Broken

chapter nine

I watch the raindrops race down the condensed window panes, the darkness of the storm seeping into our classroom. Ezra stands at the front and clears his throat. The noise settles.

"I should have given you a fairer warning, but I was given much of one myself. I'm leaving Rosewood High."

Disappointment and anger should plague me, but it doesn't. There's a simple realisation he won't be here, but I'm completely devoid of much else. Some part of me knew it would happen eventually, but it was more a question of "when?" rather than "if".

"I don't have any details I'm afraid. I don't even know who your teacher will be. But I do want to say that I've loved every second of teaching here and I hope you'll all continue reading and writing. Good luck." He barely manages a smile.

"Aria?" Spencer appears behind me as I file my textbooks away into my locker.

"Hey, Spence."

"Are you okay?" She leans against the neighbouring locker, looking at me a little strangely.

"Yes...why?"

She looks confused. "No reason. I just thought with Mr Fitz leaving..."

I roll my eyes. "Spencer, how many times? I don't care what Mr Fitz does or does not do."

She apologises. "Forget I brought it up."

A month later.

On the second hour of my shift at the Brew, I'm sweeping the floor in the Reading Nook before the busiest hour arrives, when I feel a cool breeze blow through the open back door. I lean the sweeping brush against the wall, preparing to lecture the person who's decided to leave it open. But when I come face-to-face with them, I stagger back a few steps; time slows for a painful moment. I've almost forgotten what it's like to be in the same room as him.

He looks unkempt. His hair is a little longer, a little messier. The weak smile and the tired look in his eyes is something unfamiliar to me, and I'm unsure how to react. He turns and slowly trudges up the stairs.

The day after he left Rosewood High, he also left Rosewood. Since Nicole was left in charge of the Brew, things were much more difficult to endure. And I didn't even know if he was coming back. Even though I would have probably done the same thing in his position, it didn't stop the anger from sitting heavily on my chest every time I thought about the situation.

I know Nicole's at her parents' house today, so without hesitation I'm knocking on his apartment door, stupidity taking over me again. The locks click and the chain moves, he opens it with the look of surprised.

"Hey, are you-" he starts.

"We need to talk."

"Okay. Come in." He holds the door open for me, welcoming me in without hesitation.

"You don't have to explain anything to me if you don't want to," I say, "but why did you leave?"

At his suggestion, we sit on the sofa.

"You should know that I didn't resign from Rosewood high, I was fired. When Alison went to the Principal, she told him things about you and me. I don't know how she knew. A few days after you came home from the hospital, I had a call and I took it, thinking it was about what happened. But it wasn't. They fired me over the phone," he scoffs. "They said they wouldn't be pressing charges or investigating it, but the speculation as they called it, was enough to take precautions. They gave me time to get myself sorted financially, but I needed to get away, Aria. I didn't know if Nicole had something to do with it too...I just didn't know who to trust. Can you understand that?" He gently takes my hand.

"I can. But why didn't you tell me?

He shakes his head, "you had far too much on your plate. You're important to me, you know? I don't care about anything that Alison and Nicole say or do, as long as you're safe. You don't have to say anything." His voice is so quiet, I barely hear it.

I scoot closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry you were fired. It's all my fault."

"No. Hey..." He adjusts his seated position to look at me, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"What is it?"

"I..." he starts, but for some reason can't finish.

"You...?" I encourage.

He sighs. "It feels wrong of me to say it. I don't want to put any pressure on you. I know you were my student, but I...

"Feel like we're so much more than that," I finish, speaking of my feelings too.

"Exactly."

I kiss him. But I frantically pull away after realising what I was doing. I apologise too much and bury my face in my hands.

"Ezra, I'm so sorry. That wasn't right. I shouldn't have done that."

"Look at me," he says. He inches closer, his forehead resting on mine; our lips an almost-non-existent distance apart. "I don't ever want to hear you say you're sorry again," he whispers.

"I'm s-"

He quietens me with a kiss; one much softer than the first. This time he isn't my teacher, this time we don't think about the reasons why we shouldn't. He guides me from the sofa towards the kitchen counter, lifting me onto it as soon as we bump into it. He trails tender kisses along my neck and down to my collarbone, while I attempt to lift his shirt over his head. My hands trace his torso and move to the waistband of his jeans, but he pulls away.

"Should we...?" he looks at the stairs.

I nod.

He leads me by my hand to the bottom of the staircase, pausing for a moment before pressing me up against the wall. His palm rests flat behind me and his eyes bore into mine. He slowly unbuttons my shirt with his free hand, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

The sound of the door opening floods me with panic. Nicole. She stands at the door, her eyes darting between me and Ezra; her face glows crimson.

"Nicole I-" Ezra says, but she darts through the door without an answer, slamming it loudly behind her.