14.
Leo
Life was suddenly great.
More than great, it was excellent, as though I were now seeing everything through rose-colored glasses.
Everything had taken on a nice sheen, and even the most mundane tasks were made tolerable now, because for the first time in a long time, life actually felt good. I knew I was walking around with a smile on my face. People noticed; on more than one occasion one of my colleagues would say something along the lines of how something good must’ve happened to me because I now seemed happy all the time.
I didn’t say anything to confirm or deny this, but I liked to think that sort of positive energy might be infectious.
Tonight, Jack and I were sitting at the Corkscrew, and he kept looking toward the door as though he was expecting Tessa to walk through at any moment.
“I really can’t believe that you’re going through with it,” Jack said. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and looked very stressed out, as though it would be his ass on the line if I were to get caught. “I really can’t. And that she just came in here like that the other day, and you two went and . . . I just can’t believe it.”
“Is this your way of fishing, trying to get me to give you details?”
“No!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to know! I don’t want to know anything about it, actually! But now that you’ve done it, it’s over with, right? You’re not going to keep doing it?”
I scoffed. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me since I left the magazine. I forgot what it was like to wake up in the morning and actually be excited about life. To look forward to something. There’s no way in hell I’m stopping that now.”
“You’re telling me you never looked forward to anything until this thing with Tessa? I don’t believe you, Leo. I’m calling bullshit on that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“Because . . . well . . . look at you! It’s not like there’d be any shortage of women that you could get involved with.”
I knew that, when it came to dating, Jack did not have as much luck as I did (though could it really be called luck?), and that there was a part of him that was envious about it. And I didn’t want to make it sound trite, that just hooking up with someone wasn’t exciting enough, because I’d been there, done that, hundreds of times over. What I’d never had, though, up until now, was a situation like I did with Tessa.
“It’s more than just sex, though,” I said.
Jack raised his eyebrows. “You mean you like her?”
“Of course I like her. The novelty of hate sex wears off really quick, so trust me when I say, if I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t still be doing this.”
“I’ve never even had hate sex.”
“It’s fun like, the first couple of times. But after that, it just seems to get more and more tedious.”
“Well, I guess it’s good that you like her, anyway. Though that’s the only good I can see in it.”
“Oh, there’s plenty more good.”
“I just don’t want to see things get completely messed up for you, Leo. I know it’s all fun and good right now, but who’s to say that’s going to last? Who’s to say that someone isn’t going to find out about this and try to make your life hell? Or what if you get fired?”
“There’s so many what-ifs,” I said. “I really don’t want to sit here thinking about all of them. And who’s going to find out? You’re the only one who knows. Well, and my brother, but he’s happy for me. No one else knows. And I intend to keep it that way.”
“You might be planning to keep it that way, but what about her? You don’t know who she’s told. You don’t know if she’s suddenly going to decide that this whole thing is wrong and she doesn’t want to be a part of it anymore. Or—what if she says you forced yourself on her? What if she tries to play that card? It’s one thing to be involved with someone when it’s consensual, but it’s a completely different thing to have someone try to say you sexually assaulted them.”
I sighed and patted his arm. I was touched, really, that he was this concerned, but it was primarily because Jack was incapable of living a life that included any risks. The thing was, there probably were plenty of instances where he would have enjoyed taking a risk, but the stress of it would overshadow anything positive. I wasn’t going to sit there and dwell on the what-ifs, on the possibility that we would get found out, that Tessa would decide to say that I tried to take advantage of her. Could it happen? Sure, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibilities, but right now, I was enjoying things too much to take anything else into account.
“She wants the good grade,” I said. “I don’t think she’s going to do anything like try to say I forced myself on her. And I know you said you didn’t want details, but, trust me—this is enjoyable for her, too. I’d even venture to say that she’s having just as much fun as I am.”
“Just because something’s fun, doesn’t mean it’s good,” Jack said.
The fun part wasn’t surprising—what I did find somewhat surprising though, was the fact that I actually really liked her. Not just because we were having amazing sex, but I liked being around her, which I wasn’t expecting. In fact, I’d been assuming that once the sex had started to get routine (which it almost always did) that I’d have to think of some excuse to try to get rid of her.
In fact, lately, I’d been thinking that I wanted to take her out to dinner. Or do something along those lines, something that wasn’t just sex (though that could certainly happen, too). I asked to speak with her after class, and I waited until the room was empty before telling her I wanted to take her out.
