didn't you say this was about more than extra credit?"
I rubbed my side and glowered at her mischievous smile. "I had no idea he was chaperoning this trip. Of all the crappy luck—"
"Partner up," Ford called.
"Excuse me, Lexi? Do you remember me from Biology class? I'm Ethan." A handsome student with sandy-blond hair smiled down at my petite friend.
"Yes, you are," Lexi smiled, "and you know what else you are, Ethan? My partner."
"What?" I cried.
"Just trying to help with that whole comfort zone thing," Lexi said as she laced her arm through Ethan's and left me standing alone.
"Fine, I'll just go alone," I called.
"Sorry, the instructor says everyone needs a partner. I'm the only one left," Ford said. He handed me one of the two harnesses he was holding. "If it makes you feel better, we get to go first."
The nimble strength of his fingers as he helped me into the harness added a whole different tone to my jangling nerves. Ford stood just inches away, close enough that his shadowed chin caught a few tendrils of my hair. He brushed them carefully back into place. His touch was so soft that it was impossible for me to feel it all the way to the soles of my feet, but I did.
"Last chance to back out," he said.
"No way in hell," I grumbled and grabbed hold of the rope with both hands. Ford and the instructor hoisted me high up to the first platform.
"You're just nervous because now you're the dork partnered with the teacher," I whispered to myself on the treetop platform and waved to Lexi far below. "If this doesn't count as out of my comfort zone, then Professor Bauer is insane."
He was insane. The whole student group cheered as he opted to climb the tree instead of catch a ride to the top. I couldn't see much from my angle, but Lexi was fanning herself and shooting me thumbs ups.
"Sorry," Ford said, only slightly out of breath. "Can't let the students think I'm an old man."
I clung to the tree trunk but offered him one arm. He shook his head and hauled himself onto the platform before springing to his feet. The crowd below cheered.
"Good job, professor." I couldn't take my eyes off him.
Ford was jaw-dropping in just an undershirt and jeans. He'd shed his college logo button down below, and the white, short-sleeved shirt did nothing to hide the taut strain and flex of his chiseled muscles. Standing so casually on the edge of a dizzying drop, Ford looked more like a superhero than a college professor.
"Army training," he explained when he saw my eyes were riveted to his biceps. "Haven't broken the habit yet."
I refused to let him see me drooling over his rock-hard physique. This ropes course and a perfectly worded article were all that stood between me and a better grade. I inched around the tree trunk and swallowed hard as I looked out across the ropes course. Two parallel ropes, one over the other, stretched from our platform far across to another one. In between seemed to be nothing but open air.
"I'll go first, if you want. Or we can go together," Ford said. "Hold my hand?"
I snorted. "You don't think I can do this? I'm going first."
I grabbed the higher rope and inched onto the lower one. Moving hand over hand and sliding my feet first apart and then together, I moved out past the tree branches. Everything was fine until I felt Ford's weight bounce the ropes.
"You're doing great, Clarity; keep going," he called.
I couldn't let him catch up with me. The temptation to grab onto his agile and strong body would be too much, and we were literally hanging, fully exposed above a group of Landsman College students.
"Slow down, if you want," Ford said. "This isn't a race."
My inappropriate attraction to him drove me faster along the ropes. I hit the next platform and kept going, as if the devil himself was chasing me. I didn't slow down until my safety line, secured by carabiners, got tangled at another treetop platform.
"Here, let me help," Ford said. He stepped onto the small platform and reached his arms around me.
I peeked out around his shoulder and realized the rest of the college students were far behind. In my anxiety to keep an appropriate distance between me and Ford, I had somehow separated us from everyone else. Despite the chill in the air, the trees still held reddish and gold leaves, secluding us from everyone else.
"Yeah," Ford said, following my gaze. "Looks like we've got the place to ourselves for a few minutes."
A wave of dizziness swept over my head, and I swayed back. Ford's arms immediately locked around my waist and drew me hard against his chest.
"I got you. Don't worry, Clarity; I won't let you fall," he said.
The plunging sensation only increased as I tipped my head up to meet his smoky-gray eyes. "Thanks, professor, but I'll be fine." I brought my gloved hands up between us and pushed against the hard contours of his chest.
He didn't release me. "You know, you can call me Ford. There's no policy against that."
"I can't do that," I said.
