Teach Me: Sinful Desires (12 page)

Destini shook her head. “It’s not what you think. I… I—.” Her voice faltered. She was unable to tell her the rest.

“Come here.” She turned into Naiya’s arms. It felt good to hug someone she loved. Someone who loved her. Made her feel sane. That’s what she needed more than anything, to feel sane.

“Sweetie, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen to you. Never. I mean, yes, it’s a sex den and yes, it can be wild but, Dez, you didn’t have to go through that. It was only supposed to be fun, never this. I would never want you hurt. It’s my fault.”

“Stop it,” Destini said. “It’s over. Leave it alone. Besides, I’m grown. I went because I wanted to. He didn’t do anything I didn’t consent to. Let it go.” She walked around her.

“No one consents to being traumatized. That’s bullshit. Did you drink? Did he slip something in your drink?”

Destini stopped at the door, considering. She looked back and shook her head slowly. “No I––”

“Sir went too far. Partying is one thing but––”

“What did you say?”

“I said he went too far,” Naiya huffed, too angry to recall her exact words.

“No, you said ‘Sir’.”

Naiya blinked. “Huh?”

“I never told you his club name was Sir.”

Naiya looked away. “Sure you did, just a minute ago.”

“No! I did not. Naiya, did you––.” Destini stepped back with abject horror. “You set this up?”

“Let me explain,” Naiya began.

Destini stormed out of the bathroom, her head spinning, stomach lurching. She put her hands to her head. Thinking of the things he said. Remembering it all.

“Dez, let me explain.”

“Get out!” She whirled around, her face streaked with tears. “Get out!”

“Please, Dez. I told you I was dating Nero at the club. We got to talking. Somehow I mentioned you and how you write this stuff. He said he knew someone who could give you a good time, if you ever came. I swear I––”

Destini stormed over and grabbed Naiya by the arm. She dragged her, snatching up her friend’s purse along the way. Naiya fought against her hold. “Dez, stop this. Let me explain. It wasn’t a setup, not for you to be hurt. It was just––”

Destini opened the door and handed her, her purse. “Get out!”

“Oh God. I love you. Dez, please don’t be mad at me.”

Destini pushed her out. She slammed the door shut on her. Naiya’s pleas outside of the door meant nothing. Her heart was broken. Well-intentioned or not, Naiya’s betrayal was the last straw. So it was a game, all a game, and not the game of her choosing. Sir was an illusion and she was a fool for lusting for him still. She stumbled away from the door, ignoring the bangs and constant pleading. Ignoring the torturous way her body mourned for him through it all.

Eleven

Four weeks later

“Ms. Sanders?”

Destini eyes shot up from the contents of an open cardboard box on her desk. Inside were pictures and drawings her students made for her. The room was decorated with ribbons and streamers for the little going-away party the class had thrown in her honor.

“Principal Carson?”

“Today is your last day.” He strolled in.

Destini smiled. “Looks that way. What are you doing here? You quit?”

“I was called back by the school board to make sure my replacement was introduced to the staff. I’m just passing through.” Carson’s hand went to a yellow streamer decoration; he fingered a few others then stepped around and returned his eyes to her. “To say that you will be missed is an understatement. The students love you. The school wishes you’d reconsider.”

“I can’t. I won’t. But what about you? Where are you going?” she asked.

He stared at her. His stare so penetrating she looked away. His eyes were green, just like a man who visited her dreams that she fought to forget from her memory. Just like the mysterious lover Rain was now avoiding in her books.

Destini wanted to leave more than ever. It had been weeks since she spoken to Naiya. Not for her friend’s lack of trying, but Destini kept her distance. She wasn’t angry anymore. Not really. Each time she saw her she thought of him. And she just didn’t want to think of him. Her HIV test proved to be negative. Still, she would need to take another one in three months.

“About that dinner. The offer still stands,” Carson cleared his throat. “A farewell dinner, maybe.” He stepped toward her. “Ms. Sanders, I… I never asked, never considered asking before, because we worked together. I have so much respect for uhm… for you. But I, well you’re quite a woman. There’s something I want to share with you. Something I did… ah, well, something I need to say.”