“Out?” she said, a surprised look on her face. “Out where?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Out to eat somewhere. I’m not too picky.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay. Well . . . that would be fine. Maybe it would be better to go somewhere that wasn’t in the city, though? I don’t want to risk someone seeing us together.”
“Sure. We can go wherever you want. Though if someone does see us, you can just tell them we were talking about an extra credit assignment for you.” I expected her to laugh, but she didn’t; she only gave me a tight smile and nodded.
“I guess,” she said, though she didn’t sound certain.
“We don’t have to,” I said. Was it possible she didn’t want to go? Had I been misreading this situation the whole time, and she really was only doing this with me because she wanted the grade? “I just thought it might be . . . nice.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it will.” She smiled again, though it still seemed forced. “I’m sorry, I’ve just got some other stuff on my mind, is all.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
She hesitated, her gaze going around the room as though she was expecting someone else to be there.
“No,” she said. “It’s fine. Yes, let’s go out somewhere. That sounds like a nice idea. You can pick; just let me know.”
“Okay, I will. Anything you’re totally against?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine. I’ve got to run, though. I have a ton of work I need to do.”
She rushed off, and though she had agreed to go out, it seemed as though she wasn’t as excited about it as I might’ve thought she would be. My phone started to buzz, and I looked at the screen. My brother. I usually didn’t take calls when I was at school, but since class was over and I had some time to kill before my next one, I answered.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I said when I picked up the phone. “It’s barely been a week since I last talked to you.” Usually, we’d go months.
“Hey, bro,” Aaron said. “Just got some downtime for the moment and was thinking about you—thought I’d give you a call and see how it was going.”
I laughed. “You can’t fool me. I know you’re calling because you want to hear about how it’s going with that student of mine.”
“Well . . . a little curious maybe. And you know, I don’t think I mentioned it before, but I’ve decided to take a break from hooking up for a little while.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just . . . something I’m doing.”
Which was probably code for he had another STD that the antibiotics hadn’t cleared up yet. “So you’re calling to live vicariously through me,” I said. “Ironic. Unfortunately, Aaron, I’m not the sort to kiss and tell, so maybe go log onto xvideos or something.”
“You’re not really doing her, are you? There is no student you propositioned.”
“Actually, there is. And I’m still not giving you details about it. I will tell you this much though—it’s going better than I would have thought.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me! But fine, fine, if you don’t want to share the details, I’m not going to force you. There was a reason for my call, actually.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. The team had this guy writing an article about us over here in Paris, at the new indoor skate park they just built, but he broke his arm last night, so he’s going to be out of commission for a little while. You want to fill in? They’ve got a couple other people they were thinking about asking, but I said I wanted to ask you first. You’d need to take about a couple weeks off; there’s an opening ceremony they want covered at the end of this week and then a couple promo events, too. It’s gonna be pretty off the hook, and I thought you might be interested. It’ll pay pretty well, too. How does that sound?”
Of course it sounded good, and there was a part of me that was ready to hop on a plane that very second, but more than that, I didn’t want to leave Tessa. I wouldn’t really be leaving her, though—It’s not even like we were in a relationship. We were . . . well, I wasn’t quite sure what we were, but call it a sixth sense or instinct, I had the strong feeling that if I were to take my brother up on this offer, it would mean the end of things between Tessa and me. Maybe in the time apart she’d realize what she was doing and wouldn’t want to do it anymore; maybe she’d meet someone else, maybe I would . . . I couldn’t ever remember feeling this sort of conflict over anyone before, and I wasn’t quite comfortable with the feeling, but it also wasn’t something I could just ignore.
“You know, I think I’m just gonna stay put,” I said.
“Really?” Aaron sounded surprised. “I thought you’d be psyched.”
“It sounds like a great opportunity,” I said. “It really does. And I definitely wouldn’t mind getting to chill with you, but . . . I really shouldn’t take that much time off of work.”
“You can bring your girl with you, if you want,” Aaron said.
“Maybe next time,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him that a week away with me might not be exactly the thing Tessa wanted to do, considering she seemed so unenthused about the prospect of going to dinner.
I put all of those thoughts out of my mind, though. That Saturday, I picked her up and
we left the city and drove up to Fairfax, where there’d be less chance of us running into anyone we knew. It seemed like there was something that she wanted to say, or that something was bothering her, but when I asked if everything was okay, she smiled and said that it was.
We went to this little Italian place and got glasses of red wine and ate bread and salad and lobster ravioli for me and linguini and clams for her, though she mostly just pushed it around her plate.
