Chapter 18 Micah #2
“This is extraordinary, Micah,” he said. “You write with such a vivid eye. This could be a piece in the Times travel section.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised.
“Really. I don’t think I’ve ever said this to a student before, but have you considered being a writer?” He looked up at her from his desk, his dark eyes serious, and she noticed his wrists, strong and masculine, covered with dark hair.
“Not exactly,” she said.
“Well, I’m the adviser for the school newspaper, and I think you should join,” he said. “I’d love to see how your voice translates to other forms of writing. I’m starting a creative writing group, if you’re interested.”
She joined both, and not because she wanted to write.
The creative writing group consisted of four other students, two of whom dropped out after Christmas.
She started asking for more feedback. “Mr. Bates, I hate to take up more of your time, but . . .” Not that she cared about her essay on the recycling program the students were petitioning for.
When he told her, ruefully and predictably, that family life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, she knew he was laying the groundwork.
The old my wife doesn’t understand me bullshit was not unfamiliar to her.
Her father, a police officer, used to cheat on her mother all the time, something Mom pretended not to know—or worse, accepted—right up until he filed for divorce.
In February, she brought in cupcakes for the entire English class on her eighteenth birthday, just to be sure Mr. Bates knew she was now an official adult.
Sure enough, two days later, when he was “advising” her on a college essay she had no plans to submit, he dropped the fact that his wife slept with the baby in another bedroom.
“That sounds lonely,” Micah said. She’d worn a V-neck for a reason.
“It is,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at her.
She ran a finger over the underside of his wrist. “So then . . . do you want some company?” she asked.
He got up, closed the classroom door—it was almost five, because her essay was so complex, LOL.
Then he strode back to her, grabbed her hard and yanked her sweater up over her lace bra, kissing her roughly, his tongue hot, razor stubble scraping.
She’d never been so turned on in her life.
He’d done her right there against the wall.
She’d brought a condom for just that reason.
For the next few months, they had the kind of hot, inappropriate sex featured in many a porno.
Mr. Bates knew what he was doing. He was forty-four years old, worked out and was a far cry from the boys she’d been with before.
Even James, who’d been her boyfriend (who was still her boyfriend), was tentative, always stopping to ask if what he was doing was okay.
Mr. Bates never asked. He’d hold her hands above her head.
He’d bend her over his desk, use his mouth and fingers in ways she hadn’t experienced before.
He told her she could call him Robert, but honestly, she could tell Mr. Bates turned him on.
In the copy room, in the janitor’s closet, on his desk after the school had emptied.
He was strong and confident and sometimes a little aggressive, biting her or shoving her panties aside, yanking down her bra.
“God, you’re incredible,” he’d growl, and she’d come so hard she saw stars.
She told James she needed a pause on the sex front—so many emotions with graduation coming, wanting to spend more time with the Core Four and maybe upping her grades, which would explain why she was staying at school so late four days a week.
For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to break up with him completely.
James was adorable, friendly, kind, easygoing, like a mellow golden retriever.
She obviously wasn’t going to tell him she was having mind-blowing sex with a teacher.
Mr. Bates always used a condom, though he asked her to go on the pill.
She couldn’t, though, since it gave her migraines.
So, with a disappointed sigh, he used protection .
. . until one day he forgot to restock. She was sprawled on his desk, wet and pulsing for him, did a quick calculation, and said she didn’t think she was ovulating and they should be safe.
But she was, and they weren’t. Math had never been her best subject.
Three weeks later, her breasts were sore, and she felt green and weak. The test told her what she already knew. She was pregnant, and it was nine days until graduation.
When she told Mr. Bates, she was shocked by his fury. “This is your fault,” he hissed. They were in his classroom. “Get an abortion. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe you’d be so stupid. This is my life here. Do you know what will happen to me if this gets out?”
“Excuse me, I’m the one who’s pregnant, Mr. Bates. What about me?”
“I told you, get an abortion. My wife will divorce me so fast if she finds out.”
