Emily met Hayden six months ago.
He noticed her staring at him in a park as she walked her Jack Russell puppy. She couldn't help it. He was tall, with shoulder-length dark hair. He was dressed in dark clothes. She had never seen anyone like him in her little, conservative town; she knew he must be new. She stared at him with a mix of shock and fascination. He was sitting at the base of a maple tree with his legs stretched out. He was reading an old book, which seemed incongruous to his appearance. She felt her pulse race as she watched him.
Hayden had glanced up, immediately sensing Emily's presence. He smiled. It was a confident, knowing smile. He met her gaze intensely with bright golden-brown eyes, forcing her own gray eyes down, her head to bow- staring at her own slightly chubby figure. And it was as if drawing her closer. He spoke first, asking her name in a tone that felt commanding without impoliteness, and she answered with her small voice. He quickly drew her into conversation, pulling information out of the shy, sheltered girl so fast it left her breathless and blushing. Her age, who she was with (her mother and father had driven there). As he stood up, taking a step closer to bend down and stroke her puppy's neck, she went warm all over.
"So, um...you're new here, right?" Emily asked after a moment.
"Yes."
She paused, unsure of what else to say. She noticed his book again. "Hey, um, what are you reading?" She hoped that she didn't sound nosy.
"It's about music. Mostly the history of instruments, like guitars."
"Oh! Um, I play guitar. A little, I mean."
"Yeah? So do I." He looked interested.
Hayden was far more advanced than Emily was, but he seemed impressed that she was trying to learn on her own. And as they discussed their mutual interest, he suddenly offered to help her with learning guitar. She was surprised. Impulsively she agreed- it sounded innocent enough- and he gave her his address. He told her to visit around noon, on Sunday, to spend half an hour or so learning from him.
She walked back to the car with the feeling of warmth flowing through her entire body. It felt good.
***
When Emily arrived at Hayden's apartment that weekend, she hesitated before knocking. She wanted his help, and she wanted to see him again, in part just to figure out why someone like him would move to a place like this. Yet she was unsure of how to act. Still living at home, she spent almost all of her time with her family or her few close friends. She rarely went anywhere by herself. In this case, she had only told her parents that she was going to "drive around."
Taking a deep breath, Emily finally gave the door a firm knock. Within seconds, Hayden answered. He was wearing a black, short-sleeved, button-up shirt and black jeans, a little neater than what he had worn when she first saw him. She wondered if he had dressed that way for her. No,
Hayden moved aside. "Come in," he said in way of greeting. She stepped in. His apartment was large and felt empty. There was little personalization, but open boxes were scattered around the living room, so she assumed that he had not finished unpacking. There was no television, but there were several books scattered around But what surprised her was what was on the coffee table in front of the couch: A neat stack of books and a hand-written list of chords next to a pen. The books-there were about 10, ranged from beginner to intermediate guitar lessons. "Wow," she said, trying to work out how to phrase her surprise. "Um, I thought you were just going to, um, help me a little. Like just for fun...This looks like a lot-"
"Do you want to learn or do you just want to have fun?" There was a tone of contempt in his voice. "Because from the way it sounded, you need more than a little help." She turned to him, expecting to see a smile to indicate that he was joking with her.
He wasn't smiling. "How many songs do you know?" He sat on the couch, and gestured for her to come over. "Sit down."
"I don't know any, I'm sorry." She sat on the other side of the couch, and wondered why she apologized. "I guess I do need a lot of help. I really wanted lessons when I first started but I couldn't afford them."
"Well, now you can have them." Hayden finally smiled. Emily smiled back, and began to relax.
***
Hayden conducted the lessons in a surprisingly formal way. But there was something in his attitude that was somehow more intimate than Emily expected. and there was something else about him that she couldn't identify. She found him patient in his teaching, but firm in his instruction. When she would arrive, he would greet her almost coldly, no matter how friendly she was. He would inform her of the chords, and in later weeks, songs, that he would teach her. When he told her to practice something in front of him or at home during the week, she would do so; there would be no excuses. If she did not practice the new chord to his satisfaction that week, he would not allow her to continue the next lesson until she perfected that one chord in front of him, as her cheeks burned. She sometimes suspected that he enjoyed her embarrassment.
He never asked Emily if she felt like practicing, he would not request her to study the books he gave her. He simply told her, and she found herself enjoying the weekly orders more than what they taught her. She loved the way he touched her shoulder lightly at the end of each lesson, forcing her to look directly at him, before telling her what to practice that week. The way he would watch her, with his authoritative gaze as she agreed and complied gave her shivers. She always complied.
As the weeks went by, Hayden began sit closer to her as she played, correcting her hand positions and posture. Her closed her eyes whenever he grasped her waist to straighten slightly her hunched body- a result of her shy nature, almost an attempt to hide herself with her own body. But he did not allow it- he told Emily that playing that way would hurt her after awhile.
He corrected her kindly and without fuss when she made mistakes, but she hated disappointing him, and frequently apologized to him. When she did well, though, the most satisfying feeling, more than from the accomplishment itself, was from his words: "Good job."
***
After a couple months, they began to talk more to each other, having long conversations, particularly about their pasts and their families. They found things in common that surprised them both. They both had controlling parents and few friends. Emily confided in Hayden that she knew very little about life, and that being away from her family, while giving her a sense of freedom, usually scared her as well. He, on the other hand, seemed to have no sense of fear. He had run away at 16 and now, at 21, he had finally found a steady job. It was at a small thrift store in town. He hated it, he told her, but it felt good to settle down- at least for now.
He also told her that he had grown up just a few miles away from town.
"I wish I had met you a long time ago," Emily told him during one conversation.
Hayden raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?"
She blushed slightly and shrugged.
He leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs. "If I had met you when I was a kid, I would have fucked up your life, trust me."
"Well...but isn't that better than being bored all the time?"
He had almost smiled then. "Maybe. Yeah, maybe."
"Hey, what's that?" She pointed to a new-looking book an a stand at his his of the couch.
He picked it up and handed it to her. "Oh, yeah. It's about BDSM. Do you know what that is?"
"No." She opened it up to read the contents.
"Bondage, discipline, domination, submission, sadism, masochism."
"Oh." She skimmed through a few pages."So it's about sex."
"It's not always sexual. But a lot of it is. You can borrow it if you want."
"Sure. Thanks. I kind of have heard of some of this." She felt surprisingly relaxed.
"What do you think of that kind of thing?"
