As we lie in bedlater that night, Summer’s soft breathing fills the room as I stare at the dark ceiling. The only light filters in through thewindow from the surrounding city buildings, casting a yellow glow around the bedroom. Despite the late hour, I can hear cars honking on the street below and the faint sound of music from an apartment across the street.
What Summer said about me being a hard-ass echoes in my head.
Am I a hard-ass?
I know that kids aren’t taking my class and bragging about how it’s an easy A, but do they dread each session? Should I draft up a study guide for the final exam? Are the average grades in my class lower because, instead of helping my students, I’m expecting an unreasonable level of performance from them?
How can I consider myself a successful educator when I’m more focused on difficult exams that boost my own ego than the success of my students? Maybe I’m not as good a teacher as I think I am if my tests are just about proving something to myself.
I stroke a hand over Summer’s hair. She makes a soft humming noise, and a cute smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she snuggles closer to me.
I’ve never enjoyed sharing a sleeping space with someone else. I usually get too warm or feel like spreading out. But with Summer it’s different. I want to be close to her at all times. I don’t mind that my arm loses all feeling as long as it’s wrapped around her. I don’t mind having to kick the blanket off of me and dealing with a little sweat as long as I get to inhale her vanilla lavender scent. I’d sleep on the edge of the bed, only giving myself a sliver of space, if it meant giving her all the space she desired.
I want Summer to know that I’m growing. As a partner. As a man. As an educator.
I slowly untangle myself from Summer, covering her with the comforter before making my way out into the living room, where my laptop sits on the coffee table. More city light cascades through the room, across the floor and couch.
I sit down on the black leather couch, the material creaking. I flip open my laptop but don’t turn it on; instead, I drum my fingers on the dark mahogany of the coffee table.
Am I really going to do this?
ShouldI do this?
My brain tells me I shouldn’t, but my heart wants to take Summer’s feedback seriously. I want to be a professor my students can look up to and feel comfortable coming to for help. I want to be better. Summer makes me want to be better in all aspects of my life.
And just like that, I’ve made up my mind.
I boot up the device, crack my knuckles, and begin drafting a study guide.
27
SUMMER
Asher came overto my apartment so that I could cook us dinner while he helped me study for the upcoming exam—even though my space isn’t designed for any sort of elaborate cooking. I stir the marinara sauce on the stove while Asher leans against a wall with Milo contentedly purring in his arms. He’s been sporadically quizzing me, but is now fully distracted by the five-pound feline against his chest.
She loves him for some unknown reason. Her eyes are closed, and her little orange and white face looks like she’s smiling; she’s so happy.
“What do you think about going out for dinner tomorrow?” he askssuddenly.
My spine stiffens as I freeze, the sauce simmering in front of me. “I would love to…” I respond slowly. “But we both know going out in public together probably isn’t the best idea until I’ve graduated.”
His face falls at the reminder that we are each other’s dirty little secrets. “I know,” he responds. “I was thinking we could head out of the city. Let’s go over to Bellevue. There’s a new restaurant there that I’ve been wanting to try, and I’d like to take you out on a real date… at least once.”
I walk over to him, and he sets a disgruntled Milo on the ground so that I can take both of his hands with mine. “Hey,” I say softly, meeting his piercing green eyes and offering a comforting smile. “We’ll get to go out on plenty of dates as soon as I’ve graduated. Honestly, we could probably start being more open once I’ve been assigned a clinic for practicum.”
He looks away from me. “None of this bothers you?” he demands. “Having to drive out of town to go out in public together?”
“I don’t think it’s as big a deal as you’re making it out to be,” I reply quietly.
“No?” he scoffs. “You enjoy being my dirty secret, is that it?” he asks, voicing my earlier thoughts. Though saying it out loud makes it sound uglier than it did in my head.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But I think it’s obvious that we have something special. Something that other people may never experience in their lifetime. And if we have to hide our relationship until I’ve graduated… I’m willing to do so. For us. I’d weather any storm with you.”
His eyes soften, the dark green the color of Washington’s pine trees before it snows. I place my hand against his cheek, and he leans into it. His eyes flutter shut, and he places a soft kiss against my palm. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he murmurs.
“Neither have I,” I admit.
He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he asks softly.
