“Yes, and knowing that she and I are close, is that somehow relevant to your interests?” Joelle won’t come right out and say it, but I realize she’s on to me in a way that I know isn’t right. Joelle thinks I’m interested in getting to her through her daughter, Emmaline.
“No, it isn’t, Joelle,” I tell her. That’s the truth.
“Did you tell her about us?” Joelle asks. She is a worried mother right now, and I feel for her.
But that’s all I feel for her. I’m shocked at how devoid of spark I am right now. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no us to discuss, beyond that friendship which has already been mentioned.”
Joelle scoffs. But she doesn’t say anything else.
“It means nothing to me now. If you’ll excuse me,” I clear my throat and indicate the enormous stack of papers on my desk. “I have grading to continue.” I walk toward the door and open it for her.
Joelle walks out and I feel such finality. I had already thought that my feelings for Emmaline didn’t concern Joelle. Now, I know.
But what the fuck am I supposed to do now…I realize that I care far too much about Emmaline. My passion will certainly overwhelm her, but we’re in too deep. I know how she reacts to me. I crave her the way she aches for me.
Emmaline
This hard maple entrance leads me to the fortress of a mansion that my professor lives in. The teacher crush that I can’t get out of my head lives in this mansion! I can’t handle this for a second, my hand is shaking and I wish it would spontaneously start raining so I’d have an excuse to fling myself at my door.
But I decided that even if this is bad for me or not, this is what I'm going to do. I need to be able to knock on this door, and throw myself at him. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I want to give my professor my virginity.
Ethan is my teacher.
Ethan is my fantasy.
And right now?
Ethan is about to take my virginity. That’s why I came here. My best friend Delia’s right, I need to just get him out of my system. Get this insane attraction out of my mind and move past all of this.
Taking my virginity…
I thought about it as me giving it to him, but that’s just not true. Sure as my heart is thundering in my chest like it is on an endlessly climbing loop to its own doom, so is my innocence. It isn’t just some outmoded idea in the things that I study in college. No, everything about his experience is about to undo my innocence, up on the altar. Because I’m offering this experience up to my soul in hopes that I can forget him.
I knock on the door. A few seconds feel like an absolute eternity, and then he opens the door. Watching it open and reveal his gorgeous face makes the world speed up around me with no time for me to catch up. Extending his hand for me to follow him, I walk inside and breath heavy. Oh God, this is really happening. Please, God, let this be happening. I need this.
“Let’s sit, in the library,” Ethan says. His voice makes me jump out of my skin almost; I’m humming so much at being here. At being near him. We’ve already crossed over the barrier. Having me in his home is just another check mark in the list of things that mean if you throw yourself at him, he’ll have you.
I follow him down the hall. No family photos on his walls like a lot of people have in their house. The off-white walls lead up to rich cream crown molding. The walls are blank mostly save for some framed typography, which is not too surprising that he’s an English and literature professor. I want to read every lithograph and manuscript page as I pass them all ... but Ethan's hand reaches out for mine for all of three seconds before we are in the library and I can’t breathe, much less crane my neck while I walk to read what words adorn his walls.
Inside his library, we sit across from each other in some of the wingback chairs he has atop the intricate rug and ensconced along the wall-to-wall leather bounds that would normally catch my attention. Right now the only thing I can look at is Ethan. Sitting, I smooth out the end of my dress. I hope that I look sexy and sophisticated, but in this gorgeous library, in Ethan's house looking at him in his sleek trousers and crisp shirt, I look like a little tart trying to pounce the hot professor. I look young and dumb. I gulp. “I’m here because I know we’re both attracted to each other. So, one night together…I want to give myself to you once so I won’t be so obsessed, and then we can both move on,” I say, the words spilling out of me so fast I feel foolish. I dare myself to maintain eye contact with him the entire time. It makes the heat on my face from my embarrassment feel punishingly sensual.
Ethan's lips curl into a smirk that could end me if I looked at it for another second. “One night with me…that’s not going to be enough,” Ethan says with a smug grin that incinerates me. He’s so sensual, so beyond sexy that I think I might burst into flames right here.
“If that’s the case, why are you single?” I say with a laugh. He’s so sexy when he’s bragging and smug.
“Why are you single?” Ethan asks now, and it isn’t just some laughing banter like I offer. He’s serious.
I tell him the truth. “I think most guys are boring,” I say, realizing how depressing that sounds. That’s the truth though. And how could the
y compete when Ethan has lived this full life and they’re still worried about scoring weed and going to keggers? They can’t compete with that, and I have zero interest in any of that sort of shit guys my age do.
“What interests you about me, Emmaline?” Ethan asks, in that voice that seems to envelop me.
When he says my name I think I might faint, I get so lightheaded. Oh, God, how do I answer that question?
Ethan crosses a leg over to rest his ankle on his other leg.
A casual move that somehow manages to make me even more nervous.