Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 22

"Oh, hi."

"I have good news. My boss approved and you can finish my class from home," he sounds so genuinely happy that it makes me smile. "So, are you up for a field trip this Thursday?"

"I guess that's part of the deal, huh?" I giggle. "Thank you so much!"

"It's the least I could do," Mr. Benedict grows quieter. "Plainclothes on Thursday, alright? In fact, dress warm."

"Dress warm?" I suppress a snort. "Is this a field trip to Alaska?" 

His unpretentious yet masculine laughter fills my ear and magically eases the stress in my neck.

"Who's that?" My mom interrupts from next to me.

"Just a friend, Mom," I tell her.

"Oh! You're busy." Will coughs as the humor leaves his compassionate baritone. "I'll let you go. How about I pick you up on Thursday around four?"

"Um, can I meet you there?" I hedge and squirm in my seat.

"It might be easier if I drove," Will replies. "It's in Seattle."

"Could you pick me up at work?" I suggest.

"Perfect!" He accepts easily. "See you at the diner on Thursday at four. I'll follow up with your assignments and test schedule, too."

"Great!" I can't help the goofy grin hurting my cheeks. "Bye, Will."

"Goodbye, Moira." 

I clasp my shaking hands in my lap to try and hide the excitement bubbling in my bloodstream. 

I'm going to finish my AA on time because of Mr. Benedict. The thoughts in my head are tumbling like clothes in a dryer.

"Are you going out on a date?" My mom sounds excited.

"It's not a date," I reply. "He's just a friend."

"Alright," my mom's playful wink makes my tummy flip.

"He's just a friend!" I nudge her bony shoulder with mine. 

"When are you going out with your friend?" My mom bounces her eyebrows, undeterred.

"This Thursday," I reply. "I'll be sure to find someone to stay with you while I'm gone."

"Ugh, fine," she pouts.

She sulks for the rest of the ride home, but I'm on Cloud Nine. Tom gave my mom a second chance and I'm going on a field trip with Mr. Benedict. 

I'm trying to convince myself that he's just my teacher, but let's be honest, deep down, I like Fitzwilliam Benedict, and that's bad, for so many reasons. 

One, he's my English professor and at least six years older than me (maybe more). Two, I already have an overly complicated life. And, three, did I mention that he's my teacher?

Our dynamic is already fraught with all sorts of complications. Then there was that naughty tension that sizzled in the air between us whenever I got too close. In other words, our unlikely friendship was walking a fine line. 

When we get home my mom and I dug into the tortilla soup that Mrs. Gotlieb made. 

During dinner, my mind drifts back to Will and our mysterious field trip. A small part of me hopes that it's not educational.

I shouldn't entertain thoughts of Will's perfect lips when he smiles. And I definitely shouldn't feel the thrill of my heart racing whenever I picture his taught body and wide shoulders up at the front of the classroom. 

Letting my imagination wander is dangerous, especially when it comes to the tumultuous waters of Will's soulful gaze. If I'm not careful, I could fall in and drown. 

Besides, it's not like Will could ever be my friend. 

Seeing him at the Seattle Opera House just solidified how unobtainable he was. Mr. Benedict was cultured and educated, and he ran in powerful circles. I, on the other hand, come from the wrong side of Auburn.

Frankly, I didn't belong in his world and he didn't fit into mine. 

I can't get to know Will or allow my infatuation to grow, because ultimately, I know where this is going to lead.

That's why they call them crushes right? Someone always gets hurt in the end.

To get my mind off of Will, I call my grandparents and beg for their help. Someone has to watch my mom so that she can test clean next week. 

Convincing Agnes that I need her help is a battle. 

I can understand her hesitation. My mom's not an easy person to be around, especially when she's detoxing. Nobody was happy with the arrangement, but eventually, I convinced Agnes that we needed her to help this one last time. 

I have no idea what I'm going to do when I need help next week. For now, I'm going to take things one day at a time. 

As I'm plugging my phone in before bed it chimes with a new text. 

My heart leaps up into my throat as my face breaks into a toothy grin.

It's Will.

'Just sent you an email with details for assignments and tests,' it reads.

'Great,' I replied. 'I'll look tomorrow. Thank you again for doing this!'

'Of course. See you this Thursday. Goodnight, Moira.'

'Goodnight, Will.' I sent the safest reply my quivering thumbs could handle.