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  “What are you smiling at?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

  “You’re handsome,” I said, sounding like a freaking schoolgirl. Foster grinned and kissed me. Taking my bottom lip in his, he sucked long and hard until I was practically panting at his feet.

  “You ready, beautiful?” Foster asked, forehead pressed against mine.

  I was.

  5

  Show Of Hands

  I sat front and center. Wearing only a skirt and no underwear, it was probably the craziest thing I’d ever done and would do. Every Monday and Wednesday was torture for me. Foster stood up at the front, looking incredibly sexy with his rolled up sleeves and messy hair, speaking with complete confidence on one of the hardest subjects I’d ever taken. Then, afterward, he dominated me.

  I didn’t know how he did it. I didn’t know how he stood up there and talked about o-chem without faltering. I could barely keep my notes straight with him, but he rambled off formulas like it was no big deal. That day I decided to do something a little naughty. I didn’t want us to get caught; I wasn’t going to do anything big, I just wanted to see him falter. Just a little bit. Just to know I affected him as much as he affected me.

  Foster noticed me sitting in the front. I usually sat in the middle, but he didn’t acknowledge it. We never acknowledged anything in class. He began the lecture as usual, and as usual I was enthralled. I nearly forgot my plan. I watched the muscles in his exposed forearm ripple as he pointed to the problem he drew on the white board and… Am I drooling? Better wipe that up.

  A student raised their hand and asked a question about the problem I wasn’t paying attention to, snapping me back to attention. I smiled to myself, feeling wicked, and slowly opened my legs. I knew only Foster could see me. I was wearing a long enough skirt that anyone next to me would just think I was stretching my legs. But I wasn’t. I so wasn’t.

  For the first time in my life I was going commando, and I was doing it in a classroom full of students. I continued to spread my legs, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. Foster’s attention was on the student as he answered the question, until his gaze drifted toward me.

  “And so you—” He stopped dead, but for only a second. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have noticed the change. But I was. I was looking for it. His eyes widened at me and then he coughed loudly. Once, twice, three times he coughed!

  “I’m sorry,” Foster said, “I’m getting over a cold. What was I saying?”

  I bit my finger to keep from laughing. The student reminded Foster where he was, and Foster continued, but his gaze kept drifting back to me and my open legs.

  I decided to tease him a bit, so I slid my hand between my legs and played with myself. I couldn’t believe what had come over me, but every time I was in Foster’s presence I had to touch myself. It was torture not to. I got so hot and swollen it was uncomfortable if I didn’t.

  I just touched myself lightly, playing with the folds, and I could see Foster was noticing. His jaw was clenched really tight and his hands were white fists as he wrote out another problem on the board.

  “You know what?” Foster stopped writing the problem. “It’s Wednesday. That’s almost Friday. Let’s call it a day.” Foster dropped the dry erase marker and turned to the class. A murmur of surprise and excitement erupted. Professors never canceled class. There was still half the time left, but Foster assured everyone that it was just a little Wednesday surprise.

  “Go and enjoy your day,” Foster said. “Be sure to finish your reading.” His gaze shot to mine, dark and leonine.

  I felt victorious.

  * * *

  As the last of the class filed out to enjoy their newly free Wednesday morning, Foster shut the door and locked it behind them. We had about thirty minutes before the next class came to use the space. I walked up to him, drawn like a moth to a flame.

  “What the fuck was that?” Foster asked, pulling me in to him.

  “What?” I asked coyly, feigning innocence.

  “Are you trying to get me fired?” Foster grabbed me by the arms and spun me around so that I was pressed up against the whiteboard. He grabbed my hair and pushed it to one side. I felt his hot breath on my skin as he placed lingering kisses up and down my neck. “Because next time you do that I’ll pull you out of your seat and fuck you in front of everyone.”

  “Promise?” I asked, my voice breathy from his kisses and being pressed up against the board.

