Count to three: My affair with my dynamics professor (teacher x student)

Chapter 6

A shiver ran down my spine. I didn't respond, just lowered myself onto a nearby rock, watching her as she stared at the lake. The quiet between us now felt heavier, but not uncomfortable — more like the air just wanted to hold something unspoken.

She dipped her fingertips into the lake, disturbing its stillness with slow ripples.

"I'm really grateful, you know," I said after a while, my voice barely above a whisper. "For showing me this place. And for teaching me. Riding, I mean. Or... anything, really."

She didn't look at me at first. "I can tell you're really trying," she said eventually. "Most people want to be good right away. Or they give up. But you... you're different."

My heart swelled, caught between pride and something softer, more dangerous.

"It's because I have a good teacher," I said. And I meant every word of it.

She gave a small huff of laughter, shaking her head. "Flattery," she said. But there was warmth there, in the curve of her mouth, in the softness of her voice. Then, after a beat: "But I'm enjoying it too. Teaching you."

The way she said it — slow, deliberate — did something strange to my chest.

I looked down at my sleeves, fiddling with a loose thread. "Do you teach a lot of people?"

She exhaled, looking back at the water. "No," she admitted. "I don't."

Silence stretched between us again, but this time, it felt heavier, charged. I didn't know what to say—or maybe I was afraid to say anything at all. I just watched her: the way her eyes darkened slightly in thought, the way the corners of her mouth twitched like she was debating whether to say more.

Finally, she turned back to me, her gaze holding mine. "But I think I chose right," she said quietly.

My breath caught, just for a second. The words settled between us, warm and lingering. I didn't know what to do with them, so I just nodded, feeling the weight of something unspoken pressing into my skin.

"Thank you," I whispered. I didn't know if I meant for teaching me or for something else entirely, but I thought she understood.

Inés watched me for another long moment before standing up and dusting off her hands. "Come on," she said, offering me her hand. "Let's ride back before they think we ran off into the woods forever."

I took her hand, letting her pull me up. But as we made our way back to the horses, I couldn't help but feel like a part of me wanted to stay there a little longer. Or maybe, stay there with her.

As we rode back through the forest, I let the steady rhythm of Versailles' hooves calm the lingering restlessness in my chest. It felt peaceful—until Inés turned her head slightly toward me, her expression unreadable.

"Frida," she began, her voice as composed as ever, but with a distinct note of amusement beneath it. "Might I ask—what, exactly, happened back in the dressing room?"

I nearly groaned out loud. My grip on the reins tightened slightly. "Oh no. We are not doing this."

She exhaled something that was not quite a laugh, but close. "I only ask because I have rarely seen someone so determined to avoid looking in my direction. I thought, perhaps, I had startled you in some way."

"You didn't startle me," I insisted, though even I didn't sound particularly convincing. "I just—wasn't expecting it. That's all."

She nodded slowly, as though considering my answer. "I see. And this lack of expectation was so overwhelming that you found it necessary to turn your back to me entirely?"

I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "I was trying to be respectful!"

Her lips pressed together, and for a moment, I thought she might let it go. But then she tilted her head just slightly, watching me as though she found my response genuinely fascinating. "I appreciate the effort," she said, the faintest trace of amusement still lingering in her tone. "Though I confess, I have never been treated with quite so much reverence for doing something as ordinary as changing my clothes."

I sighed, shaking my head as I stared straight ahead at the winding path before us. "Alright, fine. I'm sorry if I acted weird. I was just... caught off guard."

Inés watched me for a moment longer, then gave the smallest nod. "Apology accepted."

Eager to escape the topic before she could say anything else that made my face burn, I cleared my throat and grasped for something—anything—else to talk about. I ended up rambling about a recent scandal involving high administrative costs at the uni.

After we finished tending to the horses—brushing them down, checking their hooves, and making sure they were comfortable in their stalls—I gathered my things and stepped out into the crisp afternoon air. Inés lingered behind, speaking softly to Shagya as she ran a hand down his neck, and I hesitated for just a moment before offering her a small wave.

"See you next time," I said.

She glanced at me, her expression unreadable as always, but there was a quiet warmth in her voice when she replied. "Take care, Frida."

I nodded and turned away, making my way toward the bus stop just outside the university grounds. The ride home was quiet, the bus only half full, and I settled into a window seat, pulling a book from my bag. As the city drifted by in blurred streaks of light and movement, I tried to focus on the words in front of me, but my mind kept wandering—back to the lake, back to the sound of Inés' voice, back to the way she looked at me just before we parted ways.

I shook my head, exhaling softly, and forced my attention back to the page. The story was easier to grasp than the thoughts spinning in my head.