“So what? You have a loveless marriage, don’t you?
” Her voice was thick with sarcasm. Of course she knew it was a line, the line, but it felt good to toss it back at him.
“And what do you think my father the cop will do to you if he finds out?” She was tempted .
. . except her parents were divorced, and Dad had lived in Boston for two years now and had managed to see her all of one time.
His face paled. “You can’t keep it,” he said. “Your life will be ruined, too.”
Could he at least pretend to have some sympathy or take a little responsibility? He was the one fucking a student. “You’re such a cliché, Robert,” she told him. “I’ll do whatever I want. Including dropping by your house.”
“Don’t you dare,” he said, but she was already leaving.
For the rest of the week, Micah skipped his class.
On the second-to-last day of school, an announcement came over the PA during lunch.
“Kids, it’s Principal Winfield here. Mr. Bates has taken a job in Maryland, and I know you’ll wish him and his lovely family all the best in this new chapter of their lives. ”
“The best English teacher in the school,” Matt Jensen said. “Not that it matters to us seniors.”
“He was the best,” Hattie Miller said. “The teacher I’ll totally miss the most.” Was she also screwing him? Probably not, given how busy Micah had kept him, but who knew? The man wasn’t exactly morally upright.
“I thought he was kind of a dick,” Micah said mildly. “Super impressed with himself.”
“Then why’d you join all his little clubs?” Hattie asked, a mean glint in her eyes. “I thought you were the teacher’s pet.”
“No, Hattie,” she replied, her tone bored. “I was trying to get in some last-minute extracurriculars. But points to you for your nasty mind.”
“Don’t be mean, Hattie,” James said, putting his arm around Micah. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.” He kissed her on the cheek, ever valiant where she was concerned.
If only he knew.
She didn’t think getting drunk at Derek’s party would bring on the death of Audrey’s mother.
Or the shattering of Beck’s leg and the cancellation of her scholarship.
She didn’t think it would lead to the end of the Core Four.
She’d just wanted to wipe her mind clean and forget the person she’d been for the past four months.
It took Micah five years after her son was born to fall in love with James.
The poor guy never seemed to doubt that she loved him just as much as he loved her.
She did not. He’d been the safe, nice boy .
. . not super athletic, though he’d played soccer.
He didn’t hit the honor roll, he never flunked a class.
Just a good-hearted, unremarkable guy with the dream of owning his own auto repair shop.
He asked for so little. They slept together, sure .
. . he was not her first boyfriend; he was her third, and fifth.
He seemed completely secure when other guys flirted with her or even asked her out when he was standing right next to her.
He was fine with her spending more time with the Core Four than with him.
When she worked in the bakery or at the diner (Mom didn’t pay), he’d grab a table and read a technical manual on car engines.
If she gave him any sort of affection, he smiled at her as if she were a Christmas present.
And he had such a sweet smile. The kind of smile that made her feel guilty about how little it took to make him happy.
After the accident, he was the only one to recognize how traumatized she was, how ashamed.
Her mother was dismayed when it came out that Micah was supposed to have been the designated driver but had gotten wasted anyway.
Dr. Kate had been Mom’s friend. Eve was snide and smug, telling her it was about time karma caught up with her, which resulted in Micah slapping her, then the two of them going at it like two feral cats.
Jasmine didn’t even try to speak to her, and Beck was in the hospital, her future gone.
She didn’t dare face Audrey. About a month after the accident, she saw Stephen in town, and she was so ashamed she hid behind a dumpster.
James held her when she sobbed, was with her when Jasmine and Audrey left without saying goodbye.
He was one of five kids, including her, who didn’t have college plans.
He suggested they go to Boston to see Beck, but Micah couldn’t face her.
When she put off seeing an obstetrician, terrified that the booze and the crash had done something horrible to the fetus, James told her it was better to know and went with her.
After all the loss and trauma, Micah couldn’t face ending the pregnancy.
James said he’d always known she’d keep it.