“You shouldn’t have done that,” I murmur, bringing my other hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “That assignment is for after your school assignments are already done.”
“I know, but I was inspired,” she mutters, her hands absently squeezing mine. “I’ve been turned on all day, it’s been terribly uncomfortable.”
It’s such a prim complaint, I could almost laugh at her. I don’t want to hurt her feelings though, so I restrain myself and settle with a small smile. “We’ll see each other Thursday, then.”
“Thursday is so many days away,” she complains.
I like the admission inherent in her words that she’s eager to see more of me, despite what a bastard I can be sometimes. To remind her, I say, “Well, if the wait starts to feel too long, you can get started on your extra credit.”
Noelle rolls her eyes indulgently, a small smile touching her lips. “I told you, I already did it tonight.”
“Not that one. That’s your regular assignment. If you want extra credit, you’ll have to write about me spanking you.”
“Oh.” A little more spirited, she looks up at me and says, “I still think that’s crazy. I mean, no one’s going to go through my laptop so we’re safe as long as it’s on there, but I don’t even know how to get you these naughty writing assignments. I can’t put them in your school dropbox. I’m afraid to print them at my house in case the paper gets jammed—sometimes once you fix it, the printer spits out the page it was printing before the jam, and all I need is for that to happen and then someone else finds it. I can’t email it to you—again, paper trail.”
I can’t help smiling at her earnestness in trying to cover my tracks. “Listen to you. Paper trail,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Her eyebrows rise with no small amount of attitude. “Well, excuse me for looking out for your job. One of us has to do it—doesn’t seem like it’s gonna be you.”
Moving my hand behind her back and ushering her away from the cold brick and toward the stairs down off my porch, I tell her, “You just do the work, I’ll worry about getting it discreetly.”
Glancing back over her shoulder before she starts down the steps, she asks, “What about your sister? I’m not sure she totally believed me.”
It’s cute that she thinks there’s even a chance Carla believed her. “Don’t worry about that, either. I can handle my sister.”
Despite that claim, once I get Noelle in her car and on her way home, I dread going back inside the house. This has all happened rather fast—much faster than I imagined it would—and while Noelle is young and more easily satisfied with less explanation as to my motives or concerns, my sister won’t be. Noelle assumes I know what I’m doing. Carla will think I’m being impetuous, and she’s not entirely wrong.
I’m no more than through the front door and Carla is up off the couch, crossing the living room like there’s a fire on the other side.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Cal? You’re dating a student? One of your students, I assume?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I tell her, shaking my head.
“I don’t care,” she says with wide-eyed disbelief. “What could you possibly be thinking?”
“That I like her,” I say simply, meeting Carla’s gaze. “This is none of your business, and we don’t need to talk about it.”
Ignoring the latter half of what I said, she goes on. “You like her more than your job? More than your reputation? Because she’s gonna cost you both. Hell, maybe more than that. Is she really legal, or was that a lie, too?”
“No, that wasn’t a lie. She turned 18 a couple months ago.”
Carla shakes her head, looking at me in disbelief. “You’re a decade older than her, Cal. She’s too young for you, and your student. You have to end this now, before you get caught.”
I can’t. I don’t let the words slip past my lips because they’d do more to prove Carla right than wrong.
I’ve been doing my best to ignore this attraction since shortly after the school year began. I hadn’t even noticed Noelle the first couple of weeks; she was just another face in the crowd. Obviously, I don’t check out my students, and I’m not open to thinking about any of them that way. It was never a struggle before Noelle.
Sure, there are attractive senior girls in every class, and much of the time they come strutting in at the peak of their physical attractiveness, hair and makeup helping them look older than they are, dressed in the shortest skirts they can get away with, treating the dress code like a challenge and doing their best to sex themselves up despite it. I’ve had more than a few of the bolder ones attempt to express their interest in me, too, and I’ve always been amused by it, but never tempted. I knew the trouble they were looking for, and I didn’t want any part of it.
Noelle never did any of that. She’s not glued to her phone, taking selfies and checking herself out before class starts; she’s too busy actually preparing for class so she can learn something. She’s not bending over in her too-short skirt and glancing back to see if I noticed; she’s anxiously pulling at the sleeves of her sweater, trying to hide herself from view. She never made an openly suggestive comment about how she might be interested in extra credit if I had any to offer; she tried to hide from me in plain sight, like she knew the havoc that would be unleashed if I noticed her.
She’s just different. I can’t even explain why. There’s something about her that draws me in, and I’m greedy for it. I want it all to myself and I don’t want her giving any to anyone else.
I probably should have controlled myself better. When Percy Bennett asked her out, I shouldn’t have given in to my baser urges and snatched her away. If she wanted to waste her time with him or anyone else in her grade, I should have let her.
Trying to lower her voice and approach this more calmly, Carla says, “She seems like a nice girl. If you let her down gently and maybe just explain all you stand to lose, hopefully she won’t be vengeful. How far has it gone? I mean, obviously…” She trails off, glancing toward my driveway.
I know I don’t have to answer her, but the rational part of me is interested in hearing the opinion of a sane adult who isn’t as invested as I am. I’ve told myself I’ve gone too far to turn back now, but maybe that’