Chapter Eight
Once I got over my initial anxiety, it wasn’t as hard to get my thoughts down as I thought it would be. I think I might have been overthinking it before, but after running into Tobias at College Station, I felt surprisingly confident in my ideas. However, I was still nervous about him reading it.
“Now, as I pass these out, please don’t be discouraged,” Tobias said sympathetically. “It’s pretty normal to score lower than you may be used to on your first Kiuchi paper. He has a very strict rubric. Look over the notes left on your papers, so you know what to fix next time.”
He walked up and down the aisles of desks, and when he got to me his hand lingered a bit longer and there was a knowing twinkle in his eyes that basically liquified me from the inside out. How can one person have such power over another without even trying? When he finally moved on, I slowly turned over my paper.
C+
That was so much worse than I was anticipating.
The girl with shiny black hair, whom I had since learned was named Julie, craned her neck in a not-so-discreet way to try to see what I got. I quickly slid my paper inside my notebook so she couldn’t see what I scored. She, on the other hand, left her paper proudly displayed in the middle of her desk. She got a B+. Which really frustrated me because she clearly had a better grasp on the material than I did, so why was she so being nosy about my grade? It was none of her business after all, and I wasn’t sure why she was so interested in the first place. It wasn’t a contest.
I spent the rest of the class period staring outside. The sun had all but disappeared into dark clouds, which I couldn’t help but believe was a reflection of my mood. When Tobias finally dismissed class, I took my time collecting my things so that I was purposely the last person remaining.
“Everything okay?” he said, as he turned around to start erasing the board.
“No, actually it’s not.”
“Ah, your paper?” he asked knowingly.
“I’ve never gotten a C before. Like, ever.”
“It was well-written—you’re an excellent writer—and grammatically, it was perfect. If you would have had just a little stronger introduction and included a more thorough summary of your points in your conclusion it would have been closer to an A paper.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I replied glumly. My phone buzzed, and I reached for it in my bag. A quick glance showed me it was Dad.
“Should you get that?” Tobias asked, tilting his head toward my phone.
“I should, but I don’t really want to.” With a deep sigh, I answered it. “Hello?”
“Hi, Tamsin, it’s Blair,” she said, as if I wouldn’t immediately realize it wasn’t my dad.
“Yes, I know.” My voice sounded colder than I meant it to, and it made me cringe wondering what Tobias thought about my tone. I didn’t like the idea of him thinking poorly of me.
“I just wanted to invite you to my baby shower. It’s in two weeks, and we would both really love it if you could be there. We haven’t seen you in so long.”
It had literally been a month, but who was counting?
“Oh, um, sure.” I worked harder to sound kinder than I had when I answered the call. “I can probably make it. Text me the details, okay?”
“Okay, great, yes I will right now.”
“Alright, bye.” I ended the call, and as if it was a sign from some higher power, thunder boomed so loudly it felt like it shook the room. I glanced out the window and the dark clouds I had originally thought were just a reflection of my mood had turned into a torrential downpour.
I groaned. “Perfect, just perfect.”
“What?” Tobias asked.
“I walked here,” I answered.
“Ah.” He laughed. “Well, you know, I’m parked right outside. I can give you a ride if you’d like.”
I hesitated. It would be more convenient than having to traipse back to the dorms in the pouring rain, but would anybody think it was weird if they saw me get into his car?
“Okay,” I impulsively agreed, deciding it was worth the risk to avoid getting drenched. “Yes, thank you.”
“Right this way,” he said, grabbing his bag and his car keys. I followed him out and couldn’t help but glance around quickly to make sure that no one would see me getting in his car. I knew I was being silly, but at the same time, I couldn’t help it. I got in and was immediately encased in the intoxicating scent of Tobias’s cologne mixed with old books. I looked in the backseat and, sure enough, there was a stack of leather-bound books with yellowed pages.
“What are those?”
“Oh, just some light reading,” he teased. “Working on my dissertation.”
“Right, still a student. What’s it about?”
“Folkloric symbolism in Russian literature—specifically the vampire myth.”
“Vampires, really?” I asked in disbelief. He nodded, so I continued, “I never would have pegged you for a vampire guy. So, what’s your opinion about vampires of the sparkly nature?”
He laughed. “Glittery bloodsuckers don’t interest me.I’m more interested in the vampire’s function within Russian literature.” Seeing my blank stare, he continued, “By identifying the shifts in imagery in selected Russian vampiric works, I am able to examine how it relates to the societal changes of the different time periods.”
“I have no idea what any of that means.”
He laughed. “You know, sometimes I’m not really sure I understand it myself.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, which allowed me to sneak glances at him as he concentrated on the road. He fiddled with the radio, ultimately deciding nothing good was playing before he switched to his phone. A quick swipe and the most bizarre noise came blaring out of the speakers.
“What is this?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“You aren’t familiar with the musical stylings of the one and only Bj?rk?”
“Can’t say that I am,” I answered, scrunching up my nose. It definitely wasn’t my style.
“And to think I thought you were cultured,” he mocked.
