“Your mom has no say so in what you do for the rest of your life. She’s not paying for your school, so if you don’t follow in her footsteps, what’s she going to do about it? And what is it that you want to do?”
I shoved another bite of cake in my mouth to give me time to answer. “She can’t do anything, and she knows it. It’s why I’ve made no effort to prepare for a law degree, which is just another reason for her to hate me. But I’m fearful of what to do, because I’ve always wanted to design furniture. I know, it sounds silly, but every time I look at a desk or coffee table, I can’t help but picture how I would’ve made it differently. I come up with all kinds of diverse styles of beds, and wish I could just make my own.”
“That’s not silly, Bree. And why does that scare you?”
“Who wants to design furniture? I’ve never heard one person say, ‘I want to design furniture when I grow up.’”
“Lots of people. You’d be surprised. I mean, realistically, there has to be people that say that, otherwise we’d have no furniture. But it wouldn’t matter if no one wanted to do it. The only thing that counts is that you want to. You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people will think and just go for it.”
I licked my lips and watched his mouth as he swallowed, the thought of kissing him crossing my mind for like the millionth time.
March came and brought with it warmer weather. Weekends were spent outside amongst the trees. Sometimes we ate lunch on a blanket, other times we just sat and talked. Things with Axel were so easy. I felt comfortable telling him anything, and it seemed as though the feeling was mutual. He told me all about his parents and sister, and stories of when they were younger. He had the best family, and it made me yearn to have that for myself someday. It also made me realize how drastically different my childhood had been compared to his.
I woke up every morning to a text message, letting me know that I’d been his first thought of the day. After that initial lunch date in the woods, I’d stopped worrying about us and the nonexistent, two-week curse. He made sure I knew that we were okay. Better than okay. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could just feel it being around him. The electricity sparked when we were near one another. Even apart, the current continued to flicker in my chest, lighting up my world brighter than it’d ever been before. It burned so bright that, sometimes, we found it difficult to keep our hands to ourselves. But we’d made a pact with one another, and we wanted to take it seriously, so we stuck to the rules, never going beyond holding hands.
April brought rain showers, threatening our personal time together. Since we’d decided I wouldn’t go inside his house, and we were unable to be together in public, that meant we saw less of each other. But I guess that worked out for the best, because we both seemed to struggle with our attraction and feared our relationship had begun to move in the wrong direction. We ended up talking one day about it over the phone.
“Do you ever wonder if we would be together had we met under different circumstances?” I’d asked, becoming slightly insecure.
“I’d like to think so.”
“So think about it. How much of this between us do you think is enhanced due to the forbidden aspect?”
“Bree,” he’d said on a sigh, warming me instantly because I knew his next words would be the truth. “I’m not the kind of person that likes forbidden things. They freak me out, to be honest. Just the fear of getting caught probably takes ten years off my life. I can’t speak for you, but for me, being with you has nothing to do with that.”
“Same here. But I’ve been looking up other stories about teachers dating their students, and almost none of them work out. Professionals say it’s because the allure of it goes away once the relationship is no longer considered taboo. They also say that most of the time, it’s a male teacher and female student, and that makes him a pedophile.”
“Do you think I’m a pedophile, Aubrey?” I could tell by the way he’d asked it, that I’d somehow offended him.
“No. That’s not what I meant. I was just telling you what they say.”
“I know what they say. And that shit bothers me.” His words had come out in a growl, and I knew immediately that I’d pissed him off. “There are real sick people in this world, monsters that prey on young kids. And the more society points their finger at guys like me, accusing them of doing the same thing as those disgusting perverts, it lessens the real situation. I don’t find young girls attractive. I don’t look at teenagers and have perverse thoughts. Falling for one girl, who just happens to be a year away from being eighteen, doesn’t make me a pervert. It doesn’t make me a pedophile. But that won’t stop society from labeling me as such.”
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I wasn’t accusing you of that.”
“I know.” With his sigh, I could practically feel him relaxing. “I just hate how society is making the real issues fuzzy. It’s not just about this, it’s about a lot of things. There are real pedophiles out there, ones that prey on the young and weak. There are true racists out there that do despicable things to people, say hateful words, and go out of their way to hurt others. And as a society, we’re not doing the real victims of racism any good by throwing that word out all the time. We’re not doing anyone any good by ignoring the real issues and falsely accusing people of things.”
I wasn’t able to hold back my laugh, regardless of how heavy our conversation had turned. “You should’ve gone into politics, Axel. The world needs you.”
“Maybe, but I only need you.”
His words made me grin and a fiery heat ignited in my cheeks. “Can I be honest with you, without you taking offense or getting upset? I hate to talk about this over the phone, but we haven’t been able to see each other much, and I feel like I need to get this out.”
He’d grown silent, but then promised—reluctantly—to stay calm.
“I’ve told you this before, but I don’t think you took me seriously. You have this undeniable need to care for people. You helped your friend when you were younger, you help your family any way you can…you’re a freaking teacher for heaven’s sake. You have a really big heart, and you care about everything and everyone. But, if I’m being honest, as much as I love that about you, it scares the crap out of me. It makes me think that you’re drawn to me because you want to protect me. You’ve said it like a million times—how you want to save me and protect me from my mom.”
“I wish I could answer that for you, Bree. But right now, I don’t think I can. I guess I’ve never thought about it like that before. You’re right, though…I want to keep you safe. I want to show you just how wrong your mother is about you. I want to unleash the fierce animal inside of you, all while holding you close out of fear of you getting hurt. But I also see you for who you are, and that’s what draws me to you.”
“It just makes me wonder if we’d be together had it all been different. Like…if we’d met in the future. If I’d graduated high school and left my mom, found my own inner strength, and never needed you to drive me home when I was too sick to walk, or make me soup and buy me medicine. If I hadn’t needed you to come to my aid, would we be together?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“But you don’t believe so,” I’d said, translating his words for him.
“I don’t know, Bree. If I saw you standing on the street, I’d notice you. If we sat across from each other at a bar, and you looked my way, you’d catch my attention. If we were in line at a grocery store and you laughed, you would’ve made my head turn. You act like you were invisible to me prior to showing up with a busted face. That’s not true. We talked—although brief—the day before. Your cheeks turned red, your eyes lit up, and you smiled. I saw those things. I also noticed how withdrawn you became in class, how you didn’t appear to be paying any attention. All those things were before I learned about your struggles. Before I wanted to save you.”