The Art of Forbidden Romance (Student x Teacher)

Chapter 36

I sat down in the chair Chuck pulled out for me. The Dean of the Arts College sat down across from us, along with the president of the university. Campus police officers filtered into the room and joined us at the conference table. I swallowed hard, trying to calm the anxiety in my stomach. Chuck looked over at me and gave me a soft smile that I returned. I wanted him to hold my hand or touch me - anything to help calm my nerves - but we couldn't do that; not here.

"Thank you all for coming, and thank you Miss Smith for coming back to campus so soon so we could discuss this," the Dean of the Arts College started. I nodded and he continued.

"We're here to discuss the incident from last Monday, November 21st, that occurred in the painting studio, classroom B114, at approximately nine forty-five pm," the Dean continued. "We have expelled the culprit, Zac Winslow, and have marked him as ineligible for readmission across all CalState schools. He has been served with a restraining order from the campus, and documents have been put in order for a personal restraining order for Miss Smith."

I nodded, tears pricking my eyes again.

"We will be offering you a blanket m extension on your classes to help as you recover," the Dean said. I nodded again, fidgeting with my cast on my hand.

"We are working to put in other safety measures in place as well to protect you and other students from this happening again."

"Thank you," I said softly. "I don't know what to say other than thank you."

———

I spent the day on campus, trying to get all my things and talk to all my teachers. Many students had heard about what had happened, and a few other girls came up to me about Zac and what they had been dealing with. I felt terribly for these other girls, but we became a small support group for one another. Other students stared - they didn't say anything. Their glances in the hallways made my stomach twist.

I met with Andy in his office and worked out a plan for my remaining paintings. Chuck advised me not to worry about his classes and that he'd take whatever I felt I could do for the rest of the semester.

I called Angela and filled her in on what happened. She had heard on the news about the incident but didn't know I was involved. I told her I wanted to come back next week and she told me to just see how I felt and not to push myself. I was thankful for the break from work as I was already exhausted, but the circumstances were not ideal.

I tried to work on homework and studying the rest of Monday and all day Tuesday, forcing myself to stay awake as my eyes continually fluttered shut from exhaustion. My right arm itched insistently from the cast and I used chopsticks to scratch inside.

Wednesday night, I sat on the couch in my living room, working on my ninth painting for Andy's class again. I was finalizing some details now that the painting was mostly dry. There had been some damage to the canvas in the scuffle with Zac so I had to repair the holes in the canvas and rework most of the painting.

I had wrapped my cast in a plastic bag, so it wouldn't drag through paint or scratch the painting. Holding my paintbrush wasn't excruciatingly painful, but it was uncomfortable. My hands had developed a tremor and I found myself having to redo small details multiple times. The doctors said my hand would take at least a month to heal and I was already counting down the days.

Once I finished my painting I set the canvas to dry on the coffee table for now. I packed up my supplies and then laid back on the couch. Mel was still at school so I took the time to unwind. My phone buzzed and I looked at it.

Do you want me to pick you up? We can spend some time together this weekend.

I sighed. I wanted to see Chuck, but I was exhausted. I put down my phone without replying and let my eyes flutter shut.

In reality, not being able to paint properly was killing me and anxiety had started to form in my head as to whether the hand tremors would ever go away. I wanted just to sit in my room until my hand was healed and I could go back to normal.

And for the rest of the week I did just that. I stayed in my room, the door closed and lights off through the weekend. I slept most of the time, but when I didn't I cried. I held myself and cried as images of Zac and what happened ran through my mind. The few times I left my room were to get water or go to the bathroom.

———

On Monday morning I woke up for classes and got dressed. As I brushed my teeth I examined my injuries in the mirror. My bruised cheek had cleared up significantly in since the accident almost 2 weeks ago;. only a yellow shadow lingered now. I tilted my head up to check on the bruise and chafing that my shirt had left on my neck that night and it too was mostly healed. I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from crying, and washed my face gently.

When I came out into the kitchen Mel jumped up  from the table where she was drinking her morning coffee, shocked to see me out of my room. She stared at me as I went to the fridge.

"You should stay home," she said. I awkwardly opened the fridge with my left hand. I looked up from the fridge.

"I need to get back into things," I said softly. Mel opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it.

"What?" I asked her. She shook her head. I sighed and turned back to the fridge, grabbing a red bull in the hopes it would help clear the residual exhaustion from my body.

"You know Chuck doesn't care if you miss his class," Mel said. I nodded.

"I do though," I said. I took a long sip from my drink. "I just want to get back to normal."

"I know, but you shouldn't push yourself," Mel said. "What you went through is extremely difficult and no one will blame you for taking time to recover - physically and mentally."

"I need to get back into a routine."

"Okay," she said. "Let me drive you at least."