  “Oh…” Foster laughed low in his throat and spun me back around so that I faced him. He caged me with one arm on either side of my head. “You’ll ruin me, Nora. My beautiful…” Foster pushed his body in to mine, forcing me hard against the board. I felt him, his cock hard like a steel pole against my stomach.

  “My devious…” He placed his palm on my belly and slowly slid it under the waist of my skirt.

  I tilted my head back as his hand met the bare, secret skin beneath. There was no space behind me so my head had to grind against the board, but the pain was a welcome distraction from his torturously slow pace.

  As Foster entered me, I had several crystal clear thoughts.

  This isn’t just sex anymore.

  I love this man.

  I’m totally fucked.

  6

  Hooky

  I asked Rachael to stay up with me on Thursday and we spent the night getting drunk and watching eighties movies. Something about John Hughes always made me feel better.

  Rachael bought string and we braided friendship bracelets like we were still in high school, except we both knew we weren’t. I was having an affair with my professor and Rachael was guzzling wine like it was water. By the third bottle we were too drunk to separate the strings and had to stop braiding. I leaned back into the couch with a sigh, watching Molly Ringwald with fascination. Even in her insecurity, she seemed so sure of herself.

  “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” I whined.

  “I know,” Rachael said, taking a bite of the brownies we’d made earlier. “I mean, you of all people. I thought you would work all through college and be one of those boring people who had no stories to tell. But sleeping with your professor? That’s pretty metal.”

  I grabbed a pillow and groaned in to it. “Not helping.”

  “Oh come on, Nora.” Rachael snatched the pillow out of my hand. “It’s one thing to have a fling with your professor, and another to stop acting like yourself.”

  I squinted at her. “Huh?”

  Rachael huffed. “The Nora I knew wouldn’t let a problem stop her. She would solve it and make it her bitch.”

  Smiling briefly at her choice of words, I explained my predicament. “I think I love him, Rach.”

  Rachael jumped up, cookies falling off her chest. “So tell him!”

  “What?” I practically screamed. “Are you insane?”

  “Maybe? I’ve had a lot of sugar tonight, but that doesn’t matter. You need to tell him.”

  “Why? What is that going to accomplish? Except, you know, humiliation.”

  Slowly, Rachael sat back down. “I bet he loves you back. I bet you guys live happily ever after. Like Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson.”

  I scrunched my face at her comparison. “We have no idea if Molly and Judd live happily ever after. For all we know, when school started back up again she went back to being the princess and he went back to being the outcast. That’s probably what happened. So if I’m Molly and Foster is Judd, then we’re screwed. Actually, I’m probably Judd in this scenario.”

  Rachael stared at me with her mouth open for a good two minutes before shaking her head and saying, “Holy shit girl, you are way over thinking this. Like just take a cookie, or a brownie, or a glass of wine, and chill the fuck out.”

  “You”—I pointed a finger at Rachael—“are way under-thinking this. If anyone finds out about us, Foster is fired and I’m…” Well, I didn’t know what I would be. Expelled? “I don’t know, but I know I’m not in a g
ood place. Maybe my scholarship would get taken away.”

  “Why do people have to find out?”

  “Because!” I said, practically ripping my hair out. “I’m so tired of hiding. We only exist in shadows.”

  “Over exaggerate much?”

  I shrugged, wanting the conversation to be over.

  “Promise me that you will tell Foster how you feel,” Rachael pressed.

  “Okay,” I relented.

  “Pinky promise,” Rachael clarified, eyeing me down with her pinky extended. I sighed, giving her my pinky. Years later and pinky promises were still the epitome of our trust. If I broke a pinky promise then Rachael would get to break my pinky finger. Still, I couldn’t help but think that a broken finger was better than a broken heart.