She felt heat flood her cheeks from embarrassment. He wasn’t flirting. He was asking her out. On a date? Destini shook her head to the offer. The old Destini would choose him just because he asked and feel obligated to at least have dinner as a courtesy. He fit all the requirements. He was controlling enough, and proper enough, and pleasant enough. But now, now she knew differently.

“I’m flattered. Really, I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes?” he said with a hopeful smile. “I think we need to talk.”

“We don’t. I appreciate your being kind, and I’m flattered but I’m sorry, Bryce. I can’t. I’m leaving this job, the city, all of this behind. I don’t want to start any new friendships I won’t be able to explore.”

He nodded. “Then know that it was my pleasure working with you. Knowing you.” he said and backed away. He turned and left. Destini looked up to see Naiya at the door. She glanced away and continued to pack up her things.

“So you’re doing it, huh? Leaving,” her friend asked.

“Looks that way.”

“Dez. I’ve wanted to talk to you, but… I respected that you don’t want to.”

“It’s done. Okay? Let’s just leave it at that.”

Destini turned and reached for the things behind her desk. Her heart hurt from it all. She didn’t want to discuss or analyze that wound. Too many years of friendship were between them. Naiya felt the same way. Her usually pushy, loud manner was gone. There was a quiet sadness to her voice now.

“I’m sorry. I love you. You’re the only one who can stand my crazy ass.” Destini looked up to see Naiya twisting her hands and chewing on her glossy lips. “I went several times to Ajani. Nero… well, he’s addictive. We fooled around, but nothing hardcore. Just the idea of being there, you know?”

When Destini didn’t respond, Naiya stepped closer and continued. “So you got your freak on, huh?” she tried at a joke. When Destini didn’t laugh, Naiya dropped her eyes away and sighed. “I lied. Before I agreed to Nero’s offer I asked for him to point out the man he said would help you. Sir would show up sometimes. He would observe mostly. Always in a mask. Did he take it off for you?” she asked. Destini again didn’t respond. “He was quiet, reserved, like you. I thought he was shy. I mean, the women were on him like flies. Most men broke under that sexual tension. You know? He just sat in that booth drinking, watching. Then one night Nero brought him over while I waited at the bar. We started talking. I started talking, I mean. You know how I run my mouth. And, girl, outside of this school you’re about all I have to talk about. It was the sauce. Loose lips and all that jazz.”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Destini said.

“Yes, Dez, please. I mentioned how you were more adventurous than me and didn’t know it. Girl, I envy you. How talented you are. How creative. I just got a kick out of the place and how Rain would do it. He suggested the
Leather Straps Love
event. I told him you would never agree, but if you did… to look out for you. Showed him your picture from my phone. You know the selfie we took at Macy’s when we got silly swamping dresses in the changing room?”

Destini looked up. “You gave me up to a total stranger? In a sex bar?”

“I’m sorry, Dez. I really am. God, please forgive me,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s always been safe there. Very exclusive. I went too far. I did. I was wrong. But I love you, girl. You know that. We’ve been friends for too long to let it go like this. I’ve learned my lesson. I swear. If you leave town like this, I’m going to lose it. Seriously, I love you that much. Forgive me. Please.”

Destini walked around her desk and Naiya rushed her for a hug. The embrace was tight and strong. The two of them had missed each other terribly. Forgiveness was harder than holding on to anger, but easier when Destini considered the alternative of leaving town and losing her best friend.

“I’m so sorry. So sorry,” Naiya sobbed.

“It’s not okay to abuse my trust. To do what you did,” Destini said. “It hurt.”

“Dez, please––.”

“I’m sorry, Naiya. It’s not cool.” Destini pushed free.

“I did this to you. Will you ever get over it?”

“I’m okay. Actually, I’m better than okay. Whoever he was, he did that for me. I feel different.”

“You do?” Naiya asked as she wiped away her tears.

“Carson just hit on me, and I didn’t even blink. Russell called with his crap, I told him where to ‘step-off’ as you would say.”

“You did? Wait, Carson did what?”

Destini laughed. “I’m better than good. I’m free. Took me a minute to process that night, what I gave into. What boundaries I crossed. I understand me, my sexuality, and who I am, including who I am not.”

Naiya nodded.

Destini smiled. “And the best part of it is you were right. Looks like I was able to pick up the best part of Rain. She’s with me now.”

