Teacher's Pet

That was all it was: disappointment. I wanted Ford to be my knight in shining armor. I wanted a man with as sharp a moral compass as myself and the drive to bring the truth to light. Now it felt as if neither of those things could be possibly true of Ford.

I waited until the end of class, then leapt from my seat. I climbed over students still packing up and was almost to the end of the row when my classmate, Dan, spilled a soda. The frothing bottle whirled around on the floor and sprayed everyone within a two-foot radius. I turned around and edged back the way I came.

This time I had to wait for all the students I had trampled to exit the row in front of me. I considered climbing down to the next row, but it was no better. When I wanted to rush out of class, everyone decided to take their time.

Finally I saw a clear path to the door. If I could just get outside, then Ford would not catch me, and I would not have to confront any of it for another few days. Or ever.

Then I saw Thomas. He was frowning at me from underneath his fringe of shaggy hair. After my run-in with Libby, I did not need to hear him try to convince me of the truth any more. Avoiding him meant I had to double back and go to the far steps. Then I had to cross the lecture hall floor right in front of Ford's desk.

"Clarity, I was hoping I could catch you," Ford said. He stepped out from behind his desk and stood between me and the doorway.

The last students filtered out. Thomas took a long look at us then shook his head in disgust and left.

"I've got another class to get to, Professor Bauer," I said.

"Yes, that's fine," Ford came closer and reached out to touch my arm. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. About that story you were thinking of pursuing..."

I stiffened and backed up. "I don't want to talk about that. Not with you, of all people."

Ford glanced over his shoulder to make sure we were alone. "Me? Please, Clarity, I told you that it's between you and your father. I don't intend to do any digging unless you want me to."

I clutched my backpack.

"If it were me, the first thing I would want to know is the truth," Ford said. This time he caught my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Why? You don't suspect he did it? You don't think everyone has as flexible a morality as you?"

"What? Why are you talking about my morality?" His dark brows furrowed together.

"You know." I stopped before the hitch in my voice was heard.

Ford's grip on my arm tightened, and he pulled me out of the lecture hall and into the prep room. "Why are you suddenly worried about my morality? Does this have anything to do with that student, ah, seeing us?"

I yanked my arm back. "That student? You mean the one you slept with when she was a freshman?"

Ford's eyes turned a flat gray. "What do you think I was trying to tell you at Thanksgiving?"

"Are you kidding me?" I screeched. "Now it's my fault because I didn't want to discuss the most irresponsible mistake I've ever made while we helped my father wash the dishes?"

He flexed his jaw muscle. "I wanted you to hear the truth from me."

"Well, now I've heard it, so I don't need to hear anything else from you."

"Clarity," Ford hissed. "Why don't we go upstairs where we can talk in my office? It's more private there."

I shook my head. "No way. You probably had sex with her up there."

My voice was angry and loud. Ford glanced around and then checked his watch. The next professor would be coming through at any moment, and we were lucky to have been alone so long. His eyes darted around the small prep space and then seized on the supply closet.

"No," I snapped. "I'm not going to let you turn me into another one of your student conquests."

Ford snarled. "I'm not trying to seduce you, for god's sake, Clarity. Give me more credit than that."

I dodged around him and headed for the door to the lecture hall. "You don't deserve any credit. You have to earn it."

"You're right. More right than you know," Ford said. "Fine. I'll tell you the truth here, no matter who comes in."

"Like this?" I swiped a hand over my eyes. "We look like we're having a lovers' spat."