Beautiful Burn (5 page)

“Yeah.” She shrugged as she
dragged her fingertips through the now twilight-lit sand.

“Everything good with that
guy?” I found myself suddenly wishing they'd broken up in the days
it'd been since she'd introduced me. She had kissed me back, right? I
hadn't just imagined her soft lips pressed against mine, had I?

“Jake?” She looked to me in
a flash, then dug through the pocket of her jeans. The cellophane
around her cigarettes crackled as she rustled with it before pulling
a slightly thinner cigarette out and lighting it. The heavy scent of
weed filled my nostrils. I was surprised for half a second before it
settled that nothing really surprised me with Auburn. She was
predictably unpredictable and just when I thought I had her pegged,
she turned my stereotypes upside down. “We're not serious,” she
finally admitted. I only nodded, thankful for that.

“So tell me what's going on
inside that head of yours.” Something seemed to be bothering her,
and I was dying for her to open up to me. Auburn had always been more
reserved when it came to talking about
her
personal life, and had only mentioned details in passing, but now
that we were both here, both adults, I wanted to know more. I wanted
to know everything there was to know about her.

She sighed. “It's been tough,
helping my grandma since she had the stroke. She's in therapy three
days a week, but progress is slow. It's so hard to see her get down
on herself or disappointed when she can't do the things she used to
do. She'll get through it, she's the toughest person I know, but it's
hard to watch her struggling.” Auburn paused as she watched the
cool waves licking at the tips of her toes. “When Grams had the
stroke, I knew I couldn't stay away all summer. We’ve been so close
for so long, seeing her those first few days in the hospital made me
realize she won’t always be here. Whatever I was going to do at
Central was nothing compared to talking books and reality shows and
boys with Grams.”

“Sounds like you've found the
secret to life.”

“What's that?”

“The things that matter most
are the relationships we have with the people we love. It’s all
that remains in the end.”

“Yeah,” she agreed as she
gazed out at the shimmering water.

“You know you can talk to me,
about anything. Always.” I brushed the tips of her fingers, tracing
anxious circles in the sand.

“Thank you.” She said with
sincerity.

“Gonna share some of that?”
I asked, jovially, sensing she needed the change of topic.

“Always.” She passed me the
joint. “Mr. West.” She grinned wickedly.

“Don’t go there,” I
admonished in sexy warning.

“What? I’m a girl with
manners and morals. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She grinned the sexiest grin I’d ever seen grace a woman’s lips.

I leaned in, close enough that
my breath washed the skin at her neck as I spoke. “Is that why
you’re out on the beach at night smoking a joint with your
teacher?” I finished before inhaling a substance I hadn’t touched
since college.

I exhaled and watched as her
breathing accelerated and her fingers dug into the sand at her sides.
“He’s not my teacher anymore,” she finally answered.

I took in another smooth hit of
the tightly wrapped flower and exhaled, relaxing back on my arms to
watch the lighthouse beam cutting through the murky darkness of
night. The marijuana seeped into my system one cell at a time before
it began to pulse and pound through my blood, intensifying every
thought, every sight, every feeling.

“That’s debatable,” I
finally replied. And with those words it dawned on me that she and I
were twisted and wrapped up, an innocent history woven with a
precarious present, and we were both getting off on it. It was hot.

She was forbidden and dangerous
-- we were playing with fire and would without a doubt get burned,
but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was rooted and standing at
the eve of my own destruction. My body raged at me to abandon my
morals as my primal need to take and take and take until she was
spent and used and hadn’t a drop left to give obsessed me.
“Auburn?”

“Yeah?” She turned, passed
me the dwindling joint, and waited expectantly.

“You should leave.” It was
the last thing I wanted her to do, but I had to do this right. She
deserved someone that could give everything to her and the
realization that that could never be me was like a razor blade to my
heart.

Her great big, dark eyes stared
back at me, refusing to break my gaze. “Why?” she said without
fear or hesitation. “So we can ignore this feeling, these feelings
we’ve ignored for years? I’m tired of acting like there isn’t
anything between us.” She looked out to the water, light reflecting
on the determination in her eyes. “Maybe I’m crazy, maybe you
only see a teacher and an immature student with a crush. But I don’t
think so.” If my heart wasn’t about to explode now it stood no
chance when she turned back to me, placed one hand on my cheek and
took a deep breath. “We have had a connection since our paths
first met. I tried not to think about you, I tried to put those
thoughts away, chalk them up to a crush, but I can’t. Seeing you
again ignited the feelings in my soul, right or wrong. When you
kissed me it was like the last three years apart fell away. How can
this be wrong?” Pulling her hand away, I flinched at the loss.
“Tell me. if this is a simple crush or you are only here out of
some misplaced sense of loyalty, obligation, or fuck! I don’t know,
ego, please tell me now, Reed.” My blood thickened in my veins and
heated me from the inside out. Everything I had thought and felt, I
should have known she'd felt it too. The pull between us was too
strong not to be shared. I was about to pull her towards me when she
looked up and asked the question. That one underlying, life changing,
dangerous, question. “Is this real?”

My heart sank at the simple
question, a reminder of what an impossibility loving her was. “You
should leave before we do something we may regret.” I prayed she
wouldn't ask for more, my weak restraint to press her lips to mine
again was dwindling with every word she spoke.

“I’m only worried about the
things I’ll regret not doing,” she replied, the look in her eyes
saying even more than her words had.

I pressed my lips together
firmly, shifted in the sand, and looked up to the moon in some silent
prayer for ungodly amounts of strength. “Go, Auburn,” I murmured
without looking back at her. My fists tightened in the smooth
granules as I heard her stand and gather her things.

