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He sighs and rubs a hand over his jaw. “Maybe you haven’t done anything yet, so in case you were thinking that all you have to do is get through this semester…” he trails off. “Teachers are prohibited from being in a relationship with any student at any time during their tenure. That means sophomores, juniors, and seniors are off limits as well. It’s not just your students.” He turns back to his computer, thankfully, because the look on my face can’t be controlled.
What? What kind of bullshit rule is that? I always thought that as long as the person in question wasn’t your actual student it might be frowned upon but wasn’t prohibited.
I realize I haven’t moved. I’m frozen in place, and he looks up at me with a knowing look. “Things get messy and the school just prefers a clean line. Black. White. No gray.”
“But that’s not how life works…the world is full of gray.” I hadn’t expected to argue but it tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“It’s how life works at CGU, Doctor Reed.”
I stare at one of the many pictures I have of her on my phone. She’s lying on her side in my bed, wearing my t-shirt. Her eyes are closed and she has a sleepy smile on her face. I snapped the photo and a moment later she was in my arms attacking my face with her lips. I’m just about to toss my phone to the side to avoid staring at her beautiful face a second longer when it comes to life in my hands. Even as I see the name flash across the screen I pray it reads something different. Had it been anyone else, I would have ignored it. With the exception of a short, pretty Italian girl that has taken up residence in my heart, this is the only person whose phone call I would take.
“Hey, Ma.” I try my best to sound like I’m not as depressed as I feel.
“My favorite son!” I can hear the smile in her voice and I know without even seeing her that she’s standing in the kitchen twirling the cord of the phone around her hand because “I have a house phone, why do I need to use my cellphone in the house? And also texting is for when you don’t want to hear someone’s voice. I always want to hear my babies’ voices.”
“I’m your only son,” I laugh. “But I know I’m also your favorite child.” I’m the oldest of three, with two younger sisters that drove my parents, and more importantly my mother, completely nuts. I, on the other hand, am the golden child that never gave them any issues.
“Oh, don’t say that. You know that upsets the girls.”
“Only because they know it’s true. What’s up, Ma?”
“I was just calling to see how you like D.C.? Is everyone nice? Is the traffic as bad as they say? Have you gone to the monuments? Have you seen Obama? I saw on the Twitter that he likes this particular ice cream shop and this restaurant on 14th Street.”
I laugh thinking about my mother’s fascination with the forty-fourth president. “No, unfortunately, I haven’t seen him. I have my eyes open though.”
“Picture and autograph, Aiden. You promised.”
“I know. I know.” I lean my head back against the chair and let out a sigh that I instantly regret remembering who I’m on the phone with.
The silence is deafening. Here it comes. “Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Try again. I know when something’s bothering you. And I know when it’s anything but fatigue. I saw you through four years of high school sports.” I’m silent and she speaks again. “Is it a girl?”
I’m instantly irritated that she knows me so well, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Chace probably told James who told my sister who told my mother that I had met someone. Or maybe it was mother’s intuition.
“Mom…” I trail off. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad. Speak. That stupid Corinne better not have contacted you.”
“No, Ma. I just…”
“Do you love her?” The word is on the tip of my tongue but I can’t make myself say it.
“I haven’t told her.”
“But you do.” I’m silent and she huffs. “Aidan Michael Reed, I don’t care how old you are or how many degrees you have, or the fancy suffix in front of your name. I will still ground the hell out of you for lying to me.”
“Oh really?” I chuckle as I grab another beer and take a large gulp.
“Does she love you?”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“What do you think the problem is?” My mother was smart and could read situations instantly.