“Food okay?” I asked.
She nodded.
I gestured to my plate. “You want to try any of this?”
“No, I’m all set. It looks good, though.”
The conversation wasn’t flowing exactly as I’d imagined it. I took another sip of wine. Were we, perhaps, only compatible when we were fucking? Was it possible that she and I didn’t really have anything else to talk about?
“Is everything okay?” I asked as I put my wine glass down.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m not having a good time. I am. This is really nice, actually.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it, but it seems like something’s been bothering you all night,” I said. “What’s up? Is this too much? Does it feel like too much of…I don’t know, like a relationship?” It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe she would want to just keep things physical. It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe she didn’t even like me, maybe hanging out with me was excruciating. It didn’t seem that way, but I could tell there was something on her mind. “If you’d rather just keep things strictly physical, that’s fine,” I said, though I found myself hoping she’d say she didn’t want to do that.
“It’s not that,” she said. “That has nothing to do with it, actually. I really like getting to spend time with you—please don’t think that I’m not enjoying this.”
I smiled. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I’m having a good time. I promise you, it’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
She hesitated, and in that silence I tried to figure out what it was she was going to say. She was really a lesbian? She had an STD? She had a boyfriend? As it turned out, none of that. “I got this letter,” she said. “And at first I thought it was from you. You know how you had slipped that note into my paper that one day? I thought it was like that, except you’d sent it to my apartment this time.”
“No, it wasn’t me. Who was it from?”
“I don’t know. There was no signature.”
“Well, what did they want?”
“They wanted me to write a paper. They gave me the topic and everything.”
I didn’t say anything right away; I was waiting for the grin to break out on her face and her to tell me she was joking. But that didn’t happen; she just continued to push the pasta around on her plate. “Wait—what? You got a random anonymous letter from someone who wanted you to write a paper?”
“Yes. And I’m going to do it. There was an email address to send it to. They gave me a week.”
“Why would you do that? I would’ve told them to go fuck themselves. Just because you get some random letter in the mail from someone who—”
“The letter wasn’t so random. They sent it because they knew what was going on between us. And they said that the only way to ensure it didn’t get out was if I wrote the paper.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
She shook her head. “I wish I was.”
I didn’t say anything for a second, letting what she’d just said fully sink in. So someone did know about this, after all. And they were now trying to blackmail Tessa by having her write their papers?
“Fuck that,” I said. “No fucking way you’re going to write that paper. Just because someone’s threatening you. No way.”
“I knew you were going to say that. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you about this, but Lindsey told me I should.”
“Lindsey.” I nodded. “So you’ve told Lindsey what’s been going on.”
“Of course I did! She’s my best friend. But she’s the only one that I’ve said anything to.” Tessa frowned. “Don’t try to blame this on me! Who have you told?”
“No one,” I said. “Well, okay. I told my friend. And my brother. But I know for an absolute fucking fact that neither of them said anything.”
“I don’t know then,” Tessa said. “I don’t know who might have found out—maybe someone saw us together.”
“I don’t see why anyone would give a shit about that. People should mind their own business.”
“I know, but that’s the only thing I can think of. And I’m going to write the paper because there’s no way I can let word of this get out, okay? I just can’t. I don’t think that you want to let it get out, either.”
“But you were planning on not telling me?”
“I was considering it.”
“I’m glad you did. Tell me if you get any more of these letters, though. Write them this one paper if you feel you must, but don’t write any more papers. You’re just playing into their hand.”
Her eyes widened. “I sure as hell am going to write another paper if that’s what they want.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Because if word gets out about this, we could both be kicked out of the school. If I get expelled, I’m even more screwed than I was before. And you don’t want people to find out about us, do you?”
“I mean, it’s not my first choice, but fuck that, Tessa, that’s total bullshit if someone is essentially trying to blackmail you. No fucking way.”
“But there’s nothing you can do about it!” she said, and I could hear the anxiety in her voice. She took a deep breath. “What are you going to do about it?” she asked, her voice a little calmer.
What was I going to do about it? Well, fuck. I didn’t know. But this wasn’t one of those situations where you could just go along with what they wanted. That would be letting them win. Hell no.
“We’re going to figure something out,” I said. “I’m not exactly sure what.”
“That’s because I’ve just got to write the paper. And I mean, I guess so far as things go, it’s not the worst thing in the world. I can do it. It’s not like I haven’t written papers before.”