Our lips were just inches away, and for a moment, Ford shortened the distance and I couldn't breathe. "Maybe if my name was prettier, like yours. Clarity," he whispered. "Why do I like saying that so much?"
I felt heat as if the sunlight had burned through the high clouds and reached through the treetops to touch me directly. I blinked and saw the light had not changed, except in Ford's eyes. The smoky-gray had deepened to reveal a dark blue, like the stormy ocean when the depths are disturbed.
My hands were supposed to push him away, not drag my fingertips across the ridges of his abs, and start to slip around his waist. The absentminded move made Ford's lips part on a ragged sigh, and I felt his arms flex around me.
"Clarity," he whispered, louder this time.
"We can't," I said.
Ford’s voice was a low growl. "That doesn't make this any easier to ignore."
A wave of desire was pouring out from his eyes, and I felt myself about to drown. My entire body buzzed with the need to press against him, test the soft pressure of his lips, and dive into the whirlpool of lust I could feel spinning inside of me.
It took every bit of strength and nerve for me to turn around and secure my carabiner to the zip line. The line stretched out through the branches at a reasonable angle, but I wasn't prepared for the speed my body weight would create. I flew through the autumn leaves, and the wind buffeted away my scream before it could escape my throat.
I wanted to enjoy it, the wild rush of it. The free flying sweep out of the treetops and over the forest floor was exactly what I needed to capture for my news article. If I could make the reader feel the same exhilaration and sense of rapture, then Ford would have to give me an A+.
The only problem was separating it from my personal experience. What I had felt on the far-reaching ropes and the treetop platforms was not what the reader wanted to know. Somehow, I had to untangle the riot of feelings I had experienced on the high platform. My heart skidded to a swinging stop at the thought. Did Ford feel the same way I did when we touched?
I must have imagined it. Otherwise, he was right; how were we supposed to ignore it?
Two ropes course instructors caught me at the bottom and released me from the harness. Ford came flying down, laughing and whooping. When he was also free, he walked over to me.
"I don't care what you say, that was awesome."
I drew a shaky breath and pushed him away. "How's that for getting outside my comfort zone?"
Ford bumped a bare arm against me, and we both felt the jolt of electricity pass between us. "There's no going back now," he said.
#
My notes trailed off into a blank space slashed with absentminded pen marks. I had forgotten to hit record on my laptop, and Professor Bauer's lecture was almost over. I wanted to throw down my pen and admit defeat, but I could feel his eyes on me. Not a long stare, or a glance that anyone else would notice, but every time his eyes passed over me, I was back in the treetops.
The night after the ropes course, I couldn't sleep. It gave me plenty of time to write and rewrite the article to make up for my D+, but even I had to admit that was not why I was sleepless. Lexi had pressed me the entire way back to campus, but I didn't say a thing.
There was no way anyone could know what happened with Ford. Almost happened. I had to keep reminding myself that nothing actually happened. The proximity, the temptation, and the ragged words he whispered were all so heady in my memory that I felt a wave of hot guilt every time he glanced up at my row.
"Ms. Dunkirk, perhaps you can recap the best storytelling beats for a human interest piece?" Professor Bauer asked.
The lecture hall turned on me, and all I could do was shake my head. If there had been a crack in the floor, I would have tried to crawl in it. Where was my focus? I bent my head and concentrated on that day's material. The answer had to be in there somewhere.
I couldn't untangle any of my other thoughts, but I was determined to find the answer to his question. When I didn’t answer, he moved on to someone else.
The next time I looked up, the last student stepped out of the lecture hall, and I was alone with Ford. He startled when he looked up and saw me, then his surprise turned into a slow-burning smile. I slammed my book and stood up to gather my things.
"Having trouble focusing?" Ford leaned a hip against his desk.
"No. Why would I be unfocused?" I snapped.
He laughed. "I don't know, maybe your head is still up in the treetops. It was pretty impressive how you conquered that ropes course."
"As long as the article I wrote changed that D+ to an A+," I said.
Ford caught me at the exit. "Clarity, I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable. I think the excitement of the course just got the better of me."
All I could do was stare at his strong fingers holding my arm in a gentle but iron grip. "I was terrified," I said, "I don't remember much."
He grinned and my insides flipped. "You can't lie. And I meant what I said."
My vision furred around the edges. "About what?"
