Dulce

21

“Everly, please take a seat.” Luke indicates for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk as he walks around it to his own seat.

I slide my bag to my feet and take a seat as he asks. I watch him as he sits, his white shirt pulling tight against his chest, his hair messy in the classic I’ve-just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of way.

I didn’t see him leave this morning. That in itself is not unusual since we all have different schedules, but since that conversation about Louise on the balcony, it’s as if he’s been avoiding me.

“So, how are you settling in?” He picks up a pen and taps it against the desk.

I shrug. “It’s okay. Nothing particularly exciting to report.”

He cocks his brow, tossing the pen down.

“It’s true. Except for a few new girl issues, nothing much has happened.”

“You’ve walked across the campus in your underwear. You live with two boys who want to mess with you almost as much as they want to get in your pants, and you have this whole odd dynamic going on with you and Dmitri.”

“Well, I think you’ve covered everything. Nice chat. Can I go?” I stand, but he slaps the desk with the flat of his palm.

“Sit down,” he snaps. I bristle but do as he asks, with a put-out sigh. Seems like I’m really getting into the role of disgruntled teen.

“I know this seems unnecessary to you, but mental health is not something to joke about. I have students who have failed to get help who have hurt themselves because they found this whole thing one big laugh.”

I watch him unravel a little and realize, somewhat ironically, that perhaps it’s he that needs to talk to someone, and maybe this is the only way.

“I’m okay, Luke. I promise. I’m stronger than I look. I’m not sad, lonely, or even homesick. I keep in touch with my family, and I’ve made friends. Yes, there are some prissy assholes here, but I can handle them.”

He looks me over, and it feels odd. His gaze, that is. It’s kind of probing, but not in a sexual way. There is interest there, but it feels more like he’s looking at a bug under a microscope.

“Yes, I suspect you are. You don’t let anyone get you down, do you?” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face.

“I wish it was something I could bottle and pass on to my other students. Most of the kids here either see themselves as broken or invincible. Just once I’d like them to understand they are neither and yet both. They are all only human, after all.”

“Everyone messes up. Hell, that’s what being a teenager is all about. Making mistakes, learning from them, and figuring out new emotions like guilt and regret. It’s a fun learning curve that we all have to navigate or risk going off the rails.”

He tilts his head and smiles, a look of surprise in his eyes. “You’re very astute for someone so young.”

I’m not sure if he means to be patronizing, but that’s how it feels. Still, I give him the benefit of the doubt and smile tightly.

“That’s me. Insightful.”

He considers me for a moment before standing and moving around the desk to perch on the edge of it in front of me. “I know you heard at least some of the stories going on around here. It’s unfortunate, but most of the kids that come through these doors already have behavioral issues, so I shouldn’t be surprised when one or two end their lives so drastically. But as their counselor, I take each loss as a failure. I don’t want you to become just another statistic. If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open, day or night.”

“Thanks.” I nod, but we both know I wouldn’t go to him with anything. I don’t know him that well, and I’m careful with who I let into my circle.

“What about at home? How are you doing with the sleeping arrangements? Nobody is making you feel uncomfortable, are they?”

“Actually, that’s when everyone seems to be on their best behavior, so I can’t complain.”

“Aslanov—”

I hold up my hand. “Is none of your business. You have questions, ask him. I haven’t done anything wrong.” I emphasize the I in that sentence because, legally, me having sexual relations with a teacher doesn’t mean much. I don’t have a duty of care to him, but he does have one toward me. It could be seen as a person in a position of power taking advantage of someone under his rule.

“Technically, neither of you has done anything wrong. You’re eighteen, Everly.” I’m actually twenty, but whatever.

“It’s not illegal, but it definitely falls into a morally gray area. It would certainly be frowned upon if it became public knowledge.”

“Well, we don’t stroll around the corridors hand in hand, so that shouldn’t be an issue unless you make it one. See, Abe and Cain won’t say anything. I’ve already figured that out. They won’t do anything to jeopardize their place here. That leaves you. I guess it depends on where your loyalty lies.”

“My loyalty lies with you. My students are the most important thing to me.”

I stand up, snag my bag and lean toward him, my lips against the shell of his ear. “That’s an interesting way of looking at things when you made yourself come watching me orgasm. Don’t worry, it’s not illegal. Just perhaps a little morally gray, no?”

I turn and yank the door open before stepping out and slamming it closed behind me. I’m not sure why that whole scenario has me wound tight, but his line of questioning left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

Knowing I should be heading to English but not wanting to face Miss Smith’s attitude on top of Luke’s, I decide to head back to Blackwell House. As I head toward the doors, I change my mind and twirl around, heading in the opposite direction.

My heels make a click-clack noise as I stroll down the shiny tiled floor, knocking when I get to the door before opening.

The receptionist lifts her head when she sees me. I step inside and smile, remembering she is a little hard of hearing, and ask her loudly and clearly if I can see Mr. Aslanov.

The man himself must hear me. Because his door opens, and he steps out, his eyes roving over me as if checking to make sure I’m okay.

“Miss Sinclair. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, but can I talk to you for a second?”

He indicates for me to follow him into his office. I do, brushing past him as he holds the door open. I pause for a minute, looking at the desk and imagining all the dirty things done to me on top of it.

His cough breaks me out of my daydream as I look up at his wry smile. I sit in the chair and wait for him to take a seat before talking.

“I know I should be in class, but I just had a session with Luke, and I think I’d like to go home now.”

“Home? Don’t quit because of something he said to you. You have—”

I hold up my hand to interrupt him. “Home, as in the place I share with you.”

“Ah.” He laughs before a frown takes over his features. “Did he do something?”

I look at him with curiosity.

“Why would you think that?”