“Whatever. It was a beautiful love story. How about you? Any special lady in your life?”
Josh frowns and looks away. “Nope. I don’t have time for relationships. I want to focus on turning my passion into a career, because nothing can take that away from me.”
I mull over his words, thinking inevitably about Alistair. My sadness returns, but also anger.
“You’re right. Fuck love. Like Tina Turner said, it’s a secondhand emotion, anyway.”
21
Alistair
I’m the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. I kissed Chiara, and in my office to boot. Anyone could have walked in, ending my teaching career in a minute and also giving Nadine everything she needs to get what she wants. We’re separated, but her lawyer would no doubt twist it around since Chiara is my student. Nadine is not beyond blackmailing me.
I should be more concerned about that, but all I can think about is how Chiara crumbled in my office. I wasn’t imagining things. There was more to her reaction than simple ego bruising.
Damn it. I thought she was only after a distraction in Italy. That made sense when she bailed without saying goodbye. I won’t lie and say it didn’t upset me, but I chalked it up as hurt male pride. What if Italy was more than just careless fun for both of us?
No, I can’t entertain those thoughts. I have to cut all strings before things get more complicated. It’s obvious I can’t be trusted to be alone with her, so I have to get her out of my system for good.
I need to get laid.
I text Enzo and ask what his plans are for the weekend. He’s the social butterfly in my tight group of friends and the wingman I need. He replies thirty minutes later saying he’s going to a party at the Hills on Friday. I groan. That means a party filled with wannabe celebrities, not exactly my scene anymore. But it’s either that or take cold showers every time I picture Chiara naked under me. I reply that I’m game, and then I get ready to tackle another task I had been procrastinating: reading and grading Chiara and Josh’s paper.
I’m afraid it won’t be good and I’ll be forced to give her a low grade. She’ll think I’m retaliating if that’s the case. Fuck. What a mess.
I get to it, because the work won’t get done with me just staring at the screen. As I begin to read, the tension slowly leaves my body. They selected three well-written screenplays and their analysis is good. They could have dove deeper in some areas, but overall, it’s a solid B-plus.
As I upload the document with my notes and post the final grade online, I instinctively know Chiara won’t be happy about it. I checked her transcripts from Italy. She was at the top of her class.
I can’t help the feeling of pride that spreads across my chest. It goes beyond what a teacher should feel toward a pupil. All educators want their students to do well, but my desire to see Chiara succeed goes further than that.
Irritated with the conflicting emotions bouncing inside my head, I put on the meditation track Caio recommended a few months ago. I was skeptical at first, but after a few tries, I realized that listening to it for a few minutes does help me focus afterward.
I don’t achieve a Zen state of mind this time because I’m interrupted by Forrester, DuBose’s principal. He knocks on my door and pushes it open before I even have the chance to reply. His mop of gray hair appears through the crack, probably to make sure I’m alone before he opens the door all the way and walks in.
“Hi, Alistair, do you have a minute?”
I pull my earphones off and watch my friend warily. It’s not like him to make unannounced appearances. The fact that if he had come by twenty minutes earlier, he would have caught me with Chiara twists my guts into knots.
“Yes, sure. What can I do for you?”
Forrester closes the door before taking a seat. His face is more serious than usual. I smell trouble.
“I have a delicate matter to discuss with you.”
Ah fuck. Has he somehow found out about Chiara and me? A spike of adrenaline shoots through my veins, but I keep my poker face on.
“I’m listening.”
“I hate to say this without proof, but I caught wind of a rumor that one of the DuBose’s teachers is having an affair with a student.”
I swallow hard but don’t say anything. If Forrester asks point blank if I’m involved with Chiara, I won’t lie.
He laughs nervously. “You know how kids are on social media. Gossip spreads like wildfire.”
“How did you catch wind of this rumor?”
“Through my daughter, Jillian. I overheard a conversation between her and a friend. It was by accident, but it made me extremely concerned. That’s why I’m here speaking with you. I don’t want to accuse Miss Kensington of improper conduct based on mere gossip.”
“Miss Kensington?”
“Yes. Apparently she was caught making out with one of her students at a popular bar downtown. I had my assistant look into it, and there is indeed a picture of someone who looks like her in a passionate embrace with a guy. Here, I had Marianne print this out for me.”
Forrester pulls a folded piece of paper from his jacket and slides it over to me. Frowning, I pick up the photo and grind my teeth as I stare at a very dark and grainy picture.
“This could be anyone, Forrester.”
“I know. But what if the rumors are true? You know what they say, ‘where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’”
“Are you here seeking my advice?”
“In a way, yes.”
“Don’t do anything. Pretend you’ve never heard about the rumors. If you bring Miss Kensington in to ask questions without solid proof, you might lose a very good teacher and possibly get your ass sued as well.”
Forrester doesn’t balk at my crude remark. We’ve known each other for a very long time. He flattens his lips and stares at my desk.
“Yes, you’re right. Besides, I don’t want to sound sexist, but the reality is that a relationship between a female teacher and a male student wouldn’t do as much damage to DuBose’s reputation as if it had been the other way around. Provided the student is of age, naturally.”