“Just because I like actual music doesn’t mean I’m not cultured. I’m plenty cultured. This is just weird.”
He made a tsking sound and shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.”
“Well considering we weren’t friends to begin with …” I said pointedly. He frowned slightly, which prompted me to say quickly, “I’m only partially joking.”
“Then I’m only partially offended.” He offered me a small smile in response. He pulled into the dorm parking lot, as close as he could get to the doors.
“Thanks for the ride. I feel like I owe you big time,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“How about dinner?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” I asked, unable to contain my shock.
“There’s a place I know, it’s outside of town where our chances of seeing anyone remotely familiar are slim to none,” he said with a sly smile, but it was the unmistakable hopeful look in his eyes that swayed me.
“Okay, when?”
“I’m free.”
It took me a minute to realize what he was saying. “Oh, like right now?”
“No time like the present,” he said, just as my stomach growled, which caused his smirk to widen. I knew I should say no, but every fiber of my being told me to say yes.
“Um, I guess I could eat,” I conceded, rebuckling my seatbelt. It was just dinner after all.
“As you wish,” he said, awfully pleased with himself, as he put the car back in drive.
When he said he knew a place outside of town, he really meant outside of town. The winding road seemed to be never ending, and it was nearly dusk before he finally pulled into a gravel parking lot in front of a restaurant literally carved into the side of a small, rocky cliff. ‘The Undercliff Bar and Grill’was painted on a wooden sign just above the door. As I exited the car, I was met with the mouthwatering smell of greasy cheeseburgers and fries.
“Best cheeseburgers in the state,” Tobias said, as he locked the car with the key fob.
My stomach growled, rather loudly, as if on cue.The restaurant was packed, which was a good sign that the food was as delicious as Tobias promised. He led the way to an unoccupied table toward the back since it was a ‘seat yourself’ sort of place.
The waitress got our drink order fairly quickly considering how busy they were, and it didn’t take too much longer after that before our food was brought out in old-fashioned, paper-lined baskets. I scarfed down my cheeseburger embarrassingly fast since I accidentally skipped lunch. Tobias was right; it was delicious.
“How did you find this place?” I asked, in between bites.
“My grandparents used to bring me here every summer whenever we went camping. We’d stop here before heading back home. Sort of a little tradition, I guess.”
“I’ve never been camping before.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” I laughed as I tried to picture my dad camping. He barely mowed the lawn. “I guess my family isn’t very outdoorsy.”
“You should go sometime.”
“By myself?” I asked.
“Well, maybe not the first time,” he said with a laugh.
I put my napkin on my now empty plate and leaned back in my chair. I was almost uncomfortably full, but it was so good it was worth it.
“Full?” he asked with a smirk.
“I mean, I could go for some dessert,” I answered honestly.
“Funnily enough, me too. And I happen to know the perfect place,” he said, throwing some cash down for our bill.
The next stop on our mini adventure was another hole-in-the-wall place, but I was learning to trust Tobias’s judgment—especially when it came to food. There were more choices than I expected based on the size of the building. We began browsing the various flavors, and I was suddenly struck by a thought. “So how old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-four,” he answered with a small grin. “My birthday was last month.”
“What date?”
“The fifteenth. When’s yours?”
“I’ll be twenty on June eleventh,” I answered thoughtfully. “Why do nineteen and twenty-four seem like a huge difference, but twenty and twenty-five seem reasonable?”
“Reasonable how?” he asked, his grin growing as my face reddened.
Why did I say that out loud? “I wonder if they have spumoni?” I asked, clearly a vain attempt to try to change the subject.
He chuckled in response, before asking, “Spumoni? What’s that?”
“It’s kind of like Neapolitan but with chocolate, pistachio, and cherry instead. It’s my favorite, and you can never find it anywhere.”
“Hmm” was all he said. His brow creased, and he looked like he was plotting something as he started going up and down the aisles like a man on a mission. I trailed behind him, confused at his sudden urgency.
“Aha!” He smiled triumphantly, holding up three different pints of ice cream: chocolate, pistachio, and cherry. “We can make our own.”
I laughed at his excitement over his brilliant idea. “Why haven’t I ever thought of that before?”
“Well, I am working on my doctorate,” he deadpanned.
“I bow to the ice cream master.” I bowed my head with a dramatic flourish of my hand.
It was then that I realized he might be my favorite person, but I was definitely going to keep that thought to myself.
We paid for our ice cream and got back into the car since the only seats available at the ice cream place were bar stools. I think we both wanted a bit more privacy than that even though neither of us would say that out loud.
He drove us to a nearby lake. It was quiet and private; only the moon and stars were there to witness our presence.
“Favorite vacation?” he asked as he dug his spoon into the pint of pistachio.
“Um, I guess New Orleans,” I answered. “I like the food, the atmosphere, and how it seems like its own world down there. What about you?”
“Probably Scotland.”
“I’m jealous. I’m dying to go to Europe. Especially Greece—I’d love to see Greece. I’ve never been out of the country before,” I said wistfully. “But I have my passport, just waiting for the opportunity.”
