Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 7

"Oh," He replies, trying to hide the surprise in his voice.

He probably wants to know why I don't have a computer when that seems to be something everybody has these days, but I've never been able to afford one. 

For a while, we walk in silence through the waning light of the late afternoon. 

When I glance at him through my hair Mr. Benedict's handsome face is lined in thought.

"How was your birthday?" He changes the subject.

"It was great," I smile. "Low key, just like I like it."

"Not a big partier?" 

"Uh, not really," I shrug and look up into his inscrutable dark eyes. "My friend Keri that you met yesterday? We're going to go out dancing next week, but I'm mostly going because it's the first time I'm legally allowed in a bar."

"Ah, twenty-one." Mr. Benedict chuckles amiably. "I was so proud to show the bouncer my ID only to discover it smelled awful in there."

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of," I giggle nervously. "Plus, I'm not a big drinker." 

I can feel his gaze on me, warming my cheeks in the nippy air. 

Soon the narrow concrete pathway opens into an expansive parking lot. The only car there is the one that Mr. Benedict was driving the night he offered me shelter from the rain. 

It's a silver late-nineties Volvo, which for some reason seems to fit him perfectly. 

Like a gentleman, he unlocks the passenger side door first and holds it open for me to climb inside.

An intoxicating scent envelops me the second I sit down, it's a subtle and masculine cologne with undertones of lilac and bergamot. 

"Where to?" He asks as he slides into the driver's seat.

It took me a second to collect myself because his subtly sensual cologne temporarily disabled all my other senses. 

"Um, one forty-three Glenview Drive," I rattle off Keri's address.

Will's car hums to life and we're off. 

"So, how's the essay?" He asks nonchalantly as we cruise out of the parking lot.

"Easy, like you said it would be," I study the shivering trees lining the road outside my window.

"I figured it would be, for you." Will's deep chuckle tickles my heart. "You're nothing like the other students I've had in the past."

The fact that he just called me a student stings, even though he's stating a fact. An uneasy silence settles around us and it seems that neither one knows what to say next. 

When I allow myself to peek over at Mr. Benedict, I catch his eyes on me before they snap back to the road. 

It's getting dark, but I think I saw a blush on his cheeks.

"What's next for you, Moira?" He asks finally. "I mean, once you're done at Green River?" 

"I'll probably transfer to online classes at the University of Washington for my bachelor's," I can't help the smile growing on my face. "Once I have a degree, I want to start my own clothing line."

"Wow, so you've already got a plan?" Mr. Benedict's voice is filled with admiration. "Well, that's more than most young people these days."

"Young people?" I snigger. "You sound like you're forty, but you don't look much older than me. Do you have some sort of Benjamin Button disease?"

I immediately regret my flippant joke. Despite our casual conversation, I can't forget that he's my teacher. 

I wasn't expecting Mr. Benedict to toss his head back and laugh, though.

"I'm twenty-five," he chuckled. "I graduated high school early and went straight on to college to get my master's. Like you, I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life."

"You always wanted to be a teacher?" I press.

Not to yuck someone else's yum, but I couldn't understand why a man who could be modeling in Europe would want to teach at some dumpy community college outside of Auburn. 

"No," he replies cryptically, "But I love the written word. I always thought I would be the one to write the next great American novel. But you know what they say, those who can't do, teach."

Now it's my turn to laugh at his self-deprecating comment. 

"Are you laughing because I want to write, or because you weren't expecting that?" He plays along.

"A little of both, I guess," I reply. "It seems weird that you say you can't write when you're so young."

"I've spent my life studying great writers, and trust me, mine isn't up to snuff," he says as Will turns the car into Keri's cul-de-sac. "Besides, talent and great stories come with age and experience. I'm waiting to have both of those before I try writing again. So until then, I'll teach."

"You know," I smile at him. "If history's great writers have taught us anything, it's that you don't need old age or great experiences, just a passion for the process, and maybe one or two great loves, or losses, to inspire you."

The car slows down far too soon in front of Keri's house, but instead of concluding our chat, Mr. Benedict turns to me with a glint in his eyes. 

The emerging moon has framed him in a nimbus of light that softens his chiseled features. 

Outside is Keri's lovely house and the real world. I need to go inside and wash my uniform, but I don't want our stolen moment to end. 

In fact, I don't think either of us does.

"I like that a lot," Mr. Benedict's low voice sends a tingle of hope straight into my core. "You have such a profound perspective on life, Moira that I think, actually, I know, that you've inspired me."

I gulp another nervous giggle and the sound echoes into the car to make us both laugh. 

In spite of the chill, he hops out and jogs over to my door to open it for me. 

"Thank you, Mr. Benedict," I smile nervously. "For the ride, I mean, that was very nice of you."

"Will," He whispers, his frosty breath inches from mine because he's holding the door in between us.

"What?"

"Call me Will," he insists.

"I can't," I confess. "You're my teacher."

"Ah, good point," the disappointment in Will's brief frown made my heart sputter. "Well then Ms. Stavros, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow in class."

"Good night Mr. Benedict," I immediately regret what I've done, but Will is already rolling his shoulders back to put distance between us. "See you tomorrow."

Without another word, I hustle for the front door. 

When I reach Keri's front stoop I glance back to find Mr. Benedict giving me a small wave from outside his car door. 

It's sweet that Will cares enough to make sure I get inside alright, but problematic. 

I'm sure it looks weird when I reach out to ring the doorbell instead of just using my keys to go inside, but it's not my home (technically).

Keri opens the door wearing pajama pants and an oversized track and field t-shirt from our high school. There's a look of total confusion on her face as she glances over my shoulder while I duck past her.