“Okay,” I said, “and then what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’ll be it? Maybe they just need this paper, and once they have it, they’ll stop.”
“And are you saying that we should we stop doing this? Pretend the whole thing never even happened?”
“I thought about that, too,” she said. “And there is a part of me that thinks we should just stop. I knew it was wrong to begin with, and I chose to go ahead and do it anyway. And now someone’s found out, which is the last thing we wanted to have happen.” She paused and looked down at her hands.
Great. I tried not to let any emotion overtake my face; if she wanted to end things, I’d agree, even though I really didn’t want to.
“But . . .” She looked up, and there was a tiny smile curling the corners of her mouth. “They already know, whoever it is. Stopping now isn’t going to change that. I assume they must have some sort of proof, otherwise they wouldn’t be so forward about it. And I’ve actually been enjoying this more than I can remember enjoying anything.” She blushed. “I know it started as one thing, but it’s turned into something else; it’s turned into the one good thing I seem to have going for me at the moment, and I really can’t bear the idea of having to put a stop to it right now.”
I felt a smile spread across my face, even though the situation wasn’t that funny. I was pissed as hell that someone was trying to fuck with her like this, but I was relieved to hear her say that she wanted to keep going with it.
“I’m happy to hear you say that,” I said.
15.
Tessa
I knew Leo didn’t want me to write the paper, but I had to. Five pages wasn’t that much, and though I didn’t know a lot about Hurricane Katrina, it was easy enough to research it online and put together something that seemed like it would get a good grade.
I finished the paper late Saturday morning, and after I emailed it to the anonymous address, I decided to go down to my parents’. My father was out when I got there, but my mother was at the dining room table, trying to work on one of her scrapbooks, another of her acquired hobbies that she had been really into for a while.
“I’m determined to finish one of these scrapbooks,” she said, sitting amidst photos and stickers and other paper accoutrements. “This one I’m working on is for you, actually.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said.
“But I want to. Look at all these pictures! If nothing else, it’s a nice trip down memory lane. I had another nice conversation with Marjorie last night, though, and she was telling me about the nice book she’s putting together for Brynn, and she’s going to give it to her when she graduates. I think I might be able to have this completed by the time you graduate.”
“Mom, you don’t have to—”
“You know what else Marjorie told me? She happened to mentioned that when Brynn was one, Marjorie and Jeff and Brynn’s brother and cousins and aunts and uncles—well, basically the whole extended family, you get the picture—they all wrote down something for Brynn. What they hoped for her, how happy they were that she was part of the family, something like that. No one read what they wrote, though; Marjorie just put it in this time capsule thing and Jeff buried it in their backyard. Under that lovely magnolia tree of theirs. Anyway, they dug it up when Brynn was 16, and she got to read all those lovely thoughts and sentiments that people had written to her back when she was just a baby. Isn’t that such a wonderful thing?”
“Uh, yeah, Mom, that’s great.”
“And it just got me thinking that your father and I had never done anything even close to that for you.”
“Don’t feel bad, Mom. It’s nice and everything, but it’s not like my life is lacking or anything because you didn’t.”
“I just . . . I just can’t help but wonder if your father and I somehow haven’t done enough for you. If that’s why you’ve been having difficulty in school lately. It’s been on my mind so much, Tessa, since you told us.”
“Really?” I said, feeling a pang of guilt. If she ever found out about Leo and me, it would probably completely devastate her. She would take it personally, like she had somehow failed me. “You guys have actually done way more for me than most parents do for their kids. Which I really appreciate, and I want you guys to know that. And not having some time capsule for me to open up is totally fine. We don’t have to do the same exact things that Brynn’s family does.” I was pretty certain, after all, that Brynn wasn’t sleeping with a professor.
“I know, I just feel it’s more symbolic, really,” my mother said. “I’m not saying I think we should be doing the same exact things, but . . . it just got me thinking and wondering if maybe there was something else that we could have been doing.”
I shook my head. “No, Mom,” I said. “Anyway, I didn’t come down here to talk about Brynn and her family traditions.” I sat down at the table next to her. “Why don’t you show me some of these scrapbook pictures you have?”
I sat down next to her, and she handed me a stack of photos that she’d had printed. I flipped through them—this batch seemed to be from my high school days, which now seemed like a distant memory. High school had been easy for me; even though I’d taken a full load of AP courses, it had never been that challenging. I’d had to put forth effort, sure, but it was enjoyable, never stressful. I looked at the pictures of myself, the innocent, optimistic, hopeful look on my face. I didn’t really feel like that same girl now; I certainly wasn’t innocent.
