Teacher - Voyeur

“No. It’s okay,” he rushed to reassure. My heart buoyed just to sink back down when I managed to look up. Terror still marred his features, only now his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I, uh…”

The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it, on the verge of screaming for him to say anything just to end it.

Voices interrupted us, drawing his eyes to the open door. People were arriving for class. The gym was opening, and we were no longer alone.

Giving us both the escape we needed, I climbed off his lap, sad that he let me go. “We should get going,” I muttered, unable to look anywhere but the ground.

“Yeah,” he breathed, standing to collect everything.

The room weighed heavy with everything set free inside of it. Unfortunately, with everything I let go here, I’d be carrying another weight home with me. One I didn’t know what to do with.

While he packed, I ordered an Uber. The thought of sitting beside him in a small car was more than I could bear. It would be hell on both of us.

“You want to do breakfast?” he asked once we stood on the sidewalk in front of the building.

I wanted to scream, yes. I wanted so much, but while he offered breakfast, his stiff posture let me know the offer was more out of kindness than actual desire.

“It’s okay. I have to get to work.”

His shoulders dropped in relief, and I hated that I’d read him so accurately. “Okay. I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s okay,” I said again like a broken record. “I ordered an Uber. Our apartments are in opposite directions.

“Hanna.” He said my name like a plea. For what, I didn’t know. To not do this? To forgive him? To take it all back?

“It’s already done,” I said with a forced smile nowhere near reaching my eyes. The driver pulled up, and I opened the door.

“Hanna,” he said again.

I turned back before getting in, saying the furthest thing from the truth. “It’s okay, Daniel.”

We both knew it wasn’t, and as I drove away, I wasn’t sure it ever would be.

25

Daniel

“So, what do you think?”

I turned blinking eyes to Sabrina before looking back at the empty apartment around us. “Umm, it’s nice.”

“Right?” She practically vibrated with energy, but alarm bells were ringing.

“I was thinking we could put a down payment next month and move in by summer.”

“What?” I breathed.

“Yeah, I already talked to the office about it.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I think you forgot to talk to me about it.”

“What’s there to talk about? We’ve been together for years. This is the next step.”

“Sabrina…”

“I love you, Daniel. Don’t you want us to live together? Start our future?”

The spacious apartment all of a sudden shrunk to the size of a dollhouse, compressing my body with panic. I slicked my tongue across my dry lips, trying to control my breathing. Sabrina was my best friend. I cared about her, but I—I what? What did I want from this? Why couldn’t I just be honest with myself? With her?

She deserved it. She deserved the chance to be with someone who could love her. I cared about her…but if I loved her, shouldn’t I be jumping at the chance to live with my girlfriend?

“Can we talk outside?”

Honest. I had to be honest with her. She was my friend. She would want what’s best for me too.

The fresh air and sunshine didn’t help. She looked up with her brilliant green eyes, and I felt like I was choking. As much as I wanted to be honest with her, I needed to be careful. Sabrina was…fragile.

“Sabrina, I—I don’t know if I’m ready to move in together.”

“Why not? Don’t you love me? I know you don’t say it, but you don’t need to for me to know it.”

“I—I care about you so much.”

Her smile dimmed as realization sank in, but just as quickly, it came back more forced than ever. “Then next year. We can do the dorms for another year.”

“I don’t think a year will help.”

“Why not? Daniel, I love you. I—” The smile dropped completely, and she gripped my sweaty palms in hers. “I can’t do this without you. You have to love me.”

“I care about you so much. You’re my best friend.”

“Then I’ll love you enough for both of us. Daniel, you promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You are,” she shouted. “You’re abandoning me because I’m not good enough. God, I’ll never be good enough. Why bother? Why bother with anything? I’m a waste of air.”

She tried to jerk away, but I gripped her face in my palms and made her look at me. “You are good enough. You are good enough to be loved.”

“Just not by you?” she sneered.

Her eyes hardened, and I braced myself. Sabrina went through the full gamut of emotions when we fought—which had been more and more frequently since we started college. I tried to avoid it, but this felt like a freight train I couldn’t stop.