Rewriting History

***

I wake early the next morning, my neck crunched into an unnatural position against the arm of the sofa. My head is killing me. I’m not sure if it’s due to my sleeping position, or the lack of sleep catching up to me. After a quick shower and a breakfast consisting of black coffee—because I haven’t shopped for milk—I leave for work.

I’m barely able to concentrate on the road as I drive into the harsh morning glare. School is only a few miles from my place, but time is dragging. I just want this day to be over so I can resume my position on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself. I pull into the staff parking lot and reverse into the first available spot.

Sighing, I slouch in my chair, waiting for nine a.m. to roll around. It feels like I’ve been working for hours, but the day hasn’t even begun. I just want this whole mess to be over with. A few more days of teaching her and then I’ll at least have some distance to be able to sort my head out.

Here I am, preparing for another day of pretending I don’t care about her. I feel like shit, and I’m pretty sure I look worse. I haven’t shaved in days, and my mind is riddled with thoughts of her.

“Mr. Anderson, can I speak to you about this assignment?”

I look up, my expression pained as I see Jill walking toward me. Really? For fuck’s sake, cut me some slack. The bell for the first class hasn’t even rung yet and I need to deal with her?

“What is it?” I ask tersely.

My jaw clenches as I hold her gaze. A shiver races through me; there’s anger in her eyes, and for a moment I feel guilty about pushing her away. But then I remind myself that she is the one who lied to me, and we wouldn’t be in this damn mess if she hadn’t lied about her age.

She could have been just another random student in my class. Would I have looked at her the same way? Would my mind have been constantly rolling with thoughts of myself between her legs or kissing those fucking lips if she was simply a student? No. Things would’ve been much easier for both of us if we’d never met before this.

“We have class in five minutes, Jill. I really don’t have time for this.”

“You’re going to make time,” she replies evenly, placing her palms down on my desk. Her green eyes level on mine and I’m powerless. When I can’t even bring myself to look away, what hope do I have? “I deserve to know what’s going on. You think you can end us after fucking me? Are you trying to mess with me, or is that just a bonus?”

She pauses and shakes her head.

“I get that I lied to you, and if I could change that, I would. Honestly, no I wouldn’t. I don’t want to change it. Because the fact is you’re an amazing guy who wouldn’t have looked twice at me if you knew I was seventeen.”

“Because it’s fucking wrong,” I explode.

I hush my voice immediately when I remember where we are. My heart is racing as I rack my mind for a way to make her see why we will never happen, because she just doesn’t seem to be getting it.

“What I want, it doesn’t matter, Jill. This can’t happen.?

?? My eyes dart toward the open door. “And we can’t be having this conversation here. Or anywhere.”

I take a deep breath, lowering my voice.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do this.”

She starts to protest, but I cut her off.

“No, listen to me, dammit! I will not risk everything I’ve worked for on some silly crush.”

Hurt fills her eyes as she blinks back tears. I hate that I’ve made her cry, but being blunt is the only way I can think of to get through to her.

“If that’s all this was to you, then I’m not the only one who misrepresented who they are,” she whispers before storming off.

***

Thank God today is over.

I swear every fucking person was just around today to piss me off—students, other staff, everyone. Maybe it has something to do with my lack of sleep, but today is the first day where I’ve regretted my decision to teach. I’m sure a big part of that is this situation with Jill. I have no idea how to handle it. After our talk, she went out of her way to ignore me for the rest of the day, which I thought was what I wanted. But now I don’t know.

Shoving my swipe key over the pad, I push the front door open with a little too much force and it bounces off the wall, slamming shut behind me. I throw my keys on the table, anger radiating off me. I need to let go of some of this emotion; it’s draining. I could just have a wank in the shower, but then I’d resort to thinking about her. And that’s the last thing I want to do. I need to forget.

Grabbing my phone, I text Danny, my old high school buddy. Danny and I go way back. We went to the same college and got up to more shit than I care to admit—mostly because of his bad influence on me.

While I studied Education and History, Danny studied Law—when he could fit classes in between parties, that is. But that didn’t stop him from graduating top of his class and being head-hunted by several huge firms all over the U.S. In the end he chose one of the top criminal defense firms in N.Y.C.