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

my walk with a big sigh hovering in my chest.  I’ve done this to myself.  I should never have written the story in the first place.  None of this would be happening if I had just kept my imagination to myself.  But those old demons…they came upon me so unexpectedly. My reaction to Ebon was…intense.  I thought I was finally over all that happened those years ago, over all those feelings, but…evidently not.  Practically every sentence in my story screams that I still have issues. Unresolved issues. I’m just glad Sage didn’t see it that way.  I don’t know what she thought of it, other than it was a great piece of fiction.  But she’s not exactly the most perceptive person in the world.  I love her and she’s my sister, but she can be a bit self-involved.
    None of this really helps me figure out what I’m supposed to do, though.  Should I ask Ebon?
    No! my mind yells before the question is even a complete thought.
    Then what? What should I do?
    Nothing, I answer. It’s the only thing I can do.
    I’m nearly at my car when I hear someone calling my name.  I turn to find Tiffany running toward me.
    “Wait!  Aren’t you staying for practice?  I thought you said you were.”
    Shit!  Play practice.
    “Oh, uh, yeah. I am. I was just, um, dropping my books off.  I thought I’d go get some coffee beforehand. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
    Tiffany’s face falls.  “So we’re not having dinner like we usually do?”
    Shit!
    “Of course we are.  Duh!” I exclaim, slapping my forehead.  “See?  No sleep. It doesn’t look good on me.”
    How could I forget about play practice?  I know how.  Ebon.  He’s taking over my life in an unhealthy way.  I’d say my old therapist might consider this some kind of obsession.  And it might be.  But at this point, I don’t care.  It’s not going to lead anywhere, so what difference does it make?
    “Come on then, sleepyhead, let’s get a sub.”
    I go through the motions with Tiffany.  I listen to her talk about her latest accomplishments in class, which sound incredibly boring to a literature geek like myself.  But she’s my friend and I give her my undivided attention (as undivided as it can possibly be in this instance) and I ask questions to show my interest. 
    She finally moves on to the play, which I’m a little more enthusiastic about.   Volunteering to help with the set and the costumes of the drama class’s production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet was her idea.  She begged me to volunteer as well, citing my knowledge of the work itself.  I agreed because at the time it sounded like fun and I could see Tiffany’s point about it broadening our social horizons. Plus, it gets her out of the house for a few more hours a week.
    But now I don’t want to go.  I just want to go home and think about Ebon and mull over every moment of our time together and how best to go forward.
    When we arrive at the arts center, I put on my most interested expression as I go about my duties, Tiffany rambling happily at my side.  Of course I’m familiar with the scene being rehearsed.  It’s the scene where Juliet seeks the help of Friar Lawrence and they hatch a plan for her to take the poison, which makes her seem dead for a short while, in order that she can be reunited with Romeo.
    It’s quite possible that no one in the room understands such desperation as perfectly as I do.  Not that I would poison myself to be with Ebon, but I’ve gone to great and somewhat extreme lengths—lying, pretending to be someone I’m not, having sex with him under very false pretenses—to spend some time with him not as student and teacher, but as…lovers.
    The ladies in the dressing room need a different set of costumes, so I make my way around stage left with an armful of velvet that smells like a musty closet. I nearly trip over my own feet when I look out into the auditorium and see Ebon talking with Mr. Hildenbrand, the theater