Hot For Teacher (45 page)

              “Hey, Mom,” Savannah greeted flatly when her mother picked up on the sixth ring.

              “Hey, Vanna. How was your first day?” Her mother’s voice sounded strained and distracted, as always. No surprise there. Yet, Savannah would get an earful the next time she called if she dared skip a week.
Go figure.

              “It was great,” she answered half-heartedly. Not that it wasn’t. She actually enjoyed all her classes. One in particular a bit more than expected. But her mom didn’t really care. It was small talk, nothing more. No point in throwing unnecessary enthusiasm around. 

              “That’s nice, honey,” her mother responded absently. Savannah would bet her entire undergraduate tuition that her mother would’ve replied the same way if she’d told her she’d burnt the math building down.
Nothing.

              “Um… do you remember Preston’s old friend, Jake?”

              Silence on the other end. No more rustling as her mother multitasked. Not even the sound of her breathing. Nothing.
Now
her mother was listening.
Odd.

              Savannah opened her mouth to press the subject, but thought better of it.  It was the first time her mother had shown any interest in anyone other than Preston since the accident. Best let her take the lead.

              Her mother finally exhaled a long, ragged breath.              

              “Yes.” The word was spoken with caution, slow and drawn out, with a question mark at the end, as though her mother was about to tiptoe through a mine field blindfolded and wanted to know if she
really
had to.

              Curiosity piqued, Savannah pressed on. “Well, he’s my history professor.”

              “Is it too late to transfer to a different class?”

              “Um, why on earth would I do that? Jake is an amazing teacher. He’s so… so… passionate about the subject matter. I think I might actually enjoy this class.” Warmth flooded her cheeks at the thought of the unspoken reasons she would thoroughly enjoy every last second of history class. Her mother didn’t need to know how much she loved watching Jake pace the floor as he lectured. She didn’t need to know how the rich, husky timbre of his voice left Savannah spellbound. Irrelevant details, nothing more.

              “Stay away from that boy, Savannah,” her mother snapped with more passion than Savannah had heard in over a decade.

              “He’s hardly a boy, Mom,” Savannah protested, taken aback by the venom in her mother’s tone. “He’s a grown man with a PhD.”

              “I don’t care if he’s the Dali Llama or the President of the United States. Jake Anderson is nothing but trouble.”

              Grateful her mother couldn’t see her through the phone, Savannah gave that comment the great, big eye roll it deserved.
Parents and their dramatics.
“Geez, Mom. How much trouble do you really think a pre-med student on an academic scholarship can get into in history class? I have no intention of doing anything but studying and getting good grades.”

              “Then I don’t see why you couldn’t do it here at home,” her mother argued for the millionth time.

              Savannah sighed. ‘
Because living with you and Preston was toxic and I couldn’t breathe’,
didn’t seem like the smartest answer, so she stuck with the usual. “You know why, Mom. This school has the highest acceptance rate for my top medical school choices.”

              “There are perfectly good schools here at home,” her mother bristled.

              “I know, but I’m where I need to be,” Savannah assured her. She couldn’t bite back the retort on the tip of her tongue any longer, acerbically adding, “Come on, Mom. Be honest for a minute. You haven’t even noticed I’m gone.”

              It was a low blow, for sure, but the truth of this statement twisted like a knife in Savannah’s chest. Ever since the accident, she’d been invisible in her own home. It was almost like she’d died when Preston’s truck hit that tree. But she hadn’t. She was very much alive and very much aware of her insignificance in a home that revolved around her brother’s twenty-four hour convalescent care.

              “That’s not true,” her mother half-heartedly protested.

              It wasn’t worth arguing, so Savannah remained silent.             

              “I miss you, baby,” her mother added absently.

              “I miss you too, Mom,” Savannah sighed. And she did. She missed her mother with every inch of her heart. Just not the woman she’d left behind in Spring Valley. She missed the one she’d lost the night Preston lost control of his body from the neck down.

              “I’ve got to go. Preston needs me.”

              Savannah wanted to scream that she needed her too. But it wouldn’t do any good. And it wasn’t true, not anymore anyway. She didn’t. She may as well have been orphaned at eight years old, because she’d been on her own ever since. She’d learned to fend for herself. She didn’t need anyone or anything anymore. Savannah smiled sadly at her empty dorm room. “I’m sure he does. Tell him ‘hi’ for me. Bye, Mom.”

             
Click.

              Savannah listened absently to the
beep, beep, beep
of the dial tone for several minutes before she remembered to click the end button on the phone. She stared blankly at the bare walls of her dorm. Nothing in the room. Nothing on the now silent phone line. Nothing in her life but text books and plans for the future. Emptiness all around her. Just like the emptiness inside her heart.

***

              Tires squealing. Voices shouting. The moment of impact. Airbags exploding. Glass shattering and metal crumpling like paper as Preston’s prized truck wrapped itself around the tree like an aluminum can shot out of a canon. Then silence, nothing but the same innocuous song playing on the radio as it had before the crash. 

              Every inch of Jake hurt. But he was alive and he could feel the pain.  His pulse thundering in his ears, he turned to glance across the cab at Preston. Pinned, beneath mangled metal, his best friend wasn’t moving. Slowly, Preston’s head rolled to the side to glare at him.