“Look at this one,” my mother said, handing me one from my graduation. “We were so proud of you that day. We’re still so proud of you. I want to get the same shot of the three of us when you graduate from college. And then I’ll put them together, side by side, right here on this page.”
“That’s great, Mom,” I said, handing the picture back to her.
I left later that afternoon, feeling a huge amount of guilt, and knowing that I could never let my parents find out about Leo and me.
It had been over a week since I’d emailed the paper about Hurricane Katrina, and I hadn’t gotten any more correspondence, so I was starting to wonder if it had just been a one-time thing.
I hoped so. I found myself looking at the people I came across at school, trying to figure out who it was that knew what was going on. No one’s faces gave me any clues. I was sitting in the quad, watching people walk by. After a few more minutes, I gathered my stuff and got up. I’d probably never know who sent the letter, but as long as it was over with, I guess I didn’t really care that much.
I walked into the humanities building and heard someone say my name.
“Hey, Tessa.”
It was Nick, sitting with Seth and a couple other guys from the basketball team in the lobby
“Nick. Hi,” I said. The other guys smiled and then went back to their conversation. Nick, however, kept his eyes on me.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. “I really haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you that day in that . . . outfit.” I glanced quickly at Seth and the other guys to see if they were hearing this, but they seemed to be wrapped up in whatever they were talking about, something about the upcoming game they had. “I think you should do your laundry less often if it means you’ll wear more outfits like that.” He gave me that grin of his that could make a girl weak in the knees, that same grin that had made butterflies swirl in my stomach when I first met him. “You want to hang out, later?”
“Oh, um . . .” I paused. “I don’t know. I’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“Aw, we’re all busy. I bet you could find some time for me.”
Funny how just a short time ago those were just the words that I wanted to hear, and that when I tried to ask him if he wanted to hang out, he told me that he didn’t want things to get too serious between us.
Just then I saw Leo walking by, and I think he would have walked right by us, but he looked over at the last second and saw me. Then he saw who I was talking to. It seemed that he was about to continue on, but then he came over.
“Hey, Leo,” Nick said, holding his hands up. “I know you’re coming over here to give me a hard time about that last assignment, but I’ve got it in my backpack, and I’m going to hand it in today!”
Leo didn’t look at me, but stood about half a foot away. “You must be psychic, Nick,” he said. “Because that’s exactly why I was coming over here. And I’m so pleased to hear you’ve got the assignment.”
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, but he refused to even glance my direction. But despite the fact that we weren’t touching, it was like I could feel his presence all the same.
“Speaking of assignments,” Leo said, looking at me now, “Tessa, I’d like to see you about that assignment you turned in last week, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I’ve got a class to get to right now,” I said.
“Okay. Why don’t you stop by my office after that, then.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“You boys behave yourselves,” Leo said, and then he strode off. I looked back at Nick, and wondered if he was able to sense that anything was going on between Leo and me. He raised an eyebrow.
“So, what do you say? Maybe we can get together this weekend or something?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, and I walked off before he could say anything else, though I could hear the other guys giving him a hard time. It had probably pissed him off, me making that comment, but I didn’t care. He deserved it, as far as I was concerned, and at least now he wouldn’t keep bothering me.
After my moral philosophy class was over, I walked across campus to Leo’s office. The door was slightly ajar, but I knocked anyway. He appeared a second later and looked both ways down the hallway, making sure it was empty, and then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the office.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to do anything here,” I said breathlessly as he pushed the door shut. He turned the lock in the doorknob.
“I believe what I said was,” he said, as his hands roamed my body, “that having Carla walk in on us was not okay. She’s out today, and there’s a lock on the door, and I can’t go another second without being able to touch you.”
“I thought . . . I thought you wanted to talk about some assignment, too—”
“What assignment?” he said, and I realized that he was right; he hadn’t assigned us anything except for the articles we were supposed to be working on for the paper.
We went over to the desk and he moved his laptop and then lay me down on top of the papers and folders. He pulled my shoes off, then my leggings and underwear, and then he pushed my thighs apart and buried his face between my legs, and instantly my whole body was buzzing.
