Lessons in Desire: A Student/Teacher Romance

Chapter One

Evelyn

Pulling my suitcase off the bus, I straighten and smile at the sight before me. Crescent Springs University, known more commonly as CSU, is definitely a sight to behold. It’s a beautiful building with towering gothic spires that reach high into the sky, each one intricately carved and decorated in a manner befitting of the gothic revival period. The windows are tall, arched, and made of stained-glass that provides a pop of colour against the brown stone walls.

It”s beautiful, a true work of art and I cannot wait to study here.

After spending an entire year within the boring, grey walls of a community college in the middle of my small hometown, this place is a breath of fresh air.

Pulling my suitcase along, I enter the main building where the dorms are located, and a flutter of excitement stirs. Bree, my best friend since the dawn of time, doesn’t even know I’m here. She was the one who convinced me to apply for the scholarship and when I got it, she was the one who convinced me to take the plunge and transfer. Your dad will be fine, Ev. Do something for yourself for once.

And she thinks I’m not coming until tomorrow and being the good friend that I am, I decided to surprise her by coming up early.

A smiling woman who works for the accommodation team directs me to my room, pointing me to a set of stairs. After struggling with my suitcase up two flights of stairs, I finally reach my room. My grin grows as I knock, my knuckles rapping on the wood, and wait. After a second, the door is pulled open to reveal Bree. The second she sees me her black eyes widen comically, and I laugh as her jaw pops open.

“Ev?” She whispers and pulls me into a crushing hug. We haven’t seen each other in almost a year. CSU, being the prestigious Ivy league it is, has a brutal schedule with a heavy workload, and an even heavier exam timetable. Pair that with her parents yearly holiday vacations and we simply haven’t had the time to see each other.

“Surprise!” I say into her shoulder as she squeezes me tighter. “Okay, Bree, I need to breathe a little.”

She pulls back. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?”

“Well, I wasn’t but then I decided to come early and surprise you. You know, like a great best friend.” I smile.

She shakes her head, the halo of tight brown coils bouncing with the movement. “Best gift ever.”

Just then, I spy movement behind her and suddenly, my brows are rising. “Is that the famed Abel?”

Her smile turns softer, her brown skin glowing with her feelings, her eyes sparkling. Bree has always been like that, an open book. Every emotion she feels is plain as day on her face. “Maybe.” She whispers and drags me into the room.

Abel walks forward with a smile on his face, his tall, lanky form easily towering over the two of us. He’s got long brown curls that fall down his face like water, curling in soft currents of brown along his cheekbones and his jaw is covered in a blanket of scruff. He is just as Bree described him; a quiet, music type with a kindness to him you can see in his form.

He holds his hand out and I shake it, my grip firm giving him that if you hurt my friend stink eye.

“Hey, it’s good to finally meet you. How was your trip?” He asks.

I scrunch my nose. “Hot and sticky but what more can you expect in August in Louisiana?” I think back to the bus, the bus that had no AC and shake my head. “Luckily, it was only a two-hour ride.”

Bree’s eyes flicker between us as we chat. “This is so weird.”

Abel grins and slips a hand around her shoulders. “How come?”

“It’s like two parts of me, two separate parts are colliding.”

I laugh. “Well, me and Abel are going to be best friends. Just you wait and see.” Walking further into the room, I take a breath. “This is a nice room.” It’s small and cosy and exactly what you’d expect from a dorm with off-white walls and two wooden beds at either side, paired with a desk and a wardrobe each. Bree’s side is already decked out in pink, her signature colour and my side is just waiting for a splash of personality.

I couldn’t be happier and yet I also can’t seem to stop the worry circling my gut. It’s like a splinter, lodged sharp and deep, an annoyance that won’t go away as thoughts of my dad circle my mind like water circling a drain. It’s three p.m. which means he’s probably passed out on the couch, a beer bottle still clutched in his dirty fingers.

It took me weeks to accept the offer to come here because it meant I would have to leave him to fend for himself. He won’t have me to pay the bills, or do the grocery shopping, or the cooking and cleaning. He’ll have to do it all himself … which I already have major doubts about.

But in the long term it makes sense.

