Beautiful Burn (2 page)

“Yeah.” I scratched the
stubble on my chin. “I've gotten a few emails about that already.
Tell you what, stop by my office tomorrow morning around ten if that
works for you and we'll talk it out.” I jumped at the chance to
spend time with her again, one on one time, like we used to.

“Ten is great.” She smiled.
“Thanks, Mr. West.”

“Anytime. See you tomorrow.”
I held her eyes for an extra beat, uncaring if she was tucked under
her boyfriend’s arm or not. He raised one eyebrow before I turned
and headed for the now dark parking lot. A few kids lingered, talking
and laughing as I slid into the love of my life, my freshly painted,
medium blue, seventy-one Blazer, and backed out of the dim lot. I
drove the darkened, twisting streets towards home as my mind fell
back to a time early this spring when I knew life had other plans for
me...

It had been
uncharacteristically warm for mid-April and the rain showers of early
spring were finally yielding fragrant, richly-colored blooms on trees
and in gardens. Sweat had trickled down my forehead as I watched her
flicking through her phone, perched in a lounge chair, chatting
mindlessly and filling the air with white noise in the form of local
gossip.

I knew this was it. Now was the
moment. But as I listened to her babble about the recently single
status of her best friend, I couldn't bring myself to tell her. The
overwhelming urge to push it aside and deal with the pain alone was
overpowering. And so I stood, hands in pockets, mind raging with
indecision, and I let her have her happiness. It wasn't been
happiness coursing through my veins, it was something else entirely.

My chest ached and shoulders
burned as I refocused on the road and pushed the memory of her from
my mind, something I'd been doing a lot of lately. Denial -- my
coping mechanism of choice.

I had no way of knowing that
tomorrow would be the first step in our fall.

Auburn
tapped on my door at five to ten the following morning. Always on
time and eager to please. She had a bright future, I was sure of it.

“Morning.” I set my pen
down and grinned, my heart picked up a few extra beats whenever she
entered a room.

“Morning.” She smiled
brightly before sliding a chair closer and plopping down in it. She
shifted, tossing her feet on the edge of my desk, white Chuck Taylors
loosely tied and slightly scuffed. I eased back into my chair,
relaxing into our old habit of easy conversation.

“Make yourself at home.” I
gestured with a playful grin.

“Thanks. You know, I kinda
miss this place.”

“Really?” My eyebrows shot
up. “College beaten you down already?”

“No,” she answered simply.
“I love it, but it’s good to be home. We’ve had so many great
conversations here. Hemingway to Cather…I remember everything.”
She slid a half smile my way as she mentioned a couple of our
favorite authors. I breathed a little easier knowing she remembered,
knowing it'd impacted her like it had me.

“How are your classes?” I
was conscious of maintaining professionalism despite my urge to delve
into more personal territory.

“They're all pretty good,
except algebra, for obvious reasons.” Her face twisted with
irritation. Auburn hated math, it was a weakness we shared and
something I'd revealed to her years ago when she was struggling with
a particular geometry teacher. “So how have you been these last few
years?

“Pretty good, thanks.” Good
was about the last thing I'd been, but now wasn't the time or place.
“So talk to me about what you're worried about with the project.”

“I just have no idea what to
write about.” She ran a hand through her hair. I couldn't even
count the number of times I’d watched her do that over the years in
my classroom. “You don't understand, I have the most boring life in
existence.”

“Ok, remember firstly the
story is fictional. I want it written in the style of a memoir --
inspired
by true events, and then expanded upon in a fictional
way,” I explained. She sighed and pulled her hair over one
shoulder, fidgeting again. “You just have to be inspired,” I
finished.

Her eyes caught my gaze,
drifted down to my mouth and back again before she continued. “I go
to school, I study, I work, I read books. No tragedies in my
past...I'm just boring.” She shrugged, as if distracted.

“Some of the greatest stories
ever told are about the everyday mundane experiences that we can all
relate to. Reading isn't always about escaping to faraway lands, the
best books are the ones that resonate on an emotional level. The
author and reader are connected by a tin-can string of words across
thousands of miles and hundreds of centuries.” She ingested my
words for a moment. “You just have to unearth the gems within the
everyday.”

“Hmm...” She squinted her
eyes at me, still skeptical. “Sage advice. I like your romantic
literary sensibilities,” as she shook a finger in my direction in
the dorkiest version of herself possible. Her silly sense of humor
had me smiling from ear to stupid ear. “There still needs to be
some drama though...” Her face was once again serious as she
returned to brainstorm mode.

“That's where the fiction
comes in,” I offered, feeling more invigorated than I had in too
long.

“And people like a love
story...” She was thinking out loud again. This exchange had become
equal parts creative and entertaining. Auburn and I had our own
language when it came to brainstorming. We seemed to share thoughts
and complete each other's sentences as we volleyed back and forth.

“Love is everlasting. Gatsby
spent his whole life pining for one girl. Bam! Greatest modern love
story ever told. What about that guy yesterday? Maybe there’s
something in there.” I was eager to get lost in casual conversation
and get my mind off of my life of late.

“Jake? Meh…he’s fun, but
there’s really no greater meaning to be mined there.”

I broke out in a loud laugh.
Her eyes caught mine before she joined me. “Why are you with him
then?”

She shrugged as her giggle
quieted. “He’s fun.”

“Sometimes fun is a good
thing,” I flirted.

“Fun can be a very good
thing,” her voice dropping as her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Sitting across from me now, she seemed much more grown up than when
I'd taught her before. My eyes drifted up from her shoes, the snug,
washed denim clinging to her legs, the dip of her waist, and the
swell of her breasts beneath the fitted tank and red plaid shirt she
wore untucked and open.

