First Man (18 page)

The words came from nowhere as we hovered between sleep and wakefulness, ripping apart the illusion of safely and surety we had built over the last month. “We have to end this,” Ember whispered, and my arms tightened around her waist.

“Why?” It was barely a breath, but she heard the hurt in my voice.

She twisted in my embrace until she was facing me. “Because someone is going to find out and this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

“I really could give a damn.”

“You’re such a liar,” she countered. “You love your job.”

I sighed. “Only when I’m blessed with students who actually care about more than just
passing
.”

“I’m serious, Adam.”

“So was I.” I absently coiled a lock of her pale hair around his finger. “I know I should be noble and put a stop to this for both our sakes, but I. . . can’t.”

“You won’t,” she corrected.

“No, I
can’t.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose against the impending headache. “I love you, Ember. Not because you’re beautiful or sexy or whatever adjective you can think of.”

“Then why?” she interrupted.

I laughed bitterly, nothing more than a soundless escape of air. “Because the alternative is unthinkable.”

“I do think about it.” Some look of hurt must have crossed my face before I could conceal it. Her expression softened. “Not the way you’re thinking. I don’t want this to end anymore than you do, Adam.” She blinked, and I could see the faint glint of moisture in her eyes. “I love you because you’re a sarcastic ass sometimes and you’re the smartest person I know, and when you kiss me, I can’t breathe. But we both know how this story is going to end!”

“We’re careful.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “We’re careful. But it just takes one slip-up. One moment where we forget about the rest of the world, and your life here is over.”

I knew she was right. If either of us had possessed any amount of foresight we would have ended it then and there. I was a grown man who should have been able to hold his lust in check for the scant few months she had left until graduation, but when she looked at me illusions of propriety faded into nothingness.

Ember didn’t force the issue, and the words spoken in darkness and fear were forgotten by morning.

The words weren’t forgotten though, not really.

They hovered in my mind as I went through the banal routines of my life. She was right, of course. Familiarity had made us both grown bolder, the discretion we promised ourselves fading into nothing when need took hold.

The thesis was finished, a neatly bound copy resting on my desk. Ember’s obsession with the paper had pushed up her timetable, and, just like with the first draft, she’d finished a week early. I’d spent the past few days searching for any journals to submit it to, wanting to give her the validation of seeing the work in print.

Her graduation was crawling closer with each day. Any time without her would be torment, but she was still right. Melodrama suited neither of us, but love makes fools and poets of us all.

For weeks, I poked at that thought, worrying at it like a sore tooth before and elderly neighbor’s innocent question forced the issue.

“This ends now,” I said, finality in my voice like a gavel's echo at a sentencing. I saw the look immediately flash in her eyes, saw the stubbornness that I had grown to adore. I had always liked the challenge, but not this time. This time, I wished she was docile and easy to get along with. She wasn’t, and that was why I loved her.

“No.” No reasoning, just a simple refusal, an acknowledgment of how things would not be. I opened my mouth to state more empty protests that made so much sense when she wasn’t standing in front of him with lips that looked like pink vinyl and sin and perfection. “You’re such a hypocrite sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?” Genuine incomprehension.

“What I mean is, I tried to give you an out weeks ago, and you didn’t take it. You didn’t want to take then, and you don’t want to take it now.”

“I wasn’t aware there was an expiration date,” I snapped. One unfortunate side effect of living in a sleepy little town was the inevitable gossip. Bad weather and too much free time meant that Ember’s comings and goings to my apartment weren’t as clandestine as we both imagined. I had the unfortunate luck to live on the same floor as an elderly woman who made it her duty to watch the front door and make a note of everyone who entered.

“Pretty girl you’re seeing,” she had said to me on the stairs that morning. “Looks a bit young for you though. She looks a bit familiar to me. What’s her name?”

I’d stammered an excuse about being late and hurried to my car. I doubted the old woman had meant anything by it, but all it would take was one comment overheard by the wrong person about the tall blonde seen sneaking in and out of my apartment at all hours of the night.

Ember sat down on my desk, looking unimpressed. “She’s an old lady. No one’s going to pay any attention to a thing she says.”

“No one needs to pay attention, but all it takes is a rumor.”

“You worry too much.” Ember grabbed to front of my shirt and pulled me closer, and my traitorous brain forgot everything except how conveniently flat my desk was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked warily, as her hands began a slow decent down my chest.

“Nothing at all,” Ember replied, though her actions belied those words. “Everything started in here, and I’m not going to let myself graduate without doing this at least once.” She tried and failed for a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Should I call you ‘Professor?’” she asked coyly.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I murmured, relaxing under her gentle touch.