“Don’t forget this.” I
lifted the fading joint between my fingers.

“Keep it.” She dusted the
sand off her jeans before she paused. “Thanks for the inspiration,
Mr. West.” She breezed past me, one thigh brushing my shoulder. I
wasn't sure if I'd really caught the sweet scent of her humid skin
lingering on the night air or if my greedy mind had imagined it, but
I sucked it through my nostrils hungrily, the scent of her shooting
like a rocket straight to my dick.

I drew in a ragged breath
before pulling the joint back to life and taking another hit.

Sweet Auburn Lawrence was going
to unravel me.

Later
the following week, I stepped out of the corner pharmacy downtown to
find a familiar face leaning against my Blazer. “Hey.” I
grimaced, as I slipped my sunglasses on.

“Why aren't you at work?”
Mel nailed me with accusatory eyes. I'd hoped she wouldn’t make a
scene
.

“I don't have class on
Fridays.” I fished for the keys in my pocket, already exasperated
with her inquisition.

“I thought you were teaching
Monday through Friday?” Her eyes scanned my casually-dressed frame
as if looking for a clue.

“I had an appointment. Look,
Mel. I don't have to answer to you anymore.”

“Is there something going
on?” Her eyes widened as she leaned closer. “Is there someone
else?” Her voice had risen more octaves than I knew possible.

“I'm not doing this here.”
I grit through my teeth and whipped my door open with more force than
necessary.

“Oh my God. Don't think I
haven't kept myself busy, Reed. In fact, I've got plans tonight.”
She crossed her arms, the smug look on her face turning my stomach. I
didn't care if she was telling the truth or not, all I wanted was to
get home, and push Mel and all the constant noise from my head.

“You're a fucking asshole,
Reed. I know you're hiding something.” She seethed as I slid behind
the wheel. So this is what we'd become, throwing angry slurs and
resentment.

“Think whatever you need to,
Mel.” I slammed the door, ending our conversation. Her face twisted
in rage as I started the truck up and pulled out of the parking spot.
I watched her in the rearview mirror, angry and wanting a fight, as I
drove away. I felt like I might be sick.

I arrived home five minutes
later and plopped myself on the cheap couch I'd bought to furnish the
small, one-bedroom apartment. Opening my email, I was thankful for
the message I found waiting for me.

A few people are getting
together tonight at the old train bridge if you want to come.

It'd been seven days since
we'd gone to the lighthouse. She'd behaved herself in my class all
week, taking notes and participating in discussions, and it had
slowly killed me.

Before I could think twice I
replied.

What kind of crowd we
talking?

Her reply came less than a
minute later.

Some young, some old, some
middle-agers like yourself. ;) Can I just text you? This email thing
feels so last century.

Text me? Not a chance. Mel and
I still shared an account…the last thing I wanted was questions
about incoming and outgoing texts from a strange number.

No. What time?

P.S. 28 is NOT middle-age.

My fingers shook when I hit
send. I knew with every fiber of my being I shouldn’t have
entertained the idea of meeting her. I tried not to think about Mel
for the sake of my own sanity, but Auburn was in my thoughts
constantly. I couldn't bring myself to respond with anything else.

Her reply chimed almost
instantly.

Everyone's getting there
just before dark, but I’ll be there sooner. I want to show you
something. Please come.

And there she went, undoing me
with innuendo. I knew I’d have to relieve some of the tension that
had been building with every innocent brush of the shoulder and
flirty comment if I were going to hold it together tonight.

My dick throbbed beneath the
bed sheet and I palmed it to relieve a fraction of the ache. I
growled and threw a pillow over my head before slipping my hand
beneath the cotton and pulling my fist up my shaft. I repeated, down
and then back up…sweet release -- sweet, aching, primal release was
what my body craved.

My phone chimed next to me,
indicating another email.

Four okay?

And there it was, the time of
my eventual demise staring me in the face.

Perfect.

I replied simply. I was strung
tight, every ounce of blood in my body had settled in my balls and
was now controlling my dick, and thereby my entire existence. I
hopped out of bed and headed for a cold shower to try and distract
myself from Auburn, my dick, and four pm that evening.

***

Exactly seven point five hours
later and I was pulling into the gravel parking lot next to the old
train bridge outside of town. It was no longer in use and had become
a popular spot for drinking among the younger crowd, and fishing and
drinking among the older.

I slid into a parking spot next
to the only other vehicle there—Auburn’s small Toyota. I smoothed
my hands on the worn leather steering wheel and gave myself a mental
pep talk before getting out. Don’t go too fast. Think before you
jump. She's your student for fuck’s sake. You're
married.
Things will get messy.

I straightened my spine as I
stepped from the car. She was nowhere to be seen. I made my way down
the small path to the river and headed for the curve that I knew
would open up to the shore. The gravel faded to worn grass and then a
rocky bank before I saw her. She sat on the edge of a stone, ten
perfectly painted ruby toes dipping in and out of the rushing water
as she strung a fishing pole.

I shook my head with surprise.
“You brought me here to fish?” I plopped beside her on the slab
of granite.

“I don’t know if we’ll
catch any, but we’re gonna fish.” She finished tying a lure on
the end of her line, an endearing look of thoughtful determination on
her face. “I wanted to give you something back. The lighthouse was
so beautiful, I could never top it, but I wanted to say thank you for
taking me. I write you this ridiculous email babbling about writer’s
block and then you do that to help me, so thank you.”

“You're welcome.” I smiled.
“It was my pleasure. I'm glad it helped. Now pass me that pole.”
I gestured to the other she had beside her.