I knew the door was locked, but I didn’t know how soundproof these walls were, so I tried to keep quiet, which was increasingly difficult. It seemed he knew every spot to touch, just how much pressure to apply, and when to back off. He massaged my clit with his tongue, sliding one finger, then another, into me, and swirling them around. I bit down so hard on my lip that I tasted blood, but the pain just seemed to heighten the pleasure. I was vaguely aware that I could hear people walking by outside the office; a class must have just let out. Leo lifted his head and reached up with his other hand that wasn’t inside of me and slid his fingers up my shirt, underneath my bra. I lifted my head and gasped as he squeezed first one breast, then the other, working his fingers in and out of me. People were still walking by; all that was separating us was that wall right there. This fact seemed to excite Leo, too; he was straightening up, pulling his pants down, his cock springing out. I spread my legs even wider, feeling the paper crinkle underneath me as he pushed his cock into me. He held himself up with one hand on the desk, the other squeezing my nipples. Each time he pushed into me, he squeezed harder, accentuating the pleasure I felt with each of his thrusts. I had my lips pressed together as tightly as I could, but little whimpers were still leaking out; there was nothing I could do to stop them.
Leo was having a hard time keeping quiet, too. The muscles in his neck strained, his face was twisted into a grimace, and he was taking such deep breaths that the exhales turned into growls. I gripped the edge of the desk as he fucked me harder, my tailbone pressing into the hard surface. My brain felt as though it were about to short circuit, and I arched my back and pressed right up against him. I must have been making louder sounds than I thought because Leo pressed his hand over my mouth as we both came, which muffled the sounds coming out of my mouth, but didn’t stop them. As the feeling peaked, I bit into his palm, enough to make him wince but not enough to make him pull his hand back. The papers slid under me as he slowly eased himself out.
“Is Nick giving you a hard time?” Leo asked as we pulled our pants back on.
“No,” I said. “He was suddenly interested in hanging out again, but I told him that I wasn’t interested.”
Leo nodded. “He’s in one of my classes. He certainly has no shortage of ladies.”
“That certainly doesn’t surprise me.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Bother me? No. Maybe in the past it might’ve, but not anymore.”
“How long were you two together?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t long. Nothing serious. Well, he didn’t want it to be serious, which is why it ended. But I’m glad it did.” I gave Leo a closer look. “I’m not still interested in him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” It occurred to me that maybe he was jealous, though he didn’t really seem like the jealous type. But he just nodded and seemed satisfied with my answer.
“You just let me know if he bothers you anymore,” he said.
I smiled and gave him a kiss. “I will.”
Later, as I walked to my apartment, my thighs ached; I felt like I was walking bowlegged. But it was a good feeling, and it was hard to keep the smile off of my face. I had a lot of homework that I needed to do tonight, but I felt so good about everything that it didn’t matter. All I needed to do was replay that afternoon in my mind—I didn’t think it was possible to feel so good with someone.
I let myself into the building and checked the mail. I knew there was another letter from the person, even before I turned the envelope over to see the address. Typed, in the same font. I stood there in the lobby and opened it.
Good job on that first paper. Glad that you are up for the challenge. For your next
assignment, you’re going to write an essay on the importance of civic engagement
within a democratic society. Eight to ten pages for this one. MLA citation. Due in
10 days. Your activities with Leo Rochman will remain secret so long as you continue
to turn in quality work. If you choose to ignore this letter, or write a paper that
does not earn at least a B+, we WILL go forward with the information we have on
you two, and the fallout will not be pretty.
I stuffed the letter into my purse and took the stairs up to my apartment, burning with both frustration and anger. I wanted to just rip the fucking thing up. But I knew the danger in that, and that though it might momentarily make me feel good, the consequences of not writing the paper would be far worse.
The next day, my mother called and said that she was in the city and wondered if she could take me out to lunch. I had a long break in between my classes that day, and since I didn’t have feature writing and knew I probably wouldn’t be having any sort of rendezvous with Leo, I told her I would meet with her. She wanted to go to one of her favorite little cafes, which wasn’t too far from the school.
They had us sit at one of the tables on the outdoor patio, which my mother liked because people-watching was one of her favorite things.
“So, things are still going well?” she asked. “With school and everything? We didn’t really talk that much about it that day you stopped by.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve been working pretty hard, actually, and I think that you’ll be able to see that when I get my next grades.”
My mother beamed. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear it. I knew you wouldn’t let things get too out of control. That’s what I was trying to tell your father. He was going on about you possibly getting started down the wrong path or some nonsense like that, but I told him you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Of course! I know you’ve got a lot going on, that you must feel like there’s a lot of pressure. It can be hard dealing with that sometimes.”
