The gentle fragrance of spring danced in the air, persisting in its fruitless squabble against the wretched smell of car exhausts that hung around the city. I was bound homeward, sufficiently exhausted by a long day out.
My eyes came across a familiar face and I screeched to a halt. My high school maths teacher, Miss Emily, was slouched on a bench, puffing on a cigarette. It had been about two years since I last saw her and she had hardly changed, save for her hair which had shifted from a vibrant red to brown with slivers of blonde
She glanced upwards and met my gaze, her mouth curving into a fond smile.
"Hi there, Miss," I mumbled, too stricken by the look in her eyes to do much else. They were a pale, icy blue. Hardly reflective of her personality. She was quick with a quip, easy to laugh.
Before I knew it she had bounced to her feet and wrapped her arms around me. I awkwardly returned her embrace, my heart bouncing like crazy. Her head rested against my shoulder and I stood there motionless as a startled fawn. She stepped back and looked me up and down, nodding to herself.
"You've changed a lot," she said in a vaguely accusatory manner.
"And you haven't changed a bit," I said, suddenly being reminded of how easy it felt to banter with her.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Quite a while."
She tapped her cheek with her finger, as if in deep thought. "Care to catch up over a drink or two? There's a bar nearby and..." She trailed off, making it a question.
Only then did I notice that the exhaustion that had plagued me as I was walking back home had fled my body. "Sounds lovely," I said.
She offered me her arm and I took it. We fell into step, chatting idly of matters insignificant.
Now this might seem weird to most people. But this had always been the way our relationship functioned. Physical contact was not a rarity. Not in any sexual or romantic way, of course, as back then I was barely eighteen and she was nearing thirty but it was always there.
We took to a silent corner of the bar, ordered our drinks and spoke of many things, most of which profoundly stupid. The lighting of the bar helped me get a better look at all of her, which left me quite befuddled. Miss Emily was wearing a dangerously tight dress that highlighted every curve of her body and framed her cleavage in a way that made it nearly impossible not to look. I did my best to resist. She was my teacher and a married woman. Only she wasn't wearing a ring. Not that I cared...
We downed two drinks in quick succession and exhausted most branches of light conversation. As strong as my willpower might be, the alcohol bested me and my eyes wandered to the bareness of her chest a couple of times. I thought I caught the barest hint of a smile on her lips each time it happened.
I was quite curious what she was doing alone on a bench in the late evening dressed as she was but I refrained from asking. I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
After a long while, we paid our bill and made for the exit. It seemed our night together was approaching its final act.
"My place is that way," she said and pointed vaguely to the south.
"I'm in the opposite direction," I said, "But I can walk you home."
"My, my, what a gentleman," she teased and hooked her arm around mine.
We walked in pure silence, a rather uncommon occurrence for us, and I simply appreciated the nearness of her. The way her body felt against pressed against mine. The way her perfume overwhelmed all and any scents. I was dreading the moment we'd arrive at her house and I had to let go of her. Who knows when I'd see her again? Probably never.
"Here we are," she said with a sigh that could be interpreted in many ways.
"Here we are," I repeated, doing my best to conceal my sadness.
I think she took notice of my tone and leaned forward to give me a consoling peck on the cheek. "Thank you for the fun night," she said.
"It was my pleasure," I said and flashed my best smile.
"Well, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Miss Emily turned to open the door but suddenly paused, letting her hand linger on the handle. She looked to me, biting her lip slightly. "It's not terribly late. Would you care to have another drink?"
There was only one answer to that question. "Yes."
She led us up to her apartment. My heart was pounding harder and harder with every step. Soon as we were inside, she kicked off her heels, slumping to a height no higher than my chest, just as I had remembered.
She pointed me to the couch and there I waited for what felt like an eternity, too stunned by the ludicrousness of the situation to maintain a proper perception of time.
Lo and behold, she arrived, two glasses of presumably whiskey in her hands.
"Thank you, Miss," I said as she reached out to give me one of them.
She stopped mid-motion, frowning at me playfully. "Emily. My name is Emily."