“But maybe I want to.” Ember’s playful tone made every thought of being found out slip from my mind. The thick sweaters were finally stowed away for good as the last threads of winter gave way to spring. She wore a simple white button-down shirt over a deep plum skirt that swirled around her knees. “See something you like?”

“Many many things.” One by one, I unfastened those small white buttons, revealing the pale lace of her bra. I glanced at the door, double checking that it was firmly shut before turning my attention back to the siren reclining on my desk.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, Professor,” she purred. “This desk.” She ran her hand along the smooth surface of the wood. “What we could do with it. I’m surprised it took us this long.”

“The last thing I wanted was for you to think of me as your teacher anymore than you already did.” Ember lifted one long leg into the air, hooking the heel of her black boot around my hip and drawing me closer.

The look on her face softened briefly before returning to that teasing expression. “You won’t be my teacher much longer. Soon this will just be a story we tell at dinner parties.”

We hadn’t talked of the future much. It was unspoken that Ember would leave for college in the fall, but beyond that nothing. We both still lived in these stolen moments, and speaking of more seemed to risk blighting our future before it had the chance to grow.

Pressed between the warmth of her thighs, the future slipped away and the past was forgotten. Ember made quick work of my belt and then it was all heat and gasps. The hard surface of the desk couldn’t have been comfortable, but if it bothered Ember, she certainly didn’t show it. The heavy desk groaned under our movement, and we were so lost in each other that neither of us noticed the click of the door opening and closing just as quickly.

Just like that, it was over.

A sharp rap sounded on my door. “Just a moment,” I replied, shuffling through the stack of tests I needed to finish grading tonight. Ember had left an hour ago to study for the first of her finals.

“Adam.” I glanced up to see the principal standing in my doorway, regarding me with a cold expression on his face. “We need to talk.”

My blood froze at those words.
‘He knows,”
my mind screamed. Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady and my face calm. “Certainly sir. What seems to be the problem?”

Principal Geoff Moore pulled the door closed behind him and sat down in the chair opposite my desk, a pained look on his face.

“There have been. . . allegations, Adam,” he began, watching my expression warily. “About improper conduct with a student. I need you tell me if they’re true of if it’s just a case of a teenager not liking you and failing to understand the damage an accusation like this can do.”

In three years, I’d developed a good rapport with the man. We weren’t close, but he’d always been a fair employer who genuinely seemed to want what was best for the school and the students. I respected him far too much to lie.

If I denied it, an inquest was inevitable. My every action would be scrutinized and Ember’s reputation would be dragged down with me.

“It’s true,” I said, those two quiet words becoming the final nail in my coffin.

“Dammit Adam!” Principal Moore’s pained look had changed to one of disgust in the blink of an eye. I’d gone from being a colleague, potentially victimized by a vindictive teenager to a predator in the space of a minute. After the outburst, he sobered immediately, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind of how best to avoid a scandal. “Is it Ember Pierson?”

“Yes.”

“Well at least there’s the small miracle that she’s eighteen,” he spat. “You couldn’t have kept it in your pants for a few more months until she graduated?”

I didn’t bother replying. There was nothing I could say to defend my actions. Love wasn’t an excuse.

“You’re fired. Effective immediately. I want your office and classroom cleared out within an hour.”

I nodded numbly, wondering what I would tell Ember.

“The girl’s parents will be notified. If you try to see her again, the school will press charges.”

“I’ll leave town,” I said. “I’ll leave tonight but keep her name out of this. She earned every grade I ever gave her.” A flicker of loathing crossed his face, and my anger cut through the cloud of numbness. “Don’t do that. Think whatever you want about me, but leave her out of it.”

He shook his head. “If you cared so much about her reputation, you should have thought about that before you screwed one of your students. It’s our responsibility to inform her parents about something like this.” Principal Moore rose from the chair tossing the words, “I’ll be back in an hour to escort you off the property” over his shoulder as he stalked away.

The door had barely closed and my phone was in my hand, dialing the familiar number. It rang and rang, finally playing her voicemail message, “You’ve reached Ember. Leave me a message or leave me alone!”

I barely recognized my own voice when I spoke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen. I love you, Ember. Don’t doubt that for one moment. Everything between us was real, but I have to leave. This is your home, and I won’t be the person that turns you into a bloody cautionary tale that gets thrown around in the faculty lounge.” I paused, trying to hold it together and failing miserably. “You deserve a lot more than an emotionally damaged idiot like me. Go have that amazing life you talked about and forget me.”

I pressed End Call and stared at the dark screen before turning the phone off. I didn’t trust myself to ignore the calls I’d inevitably be receiving as soon as she heard that message.

It barely took me ten minutes to pack up the few personal items I kept in my office. I stuffed a copy of Ember’s thesis into my bag before walking out without another backward glance, alone.