“I’m fine,” Dean assured her.
Kate arched her eyebrows. “Okay, as our students are so fond of saying… pants on fire.” She tilted her head. “You want me to leave you alone?”
“Actually? No. Can we go someplace and talk?” Maybe another perspective would help.
“Sure. Your classroom is closest.” She grinned. “Unless you really want to have a conversation next door to the girls’ locker room?”
“It wouldn’t be my first choice, no.” Dean got up, and they left the room. When they reached his classroom, they went inside, and Dean closed the door behind them. He sat at his desk, and Kate grabbed a chair and pulled it up.
She opened her lunch box, took a fork from her purse, and sat back. “Okay. Spill.”
He told her about Robin’s visit Monday evening and their subsequent conversation. Kate listened while she ate, nodding occasionally, and snorting at least once, fortunately not at a moment when her mouth was full. When he was done, Dean took a drink. “So there you have it.”
“What’s next?
Dean widened his eyes. “You’re asking me? Why do you think I’m in such a mess? I don’t know what to do.”
Kate pursed her lips. “Let’s try this from another angle. Tell me about Robin. The Robin you know, not the one I remember as a student.”
“That’s the weird part. When he was a student here, I hardly noticed him—well, certainly not like I’m noticing him now. He was merely another student. Oh, he was good at building the sets and painting them, but as for him being someone I’d be interested in?” Dean shrugged. “You don’t see students like that, right?”
“You and I don’t, sure, but there are some twisted fucks out there who do, unfortunately.” Kate ate another bite of her salad. “Okay, back to Robin.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, how does he act around you?”
Dean considered the question. “Well… when he’s not tongue-tied or coming out with requests for me to fuck him… He can be focused, mature… There’s a depth to him.”
“Do you think he’s attractive?”
Dean smiled. “He’s gorgeous. Those eyes, that smile…”
Kate chuckled. “Wow.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said airily. “It’s this look you get when you talk about him. So tell me… if you were to follow through on his requests… would it be just sex? Because if that’s all it is, and you’re interested, I’d say go for it. Like we said on Sunday, he’s legal. But if it’s more than sex… there are ramifications.” Another wry chuckle. “I have to say, I like his approach. It’s a little unconventional, yet clichéd at the same time.”
“Isn’t that what I said? I’ve become a walking cliché.”
Kate cocked her head. “Is it just sex?”
Dean snorted. “It isn’t even that yet. I think what bothers me most is the age gap.”
Kate put down her lunch box. “Can I tell you something? A couple of years ago, I went to the wedding of my eleventh grade English teacher, Mr. Matthews. And the only reason I’m mentioning this is because the guy he married—Kevin—was in the same class as me in high school. I thought how remarkable it was that they’d met up years later and fallen in love. What I didn’t know was that they got together when Kevin was twenty, two years after he graduated, and they’ve been together ever since. So fourteen years is not an unsurmountable obstacle. These kinds of relationships do happen, and they can go the distance.” Her gaze met his. “If that’s what you want.”
Dean was shocked into stillness for a second, bowled over by the very idea that more could come of this than merely a physical relationship. He couldn’t even contemplate such a thing.
“Robin’s eighteen,” he said at last when he found his voice. “So young, so impetuous…”
“Okay, but think about how he came to you and laid it all out. How mature do you need to be to approach this kind of situation head on? Not to mention damn brave. And all I’m saying is, go into this with your eyes—and your heart—open.” Kate smiled. “And now I’ll leave you alone. It seems to me you still have some thinking to do.” She got up, walked over to him, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
As she closed the door behind her, Dean came to the conclusion he was still a mess, and that going over the situation over and over in his head was not the way to go. He pulled his phone from his pocket and found Robin’s number.
You got a minute?
Seconds later, a reply pinged back. Sure. On my lunch break. Something wrong?
Are we okay to talk? Dean figured his dad might think it weird for Robin to be getting a call from him. His phone buzzed, and he clicked Answer. “I guess that’s a yes.”
Robin laughed. “Make it quick. I’m outside, freezing my butt off. Dad’s in the office.”
“Could you come over this evening, after you’ve eaten? I think we need to talk.”
There was a pause. “Sure, I can do that.” Another pause. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few days. I guess you’ve been doing the same. It’s a no, isn’t it?” Fuck, he sounded so down.
Right then Dean had no clue what it was. “Just get your butt over to my house, okay? Any time after seven. I’ll see you then. Now get inside and warm up.” He disconnected.
A glance at the clock on the wall told him there was no more time for contemplation. He had a class to teach.
Thoughts of Robin would have to wait.
Robin studied his reflection in the mirror. His jeans were clean—now there was a miracle—and his cream sweater looked good on him. If anything, he thought it made him appear a little older, which was no bad thing.
God, why did you have to give me such a baby face?
Robin had never taken so long in the shower. So long, in fact, he’d expected a comment from his mom, but nothing had materialized. Maybe Dad had taken her aside after the last Kleenex comment and mentioned how she was embarrassing the fuck out of him. Not that he could imagine his dad using those exact words, but…
“Robin?”
“Coming, Mom.” One last glance in the mirror assured him he looked okay. He stuffed his feet into his boots, grabbed his coat and wool hat, and left the bedroom.
Mom arched her eyebrows as he came into the living room. “Going someplace?”
“Yeah,” he said as casually as he could manage. “Thought I’d go ride my bike.”
Dad glanced up from his phone. “Again? You on some health kick you haven’t told us about?”
“Actually, I got a call from… Ben Taylor. He said I could come over and play on his PlayStation with him.” He hated lying, but it was way better than telling the truth.
Mom frowned. “Ben? I know that name.”
Robin nodded. “He graduated the same time as me. I ran into him when I went skiing on Saturday.” He held his breath, sighing inwardly with relief when no more questions were forthcoming. “I won’t be back late.”