*Note to readers. I recently found myself looking through my high school year book for the first time in several years. As I always do, I remember with great fondness my beautiful, former English teacher, a married woman with whom I had a rather lengthy affair my senior year. Teacher-student affairs aren't common, but they certainly aren't rare by any means. Those involving very young students are very different than those involving someone who is 18. Some find both cases immoral and disgusting. I agree on the former, but strongly disagree on the latter.
That affair, of course, always reminds me of the other, much briefer affair I had with a beautiful, married Mormon woman during the summer after graduating from high school. The Mormon woman was so racked with guilt that after we slept together I thought she might have a nervous breakdown. That relationship effectively ended shortly thereafter. We never went out in public and the reasons why are obvious.
My former teacher however, was as deeply hooked as I was, and in spite of her many concerns, we went to great lengths to find ways to be together in public. We often drove forty or fifty miles just to go to dinner or a movie and once we drove from Seattle to Portland to spend a weekend together.
This story draws on both experiences to show the very real difficulties involved in this kind of affair and the fiery passions that cause people to take such risks.
If you haven't read my own personal stories about these experiences, please take a look at Creative Writing and Bagging Lauren. This story is, of course, purely fictional.
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"Yes, hello? I was trying to reach Janet. Is she home?"
"No, I'm sorry. May I take a message?"
"Do you expect her soon? I thought she got home around ten?"
"No, sorry. She just went back to working graveyard. She left a little before ten. This is her son. Is there something I could maybe help you with?"
"Oh, hi. Um....this is Erica Roberts. I just moved in across the street. Your mom and I spoke briefly yesterday and she gave me this number to call if I ever needed something."
"Oh, okay. She mentioned a new couple moved in. My name's Kyle, by the way. Sorry for not getting over to say hello yet, but welcome to the neighborhood. This is some crazy weather for your first day, huh?"
"Thank you. That's very kind and yes it is crazy weather. The reason I was calling is my husband's gone—again—and, well, I know this is going to sound silly, but it sounds like there's someone outside. I don't know anyone else and I didn't know who to call. Can you possibly look outside and just tell me if you see anyone?"
"Um...sure. Hold on." Kyle set the phone down, went over to the window and looked across the street. It was very dark, raining like cats and dogs, and the wind was howling and blowing like hell.
"Mrs. Roberts? I looked but I can barely see your house. It's so nasty out there I can't really see much beyond the street light. Would you like me to come over and take a look?"
"This is so embarrassing, but yes, would you mind? I feel terrible asking, but I won't be able to relax or go to sleep until I'm sure."
"No, that's okay. I'll come take a look for you. I'm sure it's just the wind blowing something and banging against something else. It's really blowing out there."
"You know. That's okay. I don't want to trouble you. I guess I should have called the police, huh? Now I feel really silly."
"Nonsense, Mrs. Roberts. I'll be right there. Let me just grab my raincoat and a flashlight. I didn't see any lights in your house. Is your power still on?"
"Yes, the electricity is fine. I turned the lights off because I'm so afraid. It's that pounding noise. Do you really not mind?"
"Not at all. I'll be right there, okay?"
"Thank you, Kyle. Thank you so much."
He went upstairs and grabbed his raincoat and rain pants along with a large flashlight, thinking it would serve as a weapon if needed without realizing it would be worthless against a knife or a gun.
It was just after 10:30 at night and he knew he'd still get pretty wet in spite of the rain gear. The wind was blowing so hard the rain was coming down sideways which meant he'd essentially be taking a shower fully clothed. But he also knew he'd been raised with a strong sense of altruism and helping women was one of things men did just because. Even those who, like him, were barely men in the legal sense.
Having just turned 18 a month ago, Kyle McLawhorn was legally a man, but in most senses, he was a still a boy who attended high school and lived at home with his widowed mother. He'd lost his father five years ago when the Minneapolis police office was shot and killed during a raid on a meth lab in an abandoned home near the city limits.