I have a plan. I’m going to major in finance, a subject I loathe but one that will guarantee me security, work my ass off and get enough extra credits to graduate early and get a job where I’ll never have to worry about bills or food again.

Maybe then, he’ll stop drinking.

I push the worry away. My plan is a good one, a great one even, and it’s already on track to work considering I managed to get a TA position for this year, which will go a long way for graduating early. I cannot screw this up because I’m worrying about my drunk of a dad.

Placing my suitcase on the bare bed, I turn to Bree. “I’m so glad we’re roommates.”

“Me too,” she shakes her head, “I was dreading ending up with another girl like last year.”

“Surely she couldn’t have been that bad.” Bree tends to be a little, somewhat, dramatic.

“She was!” Bree shivers. “Anyway, let’s not talk about that. Have you chosen which classes your taking?”

“Yep.” I smile. “I’ve chosen a whole bunch of math and finance ones—”

“Ev!”

“What?”

She looks exasperated, her face twisted down into a scold. “You don’t have to choose a major until the end of the year and I know you have this whole plan, but you should spend this year to do subjects you actually like. You know, like art.”

I shake my head. “No. What I should be doing is choosing classes that are going to maximise my earning potential. Meaning the classes that will make me money. You know, that green stuff that makes the world go round?”

She throws a pillow at my head, and I grin. It’s the one thing in life that we cannot agree on—money vs passion and for Bree, passion will always come first. And though we grew up in the same small town going to the same schools and being the closest of friends, we still had vastly different upbringings. Bree’s parents are the textbook high school sweethearts turned business success, raising Bree and her siblings with love and laughter. I, on the other hand, am the product of two drunks with no protection who now has a drunk dad and a dead mom.

Bree wants more for me, she wants me to follow my passions like she can.

I start unpacking my stuff, hanging the few bits of clothing I have in the wardrobe and placing all my art stuff on my desk. “Anyway, if it eases your mind, I do have an Art History class that I’m TA’ing for. That’s my fun one.”

Bree laughs, shaking her head. “So, let me get this straight, the only enjoyable subject you’ve taken is the one you have to work in?”

I nod. “All work and no play makes Evelyn a happy girl.”

“You can’t actually mean that!”

“I like to work! Makes me feel, I don’t know, productive.”

“Oh, Ev.” Bree says softly, love clinging to the syllables.

“Being an Art History assistant will be fun!” I say, easing her worries. “From what I’ve read up it has a focus on architecture too, which is so interesting.”

“Is that the one with Professor Callaway?” Abel says from his place beside Bree.

I pull out my timetable before nodding. “Yep, that’s the one.”

“Ah, I’ve heard he’s a total smoke show.” Abel grins.

Bree turns to him. “You’ve heard? But classes haven’t even started yet and he’s new this year.”

Abel shrugs. “What can I say, I’m a fountain of information.”

“I didn’t know he was new.” I say, brows furrowing.

“Yea, he’s some hotshot gallery owner turned professor they’ve been trying to get hold of for years. Turns out he finally said yes.”

My brows rise. “A gallery owner?”

Abel nods. “Yep. A thirty-something gallery owner with a passion for art.”

“Sounds like your perfect man, Ev.” Bree teases.

I laugh. “Well, I guess it can only be a bonus. I’d rather be distracted by the teachers than the students. At least then I’ll learn something.” I joke.

“So cynical.” Bree laughs. “Let yourself love.”

I pull out a painting I did a few years back and rest it on my desk. “I do love. I love my art.”

“Then you should pursue it then!” Bree jumps up and points at the painting of a girl cradled by ghosts in my signature style. “These are creepy but fucking amazing.”

“It’s not as easy as that and you know it.” I clip, not wanting to have this conversation again. “Bree, I need you, more than anyone, to have my back. Okay?”

She mumbles something but falls silent. But it’s true, it’s hard to be an artist that isn’t starving and broke and it’s all the more difficult if she’s always on my back about it. If it was up to me, I would paint all day and get a degree in something artsy, but I don’t want to leave college as broke as I was going in.

So, I’m here, with a plan, attending a college I’ve only ever dreamed of attending on a scholarship that will leave me mostly debt free. And I will not be wasting the opportunity by majoring in anything other than finance.

All I need to do is get through the next few years distraction free. I can do that, right?