Teaching Willow: Session One by Paige James Read Free Book Online Page A

the back of the room and call for one more report.
    I let my eyes travel back to Willow again, this time not trying to look away.  “What about you, Ms. Masters?  What truth did you reveal about yourself in your work?”
    I see her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a pretty rose.  God, I love it when she blushes.  The color in her face makes her even more beautiful.  And now, it’ll be a turn-on, too, since I got to watch Sage blush when I talked to her about her perfect pussy.  I’m sure Willow’s looks just like that—soft pink and dripping wet.
    “I, um, I think that my work reveals my empathy for others, my ability to effectively put myself in their shoes,” she says quickly and quietly.
    “How so? Can you be more specific?”
    Even from this distance, I can see her pupils dilate.  The pale blue of her eyes suddenly darkens to near-black.  I shouldn’t push her like this, especially not in class, but…here I am.  Pushing her.  Because it’s the only time I can.
    “Uh, well, my…story is told as it happens to my sister. I feel that some empathy toward her…feelings was necessary to adequately portray them in the work.”
    “And did you use empathy to portray any other characters in the story?  Or did you just…wing it?”
    “I just winged it. I don’t have the insight into the other character that I had with…her.”
    “Would it be helpful to have those insights? Do you feel it would change anything? Or do you feel like your story is as…authentic as it can be?”
    Willow fidgets in her seat.  Is it just because I’m putting her on the spot?  Or is it because she likes the idea of getting inside my head, of finding out how I would react in real life to her imaginary scenarios?
    If she were writing her own story, what would she write?  How much of her story is her sister?  And how much is actually her?  I’m betting on—maybe even hoping on—most of it being her.  The thought of her being so free on the inside, when she’s so reserved on the outside, is like an aphrodisiac.  I want to see her come out of that shell.  With claws bared and an insatiable appetite. 
    “I…I…I didn’t really write any of it from another perspective.”
    “But the other characters must play some kind of role?”
    “Yes, but…”
    “Did you use your empathy in order to make their responses true to their personality?”
    She swallows hard.  “I hope I did.”
    “And there is your truth,” I say softly.  No one says a word, but Willow frowns in confusion, which is for the best. She need not know how I feel, how I would react. It’s better if that remains information that she has no access to.
    I’ll have to be more careful in the future.  I didn’t mean to speak aloud.  I can’t make a mistake like that again.  No one can know…
    No one can know…
     

NINE- WILLOW
     
    Oh my god!  My face is on fire, my hands are shaking and I’m pretty sure someone has reached down my throat to fist their fingers around my stomach in a death grip. 
    Does he know?  Could Ebon possibly know?
    He has never acted like that in class before. He’s never acted like that anywhere before.  Not to me, at least.  Either he knows that the other night was all a ruse or he’s…he’s…he’s what?  Teasing me?  Trying to get me to admit something or do something?  Maybe.  But what?  What could he possibly want from me?
    I stop on the way to my car.  He did tell “Sage” that he wanted me to finish the story.  Maybe he wants to know more about how she feels about him.  Or maybe he was trying to tell me that he wants to give me input on how he feels about her.
    Bile rises in the back of my throat.  I don’t think I could sit and listen to him gush about my sister for the sake of my story.  It’s my story.  With him.  His relationship with Sage has no place there, no business there.
    Of course, Ebon doesn’t know that.  In fact, he thinks that’s exactly what the story is about.
    I resume