“What’s stopping you?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Honestly? Fear, I guess. I’ve never traveled anywhere alone,” I admitted.
“Haven’t you ever heard that you are supposed to do the things that scare you?” he asked.
“You know, I never really got the quote. I mean, what about self-preservation? Sometimes we are scared of stuff for good reasons.”
“Yeah, but traveling is good for the soul. It’s the best way to really learn what kind of person you are.”
“Well, I feel like I know the kind of person I am already: a scaredy cat, rule follower.”
“I think there’s more to you than that.”
I was thankful that the cover of darkness kept him from seeing the blush that had crept across my cheeks. I didn’t know how to respond to his statement.I really wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if it was true. So much of my life had been decided for me, it was hard to know the difference between what I wanted and what I was told I needed.There was a summer-abroad program I really wanted to sign up for, but it was a London History and Literature program that I knew my mom would never approve of. Besides, she already had an internship lined up at a local law firm for me this summer. My mom had a very clear vision of what my future should look like and, even though I wasn’t so sure I agreed, what could I do about it?
“It’s peaceful out here,” I said, deciding to change the subject.
“You should see it during the day, especially when the weather starts to warm up and the fields of goldenrods are in full bloom. It’s just yellow as far as the eye can see.”
“Yellow is my favorite color,” I commented.
“I’ll have to bring you back here then.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea …” It was one thing to be with him under the cover of darkness where nobody could see us, but I didn’t want to deal with the potential problems that we’d face if anyone from Parkhurst found out.
“Why?”
“I told you why,” I answered softly.
“And I told you, I’m not really your teacher,” he said, lifting his chin.
“Still. I don’t want to be the topic of campus gossip.”
“You really think anybody actually cares that much?”
“I do. I’ve seen it happen,” I said quietly.
He furrowed his brow in confusion, and I decided it was time to explain myself.
“I guess I’ll start with the phone call earlier,” I started. “That was my dad’s new wife inviting me to her … baby shower.”
He started to smile and looked like he was going to offer me some sort of congratulations, but when he saw the expression on my face, he immediately seemed to understand without me having to elaborate and stopped himself.
I continued, “Yeah, but there’s more to it than just the fact that my father is starting a new chapter in his life. You see, Blair was a graduate assistant when they met. She was in a different department, but still, she was technically a student and …”
“And?” he pressed.
“And he was technically still married to my mom when it happened.”
“Ah, I see.”
I thought about how it all came out and just how awful everything was for the months that followed. Even now it’s not easy. It was the Parkhurst holiday party two years ago. I was just finding my groove on campus when I started to hear the rumors of the professor and a student. The stories were wild, and ninety percent weren’t even true. They definitely didn’t get caught having sex on a table in the anatomy lab. But they did end up kissing under the mistletoe at a holiday party—and yes, my mom was in attendance. Things quickly changed after that. Mom filed for divorce the next day, and Dad moved in with Blair the following week.It’s not that they were very happy before. They didn’t fight, at least not in front of me, but they didn’t exactly talk to each other either. I didn’t realize until later that their marriage was a cold one. It still stung when my dad moved on at lightning speed.
“I couldn’t stand the whispers and the ridiculous stories that were going around. I never want to be put in that kind of situation ever again,” I explained.
“But it’s not the same. You know that, right? First, neither one of us is married—unless you have something you need to tell me?” he joked. I gently punched him in his arm. “And second, for the hundredth time: I. Am. Not. Your. Teacher.”
“Close enough.”
“Only for another couple of weeks.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh,” I said thoughtfully. “I’m actually relieved and a little disappointed at the same time.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re actually a pretty good teacher.” I offered a small smile. I wasn’t ready to jump into anything with him just yet, of course, but it was nice to know that soon he would no longer be in a teacher role. At least not really. I knew I was probably being stupid, but I had made it such a habit to just blend in—never do anything to attract attention to myself—and they do say old habits die hard. Would anybody really care if I dated him? Probably not. It wasn’t the same thing as my dad and Blair. Not even close.So what really was my hold up?
“Wonderwall”by Oasis began playing on the radio.
“I love this song,” I said at the same time Tobias turned up the volume. He turned his head toward me, with that smile I was beginning to think he saved just for me.
“Me too,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Do you know what ‘wonderwall’means?”
“No, I never really thought about it before,” I said, taking another bite of my ice cream.
“I looked it up once. A ‘wonderwall’ is the person you constantly find yourself thinking about.”
He’s my wonderwall. I giggled a little at the inadvertent thought.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking, nor did I want to admit how adorable I found him when he was in teacher mode, so I just responded, “It’s just a fun word.”
“I think so.” He tucked a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear. If I was a spontaneous person, I would have leaned in and kissed him just then, but I was just not that kind of girl. Instead, I leaned back into his passenger seat and turned my attention back to my ice cream.
And as I sat there, eating the ice cream while listening to Tobias hum the familiar tune, I knew that this song would never mean the same thing to me again.