  * * *

  I skipped Friday’s class, opting instead to hide outside the building. It may have been cowardly, but I just couldn’t see Foster. I needed time to think. Sure, I’d promised Rachael I would tell Foster that I was falling for him, but it was easier said than done. I stood outside his building for a good three hours before gaining the courage to walk inside. When I finally did, it took me another hour to actually go to his office. After finally gaining the courage to go to his office, he was just walking out.

  “Nora,” Foster said, surprise lacing his voice.

  “Hi,” I said, my voice small.

  “Why haven’t you been responding to my texts and calls? What’s going on? You weren’t in class either.”

  I love you, I wanted to say. This relationship has become the most important thing in my life. More important than school. More important than my career. More important than Nutella, even. I’m scared, Foster. I’m scared because you’re my professor and our relationship can’t be anything more than that.

  But I didn’t say any of that. I didn’t get the chance. Just as I was about to tell Foster how head over heels completely in love with him I was, he said, “Nora, I’ve been thinking.”

  I swallowed, bracing myself.

  “I think we should stop this before it gets out of hand. If we were to get caught, I could get fired and you could get your scholarship taken away. I know how hard you worked for that, not to mention it would really hinder your chances at employment in the future.”

  I nodded, swallowing the tears bubbling up in my throat.

  “Nora?” Foster asked, touching my shoulder. “What do you think? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah that’s great,” I said, spinning around so he couldn’t see my red face. I started walking down the hall, away from him. I was hoping I could keep the tears in long enough to make it home, but they had a will of their own. Tears broke through when I was only halfway down the hall. I broke out in a sprint.

  “Nora!” I heard Foster calling after me, but I couldn’t look. Tears were streaming down my face and I had to get out of the building. I needed to get back to my dorm so I could crawl under the covers and never come out.

  7

  Off Campus

  “You have to get up and do something, Nora.”

  I glared at Rachael. “I am doing something, Rach. I’m eating ice cream and watching Netflix.”

  “Is that alcoholic ice cream?” Rachael asked, glaring at my almost finished pint.

  “Maybe,” I responded, glaring back.

  “How much of that have you had? It’s only ten in the morning.” Rachael reached for the pint I was nursing against my chest. I hoped if I kept the cold bucket pressed against me long enough it might numb my broken heart.

  “None of your beeswax,” I said, holding the ice cream out of reach. Rachael lunged for the ice cream but I scrambled to the other end of the couch.

  Exasperated, Rachael pulled back. Hands on hips, she said, “You can’t just stay here and get drunk on ice cream all day.”

  “Why not?” I asked, spooning more into my mouth.

  “Because it’s…” Rachael struggled to find a reason. “It’s pathetic.”

  “Well”—I pointed my spoon at her as I made my point—“I feel pretty pathetic so at least what I’m doing matches that.”

  Rachael perched on the arm of the couch, her face contorting from pity to problem solving. Mentally, I geared up for one of her patented pep talks.

  “Did you ever tell Foster you love him?”

  I scoffed, shoving another spoonful of my wine ice cream in to my mouth. As the delicious blackberry flavor melted on my tongue, I regarded my best friend with the appropriate disdain.

  “When exactly should I have told him? When he was dumping me? Or after?”

  “He might not have dumped you if he knew how you felt. It makes sense to end a fling. What you guys were doing was dangerous and reckless and stupid, if-if-you weren’t in love. But you are in love, so it’s worth it.”

  I snorted. “Rachael I appreciate you trying to make me feel better but Foster just doesn’t care about me. It’s that simple. This isn’t a love story. It’s life.”

  “How many times has he texted you?” Rachael asked. I glared in response. Rachael pressed. “How many, Nora?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied. In truth, Foster had been texting me nonstop—asking me how I was doing, how I was feeling, if I needed anything. He said he still wanted to be friends. After the last text had come about fifteen minutes before Rachael’s intervention, I’d thrown my phone at the wall.

  Later that day, after Rachael left and I sobered up some, I walked to campus. I was hoping to convince the registrar to let me drop Foster’s class. It was only one day past the no-penalty drop day, after all. I’d hopped in the shower, popped a few breath mints in my mouth, and made my way to campus.