I nodded. “You’re right—it can be. He did call me the other night, though.”
“Did he?”
“Yes. Basically to say that he was glad I was getting my studies back on track and he knew I was a good kid.”
“Well, good, I’m glad he called. It’s not easy for him, you know.”
“What—talking on the phone?”
“That, and admitting he was wrong.”
“He didn’t actually admit he was wrong.”
“I guess I don’t mean wrong, so much as . . . overly strict sometimes. He can come across a little too harshly. I think he felt that way the day you stopped by. And I want you to know that we don’t expect you to be perfect. I know that’s not realistic. But what we do want is what’s best for you, and sometimes that means being strict. Our hope is that you’ll realize we’re not doing this to make your life difficult, or to try to give you a hard time, but because we want what’s best for you.”
“I know, Mom.”
Our waitress came over to take our order, and I was glad for the interruption because I wanted to change the subject. I kept thinking about that letter I got and the fact that I’d need to somehow fit that in on top of all the other schoolwork I had.
“So,” my mother said, after our waitress left, “is there anything else you want to talk about?” she asked. “Any other good news you want to share? Have you been seeing anyone?”
I stared at her. “Seeing anyone? Why do you think I’d be seeing someone?”
“I don’t think that; I was just curious since you’d been seeing that other person and had never mentioned it. It’s totally fine if you’re not seeing someone, but I wanted to reiterate to you that if you were, I’d hope you’d share that with me. Not all the details or anything, but believe it or not, I still remember what it was like to be your age and how exciting it was to go out on a first date.”
“Right, but the whole reason my grades slipped in the first place was because I was seeing someone.”
“That’s true,” my mother said. “Well, that’s very responsible of you—not to get involved with someone until you’ve got your grades back under control. I’m going to tell your father we had this very conversation, and that you’re committed to getting your grades back on track. I think he’ll be pleased.”
How did we keep coming back to this? It seemed unavoidable. I was actually glad when my mother started talking about Marjorie and Brynn, who had just found out she’d been awarded some grant to go study in Ecuador.
After our food came out, I mostly listened and ate as my mother talked about how nervous Marjorie was to be letting Brynn travel to a new country and how she was considering going with her, though that wouldn’t really be practical. I could tell my mother was sort of fishing, wondering if I had any big project that I was working on that she could brag to Marjorie about.
When we were finished eating, our waitress came and took our plates, and asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu.
My mother looked at me. I shook my head. “I think we’re all set for dessert,” my mother said.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t need to be indulging in any extra sweets.”
The waitress nodded and said that she’d be right back with the check.
“Take your time,” my mother said, taking a sip of her wine. “Just enjoying a lovely day out with my daughter. What are you doing after this? Should we go to a museum? Do a little shopping?”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said. “I’ve got a ton of work I need to be doing.”
“There is a new exhibit I’ve been wanting to see at the MoMA . . .” Her voice trailed off, her eyes going past me, fixing on something else. I turned to see what she was looking at, and there he was.
Leo.
Walking down the sidewalk, wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.
He caught my eye, and for a second, I thought he was going to keep walking. I felt a thrill at just having seen him out like this, but that thrill suddenly became tinged with anxiety when he veered in our direction.
“Oh, hi,” I said as he approached.
My mother had a flustered look on her face, and looked to me, then him, then back to me.
“Hi there, Tessa,” he said.
“Mom, this is one of my teachers; this is Professor Rochman,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t blushing too much.
My mother smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” she said. She held out her hand and they shook. “Would you like to join us?”
“Oh no, I don’t want to infringe on mother-daughter time.”
“It’s not infringing at all! Please—sit! It would be so great to get to chat with one of Tessa’s professors. So long as it’s not crossing any boundaries—I know how strict some schools are about student-teacher interaction, but there’s nothing going on here that shouldn’t be!” My mother giggled, and I realized that she was trying to flirt a little with Leo. And I could tell by the look on her face that she was very taken with him, that she was surprised he was so good-looking.
“Maybe another time,” I said, right as Leo said, “Sure, why not?”
He sat down next to me, his knee brushing against mine under the table.
“So, what class do you teach?” my mother asked, her eyes wide and eager.
“I teach Tessa’s feature writing class.”
“Oh, that’s excellent,” my mother said. “I was so excited when Tessa told me she was going to take some journalism courses. I considered majoring in journalism when I was in college.”
“You did?” I said. She had never mentioned that.
