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I wait for her to expand, but she says nothing.
“And have you been?” I ask, softly.
It’s barely noticeable, but I catch it. Her breath skips a beat.
“Have I been happy?”
I nod, wordlessly answering her clarifying question.
Her eyes bore into mine quietly for so long that I start to think she’s not going to answer me. I let it drag on further until I’m just about ready to break the silence myself when her head shakes imperceptibly. It’s barely a movement, her answer communicated more by her eyes than anything.
“Me neither,” I answer, even though she didn’t ask me. But then I realize that’s not entirely true. “Except for a couple of notable moments.” I don’t look at her when I say it.
“Why do you teach if you hate it?”
Fuck, that’s a question with a complicated, impossible answer. It’s simpler to lie, so I do. I keep it vague, not wanting to create a whole fake backstory. I still want to be me when I talk to her.
“Family business.”
“Your parents were teachers?”
“Yeah,” I say, hiding my wince.
She nods thoughtfully, getting a faraway look in her eye.
“The weight of our parents’ aspirations and expectations is so crushing,” she muses. “I hope you get to make your dream come true.”
She turns to look at me when I don’t immediately speak.
“I hope you get to make yours come true too.” She turns away but I’m not ready to let her go yet. “Remember what I said about choices. You should do something that makes you happy tonight.”
She stops, looking over her shoulder at me. “Like what?”
The corner of my lip lifts and I shrug. “Anything really, but only you know the answer to what makes you happy.”
She bends to pick up a heavier kettlebell and drops into a deep squat with it held against her chest.
“Give me an idea.”
“I don’t know, doing something you wouldn’t usually. What about going for a midnight swim in the pond?”
Her lips curl and she turns to look at me, a genuine smile pulling at her mouth. I find I’d be willing to take on a couple Herculean tasks to make that happen again.
“I’m not kidding,” I say, my tone light. “Try doing something exhilarating like that, something that’ll make you feel alive.” I tilt my head, examining her. “I was going to suggest doing something illegal like stealing or breaking and entering, but you don’t strike me as someone who breaks the rules often.”
“I don’t know, you’re a pretty big rule break,” she points out saucily. “I assure you, I don’t often go around fucking my professors.”
I take a step towards her. “Often?”
She drops into a squat. “Ever,” she says, coming back up. “But don’t worry, I’m done with teachers. That was a fun experiment while it lasted but, in the end, your lot are just too complicated. I don’t have time for that so I’m going to stick to age-appropriate men from now on.”
“You mean prepubescent boys who have no idea how to make you come?” I growl, my temper flaring.
Her gaze narrows on me, her tongue as sharp as mine.
“I don’t know,” she bites, her tone taunting. She squats, my eyes tracking her compulsively down and back up. “I think you’ve taught me a thing or two. I’ll just make sure they go down on me first, that seems to do the trick.”
I’m across the room in the next second, my hand wrapping warningly around her throat. It turns out I’m there just in time to catch her as she stumbles on her way up from a squat.