  There was no way in hell I could spend the rest of the semester in Foster’s class. Of course, because God hated me, I ran into Foster almost immediately.

  “Nora…” Foster said, his voice laced with pity.

  “This”—I pointed at my obviously disheveled appearance—“isn’t because of you. A very important goldfish of mine died. I’m quite broken up about it.”

  “A goldfish?”

  “Yes. His name was…” I paused, trying to come up with a name for the imaginary goldfish that was supposed to be saving my dignity. “Goldy?”

  “Goldy the Goldfish?” Feeling even more humiliated as Foster repeated the ridiculous name, I opted to walk away from him. It was better to leave rather than endure more embarrassment. I rounded the corner, realizing I’d made a directional error. I was at the end of the hallway, the lights were off, and there was just a door marked “Custodial.”

  Just perfect.

  Can’t I get a break?

  “Nora, talk to me.”

  Apparently not. I turned around to see Foster, the light behind him an angelic shadow. I watched him walk toward me, powerless to move. When he placed his hand on my cheek, I melted. I let him pull down the straps of the dress I was wearing.

  He hissed when he realized I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Our lips met. I had no control over my body, because Foster owned it. No matter how much damage he was doing to my psyche, all Foster had to do was walk up and touch me and I would submit.

  As he pushed me up against the door, Foster crushed his lips against mine. There in the dimly lit hallway, we connected once again, and I became powerless once more.

  * * *

  I pulled up my dress, shaking my head angrily. I couldn’t believe I was that girl, the girl who knew what she should do but did the opposite anyway. Foster touched me and I obeyed no matter what. I brushed past him, trying to escape my own self-loathing.

  Out of the building, I thought I’d escaped him until I heard: “Nora, wait! Where are you going?”

  “Where am I going? Where am I going?” I couldn’t help but repeat myself. I knew I sounded like a shrill, insane harpy, but Foster had just shredded my heart and now this? I couldn’t take it. “I’m getting away from you!”

  “Look…” Foster ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, tangling it and making it messy.
My stomach did flip-flops and I cursed my traitorous body for still finding him irresistible. “I know we shouldn’t have done that. That was my fault. But does that mean we can’t be friends?”

  I stared at him like he was an alien speaking a different language. Finally I said, “No, no we can’t be friends.”

  Foster actually looked hurt at my reply. “Why not?”

  “Because I love you, you idiot!” I spoke louder than I’d intended, and I glanced around, making sure there was no one to hear. Luckily, it was just me and Foster underneath the stone archway.

  Right, lucky, because heaven forbid anyone found out about us. Foster stood frozen, as if I were Medusa and he’d stared in to my eyes. Not a single word escaped from his lips for a solid two minutes. His eyes frozen and his body unmoving, he simply stayed in that position.

  I shook my head, feeling even dumber than I had before, and started to walk away. I didn’t need any more reasons for my heart to break.

  “Nora, wait!” Foster called out to me just as I was about to round the stone corner. I paused, unsure if I wanted to go back to him. Despite my body practically yelling at me to turn around and see what he wanted, my brain begged for relief. My mind knew that whatever Foster wanted would only lead to more heart ache.

  “What do you want, Foster?” I asked, keeping my back to him. My heart had won, but my mind still had some power. I leaned against the stone wall, refusing to look at Foster or walk back.

  “Is it so horrible that you love me?”

  I wanted to smack my head against the rocky wall that I leaned against.

  “It’s more than horrible. I can’t love someone I can never have. Every Monday and Wednesday are simultaneously the best and worst days of my week.” I sighed, giving myself a break so I didn’t burst into tears. Ungluing my eyes from the stone wall, I traveled up to the sky. Fall was upon us now, which meant cold air and overcast skies. The atmosphere was grey and gloomy, the only color coming from the bright orange trees.