The Lie(71)

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I know I look like shit. This weekend drained the hell out of me. Though it was cathartic to say my goodbyes with Natasha, and my soul feels infinitely freer, it didn’t mean that the emotions weren’t still running high. The bonds of shame and guilt may finally be slipping from me, but grief doesn’t ever let go. It may slacken, it may lie still at times, but it’s always tied to you for the rest of your life. I’ve come to terms with that now too, that I’ll never fill the void left behind, but just because you accept something doesn’t mean it gets easier.

That said, I haven’t yet accepted the fact that Melissa is bugging the hell out of me with her dicey motives every time she’s around. The few times I’ve brought her up with Natasha, she’s been supportive of her friend, even though she seems to have her own reservations. Maybe because she’s really the only friend I’ve seen Natasha have, maybe because Melissa—at least in her eyes—is just overly protective.

But there’s something more to her. I can tell. And it frightens me to think that it might go undetected until it’s too late.

You’re being paranoid, I tell myself. Again.

But when I finally look up to give her the Why are you still here? look, I catch the blatant expression of lust in her eyes. Lust and something ill-natured. I imagine it’s the look many girls get when they catch the eye of a man whose intentions are nothing but bad.

“Is there something you wanted to speak to me about?” I ask her, ignoring what she said previously and trying to sound as noncommittal as possible.

“I just wondered what your views were on dating students,” she says with false innocence, her giant forehead wrinkling insincerely.

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “Excuse me?” I nervously look around the classroom to see if anyone heard, but we’re alone now, which is both good and bad.

“Oh, relax,” she says with a shrug. “It’s just a question. You know I don’t bite. Unless I’m told to. I’m very good at taking certain kinds of orders.”

I frown at her, shaking my head, trying to compose myself. “You know what the rules are about that, I’m sure. How is that relevant to anything in today’s class, or any class?”

“I know the rules about fraternizing with students,” she says slowly. “But do you? Do you make exceptions?”

“No,” I say, my jaw wiggling, trying to diffuse the tension. “Now I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.”

“Why?” she asks, coming around the desk, stopping just a few inches away from me. “Do I make you nervous?”

I keep my head raised high. “Frankly, Melissa, you make me very uncomfortable.”

She tilts her head, appraising me with a smirk. “Because I turn you on, that’s why.”

Jesus, she’s crazy.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I make you uncomfortable because you want me, plain and simple. I don’t blame you. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. And I definitely won’t tell anyone.”

“Melissa, if you don’t leave, I’m going to have to bring this up with the university,” I tell her, trying to supress the anger that’s starting to flare up. “It goes both ways. Hitting on a teacher is just as frowned upon as the other way around.”

The smirk begins to fade. Her eyes narrow. “You would actually report me? Just for talking to you?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “Because this isn’t just talking and you know it. I’m going to pretend I don’t know what the bloody hell you’re offering, but between you and me, I don’t f*cking want it.”

Her head jerks back like she’s been slapped. I don’t feel bad, but as I see the scorn churning in her eyes, I’m starting to regret being so harsh. She’s not the type to take rejection lightly, I can see that now.

“What did you say to me?” she whispers.

“I said, get the f*ck out.” I point to the door. “And the next time you want to speak to me, I’m making sure we aren’t alone. And if we are alone, I’m making sure to record it. Do you understand? I don’t know what f*cking game you are playing here with me, but it ends here and now. I’m not interested in you and I wouldn’t be even if you weren’t my student. Once you accept that, the easier this semester will be.”

She glares at me. “You’re a right prick you know that? Fucking wanker.”

“I’ve been called worse by people more important than you.” I jerk my head to the door and bring out my phone. “And I have no problems hitting the record button right now if you truly wish to make this more difficult than it is.”

She sucks in her breath through her teeth, seeming to simmer, then shakes her head. “You’ll regret this.”

I give her a sour smile. “No. Don’t talk to me about regret. You don’t know shit. Now, go.”

She blinks at me in some sort of raging shock before she whips around and storms out of the room. I exhale loudly, trying to gather strength and clarity into my lungs and head.

I need to talk to Natasha about her, I just don’t know how to bring it up. I don’t know what problems it’s going to create for her, and the last thing I want is for her to get kicked out. Melissa is in charge of the flat, and if Natasha were to ever tell her something, Melissa’s jealousy would rage and Natasha would be gone. She couldn’t live with me, not long-term anyway, while I still have a job. I take my chances with dating Natasha in secret, but living together is another risk entirely.