Kyle loved and admired his father for the way he'd dedicated his life to helping and serving others. It was times like this that his example stood tallest in Kyle's mind, and he knew his father would be doing this very thing were he alive. To do anything else would be dishonoring his memory.
Kyle was a paradox to a lot of people. He was a high-school senior who played football and wrestled, but who was also captain of the debate team. There were few topics in life that didn't interest him and when he wasn't playing sports, he was reading. It didn't matter what; he just loved to read. Science, history, medicine, geography, archeology, politics, religion, the military. Virtually everything in the world around him fascinated him from the Big Bang to things that went bang.
Blessed with very good looks and an equally capable mind, he nevertheless preferred spending a Friday night at home reading a book or doing research on line to hanging out with friends or partying—a code word used by high school students for getting drunk or high—two things Kyle never did. To him, that was the ultimate waste of time and life was too short to spend in an alternate state of reality when reality itself was so incredibly interesting.
He did his share of dating, but the really attractive girls who hung around him to no end, held no interest for him. Sure, it was fun to go out and even make out—or more—but if the girl couldn't talk about something deeper than Jersey Shore or The Bachelorette, that was it. If she knew who Snooki was, but had never heard of Sigmund Freud or Stephen Hawking, she was vacuous, and there wouldn't be a second date, and that was okay with Kyle as he was in no hurry to get serious with anyone. He planned to go to college, start a career, and then try and find someone with similar interests with whom he could one day raise a family and there was plenty of time for that.
He came back downstairs, flipped on the front porch light, then turned on the flashlight, and headed outside. Before he even got to the street, his shoes and socks were drenched and water was dripping inside his hood in spite of having cinched it down as tightly as he could.
He entered Mrs. Robert's yard and saw her turn on her front porch light. He waggled the flashlight at her her front door letting her know he was outside. He quickly walked the entire perimeter of the house, and soon found the guilty culprit out back. There was a sheet of asphalt roofing shingles sticking out of a wood pile and the wind was whipping it up and down on the patio causing a loud slapping sound. He pulled the shingles out, laid them flat, and covered them with two bricks laying nearby, then finished his walk around.
Satisfied nothing else was making any noise and that no intruders were nearby, he rang the front doorbell. Kyle knew she was waiting there as he'd seen her following him from room to room as he glanced in through any window he passed as he walked by.
She opened the door and said over the wind and rain, "Please come inside!"
He stepped in as she quickly closed the door behind him. To his surprise she had two large towels with her. "Don't worry about the water," she told him as he dripped everywhere. "Go ahead and take off your wet weather gear and you can use this one to dry off with."
Once he'd done that, she used the other towel to sop up as much of the watery mess he'd made as she could before hanging his rain gear on a coatrack. The foyer was tile so anything she didn't get now could easily be cleaned up when he left.
As he finished briskly toweling his hair and wiping his face, he lowered the heavy cotton towel and saw his new neighbor for the first time. He knew he'd done a double take but tried to recover and not stare. He'd been expecting a much older, very matronly-looking woman, but instead saw a somewhat older, very attractive woman smiling at him.
"Kyle? Hi, I'm Mrs. Roberts. I can't thank you enough for doing this in that weather. It's just awful out there! I was freezing just watching you walk around."
"Oh, you're very welcome," he said trying not to stare. She was quite a bit younger than his own 43-year old mother who worked as a registered nurse at the Fairview Southdale Hospital. She looked to be somewhere around 30 and she was simply gorgeous. He took a second quick look and smiled at her as he did. Her hair was parted on one side and fell to her shoulders. It was very dark, long, and silky. Her eyes were a beautiful emerald green, and she had a dazzling white smile. His eyes flew across her body as he pretended to be looking down at his feet and he couldn't help but notice it was as attractive as her face.
"Sorry about all the mess," he said as they both saw the puddle around his shoes.