"You can't go back to being all ultra-focused. Now that you pushed your own boundaries, there's no going back." Ford slipped his hand down my arm to squeeze my fingers.
"Did I get the A+?" I asked.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes. Happy?"
I walked out of the lecture hall before he could see me smile.
In the foyer of Thompson Hall, I let out a wobbly breath, then almost screamed as someone called my name.
"Clarity? Jeez, sorry. Are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you," Thomas reached out a hand to steady me, then shoved it in his pocket instead. "I was just waiting in case you wanted to grab a coffee or something."
"Thanks, Thomas, that's nice, but I'm going to head over to the library," I said.
"Maybe tomorrow," Thomas said. "Hey, I've got the notes from today's lecture if you need them. Professor Bauer really zeroes in on you, doesn't he?"
I stopped and turned back to my classmate. "Why do you say that?"
Thomas brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "Everyone thinks you're Professor Bauer's prized student. I mean, you're the one he calls on with all the hard questions, and you're usually the first to make him clarify something."
I cleared my throat around a rising knot of panic. "I don't think he singles me out. He's hard on the students he thinks aren't paying attention."
"That's not you, usually," Thomas said. "Usually you're more than ready to hold your own."
I knew Thomas wanted to say more. He shifted from one lanky leg to the other. "What is it?" I crossed my arms and looked up at him.
"It's just, well, I feel like you should know the rumors, even though you're totally above all that." Thomas didn't know what to do with his hands, and they flapped around until he shoved them deep in his pockets again.
Thompson Hall started to spin around me. "What rumors?"
Thomas cleared his throat. "Professor Bauer, people say that he, I mean, he has in the past..."
I groaned, "Just spit it out, Thomas!"
"Professor Bauer seduces students."
I stepped back and gawked up at my tall classmate. "You think Professor Bauer tries to sleep with students? And you think you need to warn me about this?"
"It has nothing to do with you," Thomas yanked his hands out and held them up in surrender. "I just thought you should hear that rumor in case he starts paying you, you know, too much attention."
His eyes darted back and forth, and his nerves made sense. Thomas had been trying for a year and a half to ask me out, but he'd never gotten up the courage. We were friends, and I never encouraged him past that. Now he was warning me as a friend, but also as a jealous rival. Thomas couldn't stand the idea of Professor Bauer getting close to me when he wasn't.
"Thanks, Thomas," I patted his arm and walked away.
"I'll see you at the football game tonight?" he called.
I waved over my shoulder and kept walking. Our class was meeting at the football game to practice capturing quick details and to try the fast pace of sports journalism.
It was just my luck that when I arrived at the game, the only available seat was right next to Ford. I had intended to spend the whole game thinking of ways to insulate myself against gossip, but now with Ford cheering beside me, my good intentions were scattering.
"More important than the game is the crowd," Ford told me and the students near us. "The reader is one of the cheering fans, so it's important for them to know how the real fans reacted in the stands. Look around and take note of what you see."
"I see Professor Appleyard in face paint," I said.
Ford looked where I pointed and burst out laughing. "You've got a good eye for details, Dunkirk," he said.
It was casual, and none of the other students even noticed, but I felt his thigh bump against mine as if an explosion had rocked the entire set of bleachers. I had to find a way to put some serious distance between us.
After the game, Ford led us onto the field to interview the players. The players had been prepped by their coach, and it was a learning opportunity for them too. That didn't explain why the players jostled each other to answer my questions, but Ford put an end to that quickly.
"Why don't you talk to Brian Tailor? You met his father at the art opening, remember?" Ford asked me.
"The star running back?" Thomas asked. "I have questions for him."
Ford frowned, but before he could steer me in another direction, the quarterback appeared in front of me.
"Hi, I'm Adam," he said with a charming smile.
I smiled back, despite Ford's gunmetal glance. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Adam?"
"If you answer one for me first," the quarterback said. "Would you go out with me tomorrow night?"
His teammates cat-called, and the nearest ones landed punches on his shoulder, but Adam kept smiling at me with his bright-blue, hopeful eyes. He was perfect.
Ford hovered near by and a few of my journalism classmates whispered about the look on his face.
"I'd love to, Adam." I squashed the rumors, shut down my own inappropriate feelings for a professor, and accepted a date all in one sentence. "Now, how about that interview?"