Naiya watched her turn to get her purse. “You writing again?”

“You know it. I’ll email you the latest. I think you’ll really like the new and improved Rain. The readers do.”

“Dez, don’t go. Don’t leave.”

“Help me carry my stuff to the car.”

Naiya cut her off. “Our friendship? What about that?”

“Time. It’ll take time for us to be friends again, Naiya. The good news is I still want to be.”

Naiya smiled. “Me too. Me too.”

Twelve

The First Day at Gaylor Prep

“Ms. Sanders, this way please.”

A petite woman in a dark, conservative suit stepped back for her to rise. Destini looked up from her bench seat. The boarding school was where the elite sent their kids until adulthood. The staff as well as the students all resided on the 600-acre estate. She’d already moved into the cutest two-bedroom cottage, and her salary meant she could finally do the things she wanted and invest more into her writing. Gaylor Preparatory was a dream come true.

Rising, Destini slipped her purse higher on her shoulder and nodded she’d follow. The long, drafty hall echoed their footsteps. She noticed the pictures of the Chancellors, a testament to the school’s rich history. She was drawn to one in particular. A portrait of the Gaylors dated twenty-four years ago. Destini stepped closer. It was of Mitchell Gaylor and his wife Arlene. A handsome couple posed for the painter with twin boys. Very stoic looking little boys who appeared to be no older than four or five.

“This way, please.”

Destini forced herself to look away from the children’s haunted eyes.

“Yes, okay.”

Destini walked through the large abbey doors that were opened for her.

“Ms. Sanders, you’ve arrived,” Mrs. Brichton said, hanging up the phone. The Director of Admissions and Human Resources was a lot warmer than Destini expected. Everyone seemed so stiff. This woman, who looked to be in her late forties with fiery red hair and blue eyes set upon a freckled face, was a breath of fresh air.

“Welcome. I’m Delores Brichton.”

Destini extended her hand and shook it. “Thank you. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Brichton.”

“Have you settled in? Your things?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes. I’m settled in. Everyone has been very kind.”

“Great.” Mrs. Brichton checked the time on her watch. She clapped her hands together. “Let me give you the tour. Shall we?”

Destini nodded, and they walked out of the office with wall-to-wall bookshelves and conservative furnishings. The stony floor echoed their steps in harmony as they went.

“Mrs. Daniels, please inform the Chancellor that Ms. Sanders is here. I’ll be bringing her over shortly.”

“Yes, Madame.”

Mrs. Brichton gestured for them to turn down the next hall. “Of course the bottom level is the administrative floor. I have an office, as do all the Directors and teachers. Let me show you to yours.”

“The teachers have their own offices?” Destini asked.

“Of course. We’re really excited about the test scores from the students at Wellington. I’m told by Mr. Carson that’s to your credit and some of the curriculum ideas you pushed through the public school system. It’s one of the reasons I recruited you so heavily. His endorsement is highly respected here.

“I’m aware that he sits on the board. So it’s a real honor to have him endorse me,” she said.

“We can discuss the details later, but we’d like to institute more testing for our elementary studies. You would oversee it.”

Destini beamed. She had plenty of ideas that a private institution would be receptive to, in contrast to the state-mandated prudence of Wellington. “I’d love to.”

“Here we are,” Mrs. Brichton said. She opened the door and smiled. Destini stepped inside. The office was the size of her condo. What would be her desk was at its center, but pushed back toward large windows. Its high-back leather chair turned away as though its last occupant had been enjoying the spectacular view. Slowly the office chair swiveled and Destini came face to face with the Chancellor.

“Chancellor Carson. I was going to bring her to your office, sir.”

Bryce Carson stood. He smiled. “I heard she was here. Welcome to Gaylor Preparatory, Ms. Sanders. I’ve been anxiously waiting for your arrival.”

“Ms. Sanders, I’m sure he needs no further introduction. His family founded Gaylor Preparatory. He just recently accepted the position of Chancellor upon his brother’s departure to Ireland.”

“I know this must be a shock,” he said, extending his hand.

Destini’s arm rose like a robot to accept the handshake. Her mouth closed, and she swallowed hard, unable to speak. Bryce smile was sly to his lips, holding her hand, rubbing the ball of his thumb into her palm.