She ignored me. “But then I found out I was pregnant with Tessa, so I dropped out, with the full intention of returning to finish my degree once she was in school. But . . . I never got around to it.”
Leo smiled. “It’s never too late.”
My mother laughed, loudly, and patted his forearm. “Oh, would you listen to him!” she said. “That’s kind of you. But I think I’m probably past my prime when it comes to going out and finding a story.”
“Never too old for that sort of thing,” Leo said. His knee rubbed against mine.
“So how long have you been teaching for?” my mother asked.
“This is my second year. Teaching was not what I originally planned to do. Though I must say,” I could feel his eyes on me, “it’s worked out better than I thought. A rather pleasant surprise, you might say.”
“I bet it must be so rewarding.”
“Oh, it is. In ways you might not expect.”
“That’s something I also thought about. I always thought it would be such a great way to give back—being a teacher. Getting to influence and affect the way that young people see the world. Inspiring them. It must be so gratifying.”
He nodded, and then gave me a pointed look. “You could say that again.”
I had to take a sip of my water to keep from laughing, and hopefully to hide the fact that I was also blushing. Not that I should have been worried about that though, because it would seem that my mother only had eyes for him.
He pushed back from the chair. “I better get going,” he said. “Not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed getting to spend some time with the two of you. Quite unexpected!”
My mother beamed. “It was! But lovely nonetheless. So great to have finally had the chance to meet you. Maybe we’ll be able to do this again sometime.”
“I would like that,” Leo said. He smiled once more at my mother, then looked at me, still with the smile on his face, a laugh in his eyes. I had to bite down on my own lip to keep from laughing. This whole situation was excruciating. In a good way, but still excruciating. “I’ll see you in class, Tessa,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Bye.”
We both watched him walk off.
“He was so nice!” Mom said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention him before, though.”
“That’s probably because I haven’t.”
“Well, that was really quite kind of him to join us. He’s so . . .” She leaned forward. “Handsome. I just wasn’t expecting a teacher of yours to be handsome like that. Don’t tell your father!”
“Um, don’t worry, I definitely won’t.”
“Not that it would matter,” she said.
“What?”
She waved me off. “Oh, nothing.” But then she rubbed her palms together, looked the direction that Leo had walked off into, and then leaned toward me. “You know, my relationship with your father is still very strong, even after all these years.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, not entirely following why it was she was telling me this. “I wasn’t doubting that.”
“I know. But . . . when you’re married to someone for as long as your father and I have been together, the relationship can be strong, as strong as it’s ever been, but sometimes there are certain things that . . . that fall to the wayside, I guess.”
I nodded, still not sure what she was getting at. Did she think I was suddenly doubting the validity of their relationship just because she thought that Leo was attractive?
“I might as well tell you. Without getting into all the details, of course. Your father’s not so interested in the physical aspect of our marriage anymore,” my mother said.
“Oh,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. While I had always thought my mother and I had a good relationship, discussing our sex lives wasn’t something that we had done before. And I wasn’t sure that I wanted to start right now.
But my mother didn’t seem to care about that; she kept right on talking. “And I’ve made my peace with that, I have. We’re not exactly spring chickens anymore. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have . . . feelings, sometimes. Seeing a man as handsome as Leo reminds me of that.”
I tried to keep myself from squirming in my seat. I didn’t want to come across as a prude, but talking about my parents’ sex life—or lack thereof—was not the conversation I wanted to be having right now.
“You’re allowed to think other men are attractive,” I said. “Even if your marriage is the best ever, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with appreciating someone’s good looks.”
“Well, thank you,” she said. “I appreciate you saying that. I agree, of course—sometimes it’s just a matter of hearing it from someone else. And that teacher of yours definitely is a looker!”
She giggled conspiratorially, and I forced myself to laugh along with her. The fact that my mother had just spent the last half an hour flirting with the very professor I happened to be sleeping with seemed as unlikely as diamonds suddenly raining down from the sky—except that it had just happened.
“Okay, okay,” I said, “you’re starting to sound like a love-struck teenager.”
She had that shit-eating grin on her face she couldn’t have gotten rid of if she wanted to. She really did look like a teenage girl that had just encountered one of her idols. I suppose it shouldn’t have really surprised me that Leo could have that effect on pretty much anyone.
“It sure must be hard to concentrate in class,” she said, more to herself.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing, nothing. And you know what? Where is our waitress? I think I changed my mind; I’d like to order dessert after all.”