I chastised myself for looking
and averted my eyes. I couldn’t deny that she was attractive,
always had been. I also couldn’t deny that we’d always had some
sort of pull to each other. Never had it crossed into inappropriate
territory, but somehow Auburn and I, her teacher and nearly ten years
her senior, had a friendship, chemistry, an undefinable pull to each
other. An easy banter existed between us, one that I’d had with
different people before, but never with a student.

I swallowed and opted to
redirect the conversation. I suppose I considered Auburn a friend on
some level, but hearing about her current romantic relationships was
not something I was interested in. “So what are your plans for the
summer?”

“Nothing much. I usually
spend the summer near campus, but my grandma had a stroke, so I'm
home spending the summer with her. I'm helping her with cleaning and
cooking, taking her to therapy.” Her face softened as she spoke of
someone that was obviously very important to her. “I tried to get
Callie to come home with me, but she wouldn't hear of it.” I
vaguely recalled her shorter, mouthier best friend. “She's got a
job and a boyfriend.” Auburn waved a hand dismissively. She was
always so animated -- I'd forgotten that about her.

“No traveling? The beach?”

“The beach probably, but
traveling? No. Michigan is the asshole of the Midwest -- you have to
drive around a massive body of water to get anywhere worth going.”
She commented, flippant.

“Why would you want to drive
around it? We’re lucky to live on the Great Lakes. So much to do
with all that fresh water. Fishing, snowboarding, kayaking…have you
kayaked the shore? It’s an experience.”

“Mr. West, didn’t know you
were so active. A real go-getter.” Her eyes came alive when she
laughed.

I chuckled and replied. “I
spent a lot of my time wanting to get out, but at some point it
dawned that we live in one of the best places on earth. I want to
explore everything there is to offer in my own backyard before
escaping it.”

“Kayaking?” Her thumb
caressed the rough denim on her thigh subconsciously as she watched
me.

“It’s pretty awesome. I’ve
kayaked the shoreline of Lake Michigan in different spots, but my
bucket list is the Pictured Rocks on Lake Superior. Weaving in and
out of natural archways, waterfalls, and caves surrounded by
mineral-stained sandstone cliffs…” I finished languidly.

“Sounds beautiful.”

“It is. I’m sorry to cut
this short, but I've got an appointment at eleven. Maybe we can
continue this tomorrow?”

“I'll be here with bells on.”
She stood with a wink and a smile.

“I want to know how your
project goes though.” I stood and reached out to touch her elbow
but then thought better of it. “Email me, or we can talk after
class?”

She nodded and walked ahead of
me to the door. My fingers itched to dust along the curve of her back
to guide her. I clenched my fists at my sides and shook the
inappropriate thoughts from my head. It was important for a teacher
to stay calm, cool-headed, and make the right decision,
always
.
If I wanted to continue to guide Auburn with her writing, I’d need
to keep these sudden impulses to touch her in check.

Auburn paused, swiping her
tongue across her lips as she considered something. “Hey, Mr.
West?”

“Yeah, Auburn?” I shoved my
hands in my pockets, registering indecision in her eyes and something
else, something...promising.

“Maybe you could take me
kayaking sometime.” My fists clenched in my pockets, my surprised
mouth hung open, unable to form a word. Her dark chestnut eyes
dropped to my lips and lingered there before meeting my eyes again.
“I’d want to be with someone experienced the first time.” A
mischievous glint flashed in her eyes.

With those words, every ounce
of restraint I’d convinced myself I needed flew head-first out a
high-rise window. I cleared my throat. “Sure...” I opened the
door, desperate for space so my brain could return to its normal
functions. Auburn smiled at me softly as she brushed past, her long
hair floating down the hallway behind her as I watched, rooted and
riveted with an equally anxious and excited feeling rolling in my
stomach. Having Auburn in my life this summer may prove to be the
happy distraction I so desperately needed.

I drove the few miles home that
afternoon, my mind replaying the conversation I'd had with Auburn.
She'd asked me how I was and I'd glossed over it, but there was a
piece of me that wanted to open up to someone about what was inside
my head. And I had a feeling Auburn would listen. Even in high
school, she was never one to speak before thinking and always chose
her words carefully.

Pine-scented Michigan air
whipped through the cab of my Blazer as I drove the twisting miles
along the west bay, my mind falling back to the moment I'd finally
decided to make the change I'd been so desperate for.

“
What?!”
Her accusing eyes had spun to meet mine. She'd clutched at my hand,
held it so tightly in my own, as if holding on tightly would keep me
here, bound to her as I'd always been.

It wouldn’t.

“
I
want a separation. I know it’s cliché, but it isn’t you, it’s
me. I swear, Mel,” I pleaded with my wife as she sat hurling
insults from the overstuffed leather couch in our spacious
four-bedroom home.

“
Bullshit,
Reed. Fucking bullshit.” Her delicate hand had ripped from mine as
she stood and stalked across the room.

“
I
swear to you, Mel… I’ve been so fucked in the head lately.” I'd
followed behind her.

“
Stay
away from me.” The pain in her voice still resonated in the dark
chambers of my heart.

“
Mel.”
I'd reached for her. She'd shrugged me off then and shoved a palm
into my chest. I clutched as if she’d grabbed at my heart and
tightened it in a vice grip. It had felt like I couldn’t breathe,
it still felt like I couldn’t breathe most days.

“
Let’s
just talk for a minute,” I pleaded.

“
Talk?!
What have we been doing for the last year and a half in therapy?! Did
you just go to appease me? Because clearly you weren’t invested in
our marriage like I thought you were!” Her cold sneer rattled my
bones.

“
Oh
please, all we do is fight when we sit on that couch. Please, Mel. I
just need some time to think things through. After everything we've
been through…”