“You love me?”
And I smiled, I really smiled. “I was in love with you long before you dragged your drunken little backside down to the river last night and made me come and rescue you, before you think that performance won you any credit. But I didn’t want to be, for your sake, not mine.”
“Don’t think pulling away would be for my sake,” she said. “I want you to love me. That’s everything I want, everything I ever wanted.”
“But not everything you need.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“Please don’t take this away from me,” she said. “Sometimes my heart knows things, like I said before, and my heart knows I’m supposed to be with you. It’s always known I’m supposed to be with you. It’s like I walked into your classroom when I was just a little kid, and my heart did this little thump and it knew, it just knew you were mine and I was yours. And you can say all the things you want with your mind, with your brain, with your common sense, but I think your heart knows it, too.”
“My heart isn’t going to win you creative opportunities, or critical acclaim. My heart isn’t going to grant you a first at university, and sponsor you to travel the world learning your craft, until you’re a world-renowned artist, living her life to its fullest potential.”
“You are my fullest potential.”
And I laughed. “That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” I’d offended her, I could see it in her eyes. “Loving you is my inspiration. Loving you makes me feel and hope and try. You’re my teacher, you taught me everything, and I’m so good because of you. Because I want to be good for you.”
“You’re so good because you have talent.”
“And because I love you.”
“You are quite possibly the most addictive little thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering, I hope you realise that.”
“So don’t let me go.” She smiled the most nervous little smile. “Please.”
“It’s crazy to think this could ever work. One day you’ll outgrow me and wonder what you were ever thinking.”
“Don’t count on that.”
“I am counting on that.”
“So, what happens now?” She took a breath. “Please don’t say we’ll just be friends again, and you’ll just be my teacher. Please don’t say that.”
“I’ll never say that, because I’m past lying to myself. I’m past trying to walk an impossible line.”
“What, then?” she said. “We’ll really be real? We’ll be together?”
“Until you say you don’t want me anymore.”
“I’ll never say that.” And her eyes were honest, they were so honest.
I cleared my throat. “There’s one condition, and it’s a big one. I won’t ever lie to you and I’d really like you to show me the same courtesy, so if you can’t agree to this and do everything you possibly can do to stay true to it, then say so. You can think about it, you don’t need to answer right now.”
“What’s the condition?”
“I want you to go to university, and I want you to be happy there. And when you’re at university you’ll be a student, and you’ll do all the things students do, and you’ll try your very hardest and you won’t plan your life around me, here. You’ll think of me as little as possible, and then, when you’re done, I’ll be here, but only if that’s what you want.”
She was quiet for long while. “And you’ll wait for me?”
“Yes, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You promise?”
I smiled. “I promise. I’ll be here, in this same old house, teaching a fresh batch of the same old students, going to the same old places, just like I’ve been doing the entire time you’ve known me.”
“Then I agree to it. I’ll go to university, and I’ll do well, and then I’ll come back for you.”
“If that’s still what you want.”
“If that’s still what I want.”
“Good girl.” I pulled her towards me and she folded like paper, straight into my arms. She wrapped me up in her legs, in her arms, and she laid her head on my shoulder and breathed me in. And I forgot about my mind, and reason, and common sense, and I listened to my heart. And my heart knew Helen’s heart. It told the same story.
It told me I wanted to crawl inside her skin, and be a part of her, and never let her go.
***
I pulled the car into the usual place by the river and turned the engine off.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“So do I, but I could do without your photo on a milk carton tomorrow morning.”
She screwed up her face. “They haven’t put missing people on milk cartons in like forever.”
“And that, my sweetest Helen, shows my age.”
“I’m sure it was before your time, too. You’re not that old. You’re not all weird and crusty and you don’t smell of wee.”