Teacher's Pet

It wasn't working for me. I paced one more lap around the raised garden beds then flopped onto our sun-bleached bench. Counting backwards was supposed to calm me. I took a deep breath and started at twenty. By fifteen, I was struggling to erase tall, dark, and handsome. By ten, my shoulders relaxed.

At seven, I heard boots on the stepping stones. My eyes flew open, and Ford stopped just past the low branches of our old apple tree.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," he said.

You have no idea, I thought. "Too stuffy in there?" I asked him.

Ford laughed. "A little bit." He strode over and joined me on the bench. "Let me guess: you're escaping from your boss."

"My boss? Dean Dunkirk?" I knew I should correct him, but we were so separate from the party. There wouldn't be any harm in being my own person for just a few, quiet moments. "Yeah, he's a big talker about breaking out and bending rules, but what do you want to bet he'll have a dozen things for me to do when I get back?" I said.

Ford leaned back and stretched his long legs out. He crossed his ankles casually and sighed. "I know it's just the beginning of the school year, but I keep thinking about grabbing the train and heading to the end of the line. Or just riding until I feel like getting off and not caring where I end up. That's bad,

isn't it?"

I hitched an elbow up onto the back of the bench and turned to face him. "I regularly dream about packing a bag, getting in my car, and just driving," I confessed.

"Talk to me when you have that bag already packed," Ford said. "We could be past Chicago and on our way west in an hour. Not that I've studied the train time tables or anything." His smile flashed like lightning in the dark garden.

"Why the train?" I asked.

"That way I'm moving, but I can still enjoy the scenery." He looped an arm over the back of the bench next to mine. His hand brushed the ends of my hair. "There are lots of beautiful things I'd like to focus on for a while."

His leg pressed along my thigh, and the autumn air couldn't cool me down enough. A blush rose on my cheeks, and I was glad for the shadowy garden. "Running away on a train sounds so romantic," I said.

"Exactly," Ford murmured. "Do you think Dean Dunkirk would approve of you jumping on a train for a romantic getaway?"

I pulled back and stood up. "Sorry, I really should be getting back to the party."

Ford stood up. "So, Dean Dunkirk's right, huh? You're always so good?"

"Good night," I said, and fled back to my father's house.

Chapter Two

Ford

Clarity's dark-red hair was easy to spot through the windows. I wasn't ready to return to the party. I wasn't ready to admit that she was the reason I had stepped outside for some fresh air in the first place. It was all the professors, so noble in their pursuits, and the students, so fresh-faced and eager. It drove me crazy how the real world was pushed outside of Landsman College.

I watched Clarity move through the party. She belonged there, smiled and chatted with everyone, and looked at home. I felt a plume of warmth in my chest. Just minutes ago, she had been outside with me, wishing for a way to get far away and free of it all.

I knew the long hours and close quarters of a train would be no problem at all if Clarity was with me. The thought sent me marching towards the front of the house. I hadn't felt a kick of attraction that strong since high school. That girl dumped me flat on my ass right after I enlisted, and I'd been keeping it simple ever since I’d returned to civilian life. Clarity was the only exception I'd run across, and all I could think to do was get far away from her.

"Ford, is that you? What are you doing skulking around in the roses?"

I skipped the stepping stones and jumped onto the sidewalk to join my friend. "Jackson, thank god you're here. Just the breath of fresh air I was looking for."

"Speaking of fresh air," Jackson said, "Alice and I want you to meet her friend. I think you two would really get along."

"Nice talking with you, Jackson, see you on campus." I veered away from the front steps and headed to my car.

"Come on, Ford; it can't be that bad," Jackson grabbed my arm and hauled me back.

"What is this obsession with setting me up?" I asked.

Jackson grinned. "I can't help it. After Alice and I got married this summer, I just want other people to feel the same happiness. And I wouldn't be bugging you with blind dates if you'd just find someone yourself."

"I'll let you know when I find someone interesting enough to date," I said.