10. Teresa
Practice ran long, and I had promised myself to get in a third workout to make up for missing my runs this weekend.
I’d also been dodging Jeremy’s texts and phone calls.
I needed some time to think and time on the field usually helped. Though tonight, I wasn’t so sure. Sweaty and exhausted, I pulled my shirt off and wiped my face as I stood in the middle of the practice soccer field in my soccer gear, shorts, and sports bra.
The lights were still on, but it was pretty much dark all around the field while I ran drills and then laps until my legs felt rubbery and about to give out on me, but I didn’t stop.
Taking endless shots at an empty goal, one after another.
We had two really important games coming up, ones that would matter a lot, and I needed to be ready.
As a mid-fielder, I was all over the pitch during a game.
Once I was done, I sat in the grass, sipping my water before I started to unlace my cleats and slipped on my Crocs. Dumping everything into my duffle, I stood and started to walk out of the athletics area on campus but still hadn’t left the field.
“Teresa!” a deep male voice called from behind me. I turned, fully expecting to see Jeremy, but my feet stopped and suddenly felt like they were nailed down to the ground. Professor Nick Gage jogged towards me only to stop right in front of me.
“Professor.” I said quietly as a queasy feeling started to climb and tingle at the back of my neck. What is he doing out here?
“How are you?” he asked. His eyes searched my face for a moment before they slipped lower. Right to my chest. Gross. Instantly, I regretted only leaving my sports bra on with my shorts. I hated men. How their lecherous gaze could make you feel dirty without being guilty of anything.
“Fine. And yourself?” I asked, glancing away for a second, hoping I could see someone. Anyone. But I wasn’t lucky.
“Good.” He stepped forward, close enough that the scent of his sweat and cologne wafted into my nostrils and his body heat radiated onto my body. The memory of the last time he’d been that close crashed through me. Trapped in his office.
“Just out for a workout,” he shared. I blinked and glanced down and frowned. Maybe this was a coincidence? He was dressed in track pants and a faded sweater.
“You’re out late tonight,” he pointed out.
It wasn’t a question but a statement laced with a warning. I opened and shut my mouth. I didn’t need to explain shit to him.
“You know, you would think you would be more careful.” His fingertips touched my wrist and trailed up my mid-forearm.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged as his eyes roamed up and down my body.
My gut twisted. “You, dressing like that.” He jerked his chin towards me, looking at me as if I was in lacy lingerie instead of sweaty workout clothes.
“In a dark secluded place where anyone could be around. Waiting. Watching.” There was something about the way he said that, like a confession, that made me shiver with fear.
I had to lock my knees to keep them from buckling.
Was this some kind of admission?
Was that what he had been doing?
I looked around. The field might have been well lit, but there were spots between the soccer and baseball fields that were pitch black. Anyone could have been standing there, and I wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Or you just trying to get my attention?” he asked before adding, “Again.” He added another finger to skim up and down my arm. Fear froze me solid. Pull your arm away! a voice inside me yelled, but it was like my brain and body had somehow disconnected.
“Professor—“ When he leaned in, the words died on my tongue. His front touched mine as his face dipped to the side of my face and he inhaled deeply. An animal-like groan sounded; it made my stomach roil.
He was… sniffing me?
Like an animal. A predator toying with its prey.
“You could have made this easier, you know? I mean, right from the moment I saw you that first day, I knew it would be you. But you fought me that night in my office. We got interrupted by that damn TA and you never came back to my office hours.”
“I didn’t—“ I started to speak, but he cut me off.
“We could have enjoyed all quarter having… private lessons.” I wanted to throw up.
“I don’t know what you’re—“
“Instead, you teased me. Walked away, leaving me wanting.“ He pressed his body against mine, and nausea washed over me. Professor Pervy had just leveled up to creep. He was undeniably hard. “I could have shown you a thing or two. Taught you a lot about biology.”
“Prof—“
“All quarter, you wreaked havoc in my head, and now“—his fingers wrapped around my forehead, and I whimpered at the pain I felt as they dug into my skin––“now, I’m done waiting, Teresa.” I hated how he said my name. It was nothing like the way Jeremy did it. Shit, why didn’t I tell him where I am?
Why did I ignore his calls and texts? “It’s time to give me what I want.
” His eyes were wild, unhinged, but not in the way I’d seen in Jeremy before. The professor had lost it.
“I don’t think—“
“Then don’t,” he sharply cut me off. Something changed in his eyes again.
It was wild to me. If you’d see him out and about, he’d look normal.
