“How do you know all that?” he asked, his words soft and full of so much emotion that each syllable felt like a stabbing pain behind my breastbone.
“Things my mom has told me during her fits of anger, things my father has told me, and things I put together myself while eavesdropping on their fights. Things I’ve figured out on my own from growing up and watching them.”
“Well, I have a few things I want to say. And I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” He waited for my hesitant nod before continuing. “Your dad’s first mistake wasn’t that he didn’t insist on an abortion. That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re worth more than that, Aubrey. You hear me? You are an incredibly smart person, with a very bright future ahead of you, but only if you stop listening to the trash you’ve been fed. His first mistake was not getting out of that situation sooner, and more importantly, not getting you out of it, as well. And you really have to stop listening to your mother. Do what you have to until you graduate, and then get the hell out. And never look back. If she ever touches you again, and I don’t care if it’s by her hand or a door, you let me know. You let someone know. Anyone. You’re better than this, Aubrey. You deserve so much more. You are not unlovable. I’ve seen you for all of four hours total since I first met you, and a quarter of that time was spent with you yelling at half your class”—a smile spread across his face in jest—“yet I’ve seen enough to know this about you.”
The tears I’d held onto since walking into his classroom slipped past my lids and trailed down my face, leaving warm, salty tracks on my cheeks. I didn’t even have enough strength to stop them or wipe them away. All I could do was stare into his icy-blue eyes and believe him. My God, I actually believed him.
“Do you hear me, Aubrey? Do you understand me?”
I nodded, my words catching in my throat.
“You come to me next time.” He scribbled something on a sticky note and then slapped it on the front of his desk, right in front of me. “Call me if she ever does anything again. I don’t care what time it is.”
“I’m pretty sure handing your phone number out to female students is frowned upon. This may be your first year teaching, but I’d assume that’s common knowledge.” I tried to joke with him, tried to lighten the heavy situation with my own ironic humor.
He shrugged with a sly grin on his lips, the tension slowly fading away. “Yeah, I’m sure it is. But I don’t care. I won’t allow any of my students, male or female, to live in an abusive home and not have anyone to turn to.”
I folded the small yellow paper and curled it into my fist. “Am I your new Danny? Your new project? Is that what this is? I think you have a hero complex. You just want to save the poor, defenseless teenager.”
“Call it whatever you want, just as long as you have someone in your corner. That’s all I care about. Whether it’s me, or a girl in your gym class, I don’t care. You don’t deserve to live like this, Aubrey. And the faster you figure that out, the better your life will be.” He finally unwrapped his sandwich. “Now eat,” he said with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes.
I had wanted someone to talk to for so long, but I had no idea that it would’ve come in the form of a sexy, demanding history teacher. How ironic.
I was the girl he couldn’t protect.
And he was the guy I couldn’t touch.
“You said my call made things worse… What does that mean?”
I shrugged, contemplating how open I wanted to be with him. I had already told him things I’d never told anyone. This new openness felt strange, but good, too, like I had someone in my corner, just this once. “Just a lot of yelling, fighting. Well, not really fighting, because that would mean it went back and forth. But it didn’t. I sat there and took it. I didn’t get physically hurt, if that’s what you’re asking. She was pissed and made it known. That’s all you really need to know.” I expressed my contentment silently as I turned my eyes to the side to peer at him, letting him understand that I was okay.
“So,” he said after taking a bite of his own sandwich, “are you going to tell me what happened to your face now? The truth?”
The corners of my mouth curved upward as I picked out the onions and shook my head. “No. You don’t need to hear what she does to me. You already know the truth. You don’t need to hear the fucked-up story of it all.”
He laughed and it caught my attention, making me look his way. “Aubrey, I understand you’re a teenager, and teenagers like to cuss. In times like this, when it’s just you and me, you’re allowed as long as it’s not directed at me, but please refrain from it during class.” His grin remained, growing larger and larger as he spoke. “I know I’m young, but I can’t allow my students to talk like that. It’ll give me a bad reputation.”
“How young are you?” I asked, and then prayed that he wouldn’t deem that inappropriate. The question had popped into my mind and crept onto my tongue before I could stop it.
He placed the sandwich on the opened wrapper in front of him and cleared his throat. “Twenty-four.”
“Soon to be twenty-five? Or did you recently have a birthday?”
His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but fought against it. “I just turned twenty-four a couple weeks ago.”
I hummed to myself and nodded. “That’s cool. My birthday is next month.”
The overeager grin won and broke free across his face, showing off his straight set of pearly white teeth and the dimple on one side. Yet he kept his eyes down and didn’t say a word. My stomach dipped at the thought that he’d been thinking the same thing as I was.
Only one more year.
The rest of the week went by with ease, both at school and at home. Mr. Taylor’s class went back to normal, and it was as if no one remembered the outburst I’d had on Thursday. And as for my teacher, he greeted me in the morning like he had every morning before, and taught from his podium like usual. Like I said, back to normal—except for the quick exchanging of glances from across the room. The ones where we’d catch each other’s eye, and the split second of silence that followed burned like a spark of electricity igniting in my lower belly.
He’d ended class a few minutes early and headed back to his desk. The way his eyes kept lifting to where I sat, yet not quite making contact with mine, left me to believe he’d wanted to speak to me after class. But that had been interrupted by Rebecca when she lingered at his side with her hip pressed against the edge of his desk, her jean skirt riding up her thigh.
“Is this your girlfriend? Maybe your wife?” Her question caught my attention, causing me to snap my head up. Her fingers lightly touched a picture frame while her eyes remained glued to Mr. Taylor’s face.
I watched it all closely, from his expression to the inappropriate smirk she wore. But what warmed me the most was when he moved the framed picture out of her reach and said, “She’s someone I care a lot about, and that’s all you need to know.” His confession would’ve caused my blood to run cold, thinking of him with someone, but for some reason, his eyes met mine, calming me before I could get upset. Yet it did cause me to question my initial reaction. As if I had some claim to him. The thought of him with someone else made knots form in my stomach and my head spin.