Just a good-looking and charming man, but the middle-aged man in front of me was terrifying.
“Don’t think, just listen and be a good girl for me.
” His praise was nothing like Jeremy’s. “We’ll walk back to your dorms, you’ll lead me up to your room and show me your paper so I can grade it. ”
“Paper?” I frowned. What was he talking about? “There’s no paper.”
“Really? You sure about that?” he challenged. I swallowed hard.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on the assignments and—“
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so busy fucking the catcher, you would have seen it had been added. If you don’t have that paper all done when we walk into your room, you’re failing my class.”
“You can’t do that.” I tried to rip my arm out of his hold, but his grip only tightened almost painfully as panic started to creep up my back. “That’s not an assignment and—“
“I can do anything I want!” His free hand wrapped around my waist, resting open palmed on my bare lower back. He was so close I could see just how blown wide his pupils were.
“Fuck, you feel good. I don’t even care if you’re fucking that stupid baseball player.
I’m going to play with you in your room, and when I’m done with you, you’re going to thank—“ I was just about to lift my knee to kick him in the groin when one moment, he was in front of me, and the next, cool night air breezed between us. I watched someone pull him away. That’s when I saw him!
Jeremy held my professor with his arm around his neck in a chokehold.
Jeremy was there and I was safe.
“Let go of me, you stupid—"the professor gritted.
“Shut the fuck up before I rip your fucking head off,” Jeremy menacingly threatened, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he’d do it.
“Fuck you.” Professor Gage spittled, his lips growing blue, face paling. It occurred to me Jeremy was going to kill him.
“Jeremy!” I found my voice and felt his eyes on me, but I shut my eyes as I tried to catch my breath.
Jeremy was here.
I was safe.
“Kid, you okay?” a scratchy older male voice sounded just as a hand touched my arm. I jumped. I opened my eyes to see a tall older guy I’d noticed before and assumed was part of the baseball team. A coach? A trainer? He had dark green, almost brown eyes and silver dark at his temples.
“I’m fine.” My knees wobbled with relief.
“You sure?” I opened my mouth to respond when the professor cursed.
“Fuck!” Professor Gage groaned, and the older man turned his attention back to Jeremy.
“Goddamn it, Fletcher. Let him go.”
“No,” Jer growled. “He had his hands on her. He was trying to taker her from me.”
“Let him go.”
“What the fuck, Coach?”
“Do it.” The coach said and crossed his arms.
“I don’t know what you think your guys are doing, Coach.” Professor McCreepy coughed as he panted to catch his breath. “But this could be ground for expulsion.”
“Really?” The coach asked, putting his body in front of mine. “And what I just witnessed? What my guys just recorded? Could that be grounds for termination?”
“That a threat?”
“That’s a goddamn promise,” the coach seethed, turning red with anger.
“Still just her word against mine. Shit like that can be doctored up. Pissed-off student asks a couple of her fuck buddies to rough me up after she came on to me?”
“Oh yeah?” The coach glared at him, rolling his neck as pops and cracks sounded into the air. “Fuck it,” Coach cursed, looking at Jeremy, “Get your girl and get out of here,” he ordered, his tone not leaving room to argue, yet Jeremy questioned him.
“What?”
“Trust me, kid. Get your girl and go.”
“But—" It was obvious Jeremy didn’t like the idea of letting the sleazy creep go, but he was obviously torn about coming to comfort me and being the one to do whatever Coach had in mind.
“I got this, Fletch. We got this,” Coach said, his eyes skirting the two other players around us. Each one was big and strong in his own way, all three towering the professor. “Don’t we, Ferguson and Marquez?” The two ball players nodded; the tall dark-haired, tatted-up one cracked his knuckles.
“Get an extra shot in for me,” Jeremy requested.
And me, I thought to myself. My body swayed as Jeremy slowly approached me, like he thought I was some kind of skittish animal.
The moment he was two, three steps away, something came over me.
I rushed into his front, and his arms wrapped around me with an oomph.
“Thank you.” My words were muffled as I pressed closely to his chest. His arms banded around me in a warm, protective clasp.
“I got you,” he promised, and before I knew it, he lifted my shaking body up in his arms, like a groom carried his bride, and with my duffle bag over his shoulder carried me all the way home.
Jeremy might have started off as my own annoying, blackmailing bully, but he ended up being so much more.
He called me his cielo, his sky, but to me, from that day on, no matter what life tossed our way, Jeremy Fletcher was my everything.