             
“You
did this to me. This is all
your
fault,” his best friend accused, hate glowing in his dark eyes.

              Jake shot upright in bed and swiped at the cold sweat of his brow. It was just another nightmare. After ten years, Preston still haunted him. True, the real Preston had never openly blamed him for the accident, but Jake carried the blame all the same. And dream-Preston would never let him forget. Not that Jake could forget that night if he tried. The painful memory was branded on his heart, a scar that would never fully heal…

             
“Jake, you’re smoking some serious shit if you think I’m gonna let you drive my truck,” Preston slurred, making another uncoordinated swipe for the keys in Jake’s hand.

              Jake shook his head at his inebriated best friend and stretched to keep the keys out of his reach. “I wasn’t the one who downed a whole bottle of Jack after the game, Preston. You’re lucky you’re still standing. No way could you drive home. Trust me. You’ll thank me tomorrow when your beloved truck is still in one piece.”

              Preston raised one unsteady finger, jabbing it uncomfortably close to Jake’s nose. “So much as one scratch on my baby, and I’ll kick your ass.”

              Jake smirked at that. “I’d love to see you try, Brother. But, no worries. I’ll get your precious truck home safe.”

              Preston chewed his lower lip as his muddled mind seemed to consider his options. His head bobbed in acceptance. “Fine.”

              Jake followed close behind his friend as he stumbled in the direction of the parked truck, shaking his head in bemused disgust.

              Preston was gifted, probably the most promising football player to set foot on the field in the history of their town. He was going places, if only he could keep his head on straight.

              The night’s game offered victory in more ways than an undefeated record and a championship title. There were scouts in those stands. And those scouts wanted Jake and Preston.

              So, the team gathered around a post-game bon fire to celebrate the stars of their town. They were going places, both of them. Jake had raised an eyebrow when Preston drew the stolen bottle of whiskey from his pack. His friend had always had it so easy, but had a habit of making it hard.

              Preston’s parents were more of a father and mother to Jake than his own would ever be. They gave their children everything. All Jake’s had ever given him was broken bones and an assortment of bruises.

              Jake could never quite understand why Preston rebelled against such love and privilege. But he vowed to keep an eye on his wayward friend, for the parents who loved him like a son.

              So, he watched in wary disgust as Preston alternated chugging the hard liquor like it was water and shoving his tongue down various cheerleaders’ throats. His friend was in party mode. He’d learned earlier on not to try to intervene. Preston would only become more reckless and belligerent if he did. So, Jake resolved himself to being his best friend’s safety net when the party was over.

              Hell, he’d gladly give Preston a piece of his liver if the dumb ass pickled his. It would be the least he could, for the family and life Preston shared with him.

              Because of Preston, Jake had a home. Because of him, he had a family. Jake would do anything to repay that kindness. Like babysit his drunk ass and sneak him in after Mom and Pop had gone to sleep.

              The two of them piled into Preston’s truck and headed back into town. The winding road through the woodlands that divided the lake shore from town was dark as always. But Jake chanced a sideways glance every minute or two to check on Preston. The idiot was still breathing. Thank God.

              He’d never seen Preston quite so messed up before. Something had to be very wrong. Sad thing was, Jake had a pretty good idea what it was.

              “So, I saw you making out with Tanya Nicholls tonight,” Jake led quietly, failing to mention the other five girls Preston had also been swapping spit with. “She’s cute. How long has that been going on for?”

              Preston rolled his head to glare at Jake. “Since Kodi started screwing someone else.”

              Jake swallowed- hard. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that? You and Kodi seemed so perfect for each other.”

              Preston cracked his knuckles in front of him. His expression was murderous as he glared out the windshield into the darkness with an unsteady gaze. “We were. Until she decided to screw anything with a dick.”

              “Maybe she’s not,” Jake suggested quietly, hoping not to poke the bear.

              “Bullshit!” Preston shouted, slamming his fist down on the dash in front of him. The hard plastic protested beneath the abuse, but didn’t break. Jake wasn’t sure if Preston’s hand faired so well. It might not hurt now while the booze numbed his nerves, but Preston would regret his temper in the morning. “Mike saw her car parked up at Shadow Point, windows all fogged up. There’s only one thing people go up to Shadow Point for and it sure as shit isn’t the view.”

              “Kodi wasn’t having sex with someone else up at Shadow Point, Preston,” Jake stated softly.

              Preston dark gaze could’ve carved diamonds. “Oh, yeah? And how the hell would you know that?” he snarled.

              The dude was belligerent when drunk. Like a shark when its eyes went black. Like Jake’s dad. Still, Preston was Jake’s best friend, his only family. And he would do anything to ease his pain.

              “Because it was me in the car with her that night,” Jake admitted, feeling the weight of his unwitting betrayal lift ever so slightly at the confession.

              The truth was out. Jake had been dumb enough to let his best friend’s girl lure him up to Shadow Point, under the guise of planning a surprise party for Preston. Nothing happened. Not really anyway. They’d parked to talk, Kodi had climbed into his lap, and she’d attempted to smother him with her mouth. Jake had pushed her away, grumbled a few choice words, and ushered her home. End of story.

              But Preston didn’t give him the chance to explain that.

              “You son of a bitch!” Preston growled, lunging across the cab at him. 

              Jake braced himself for the attack, expecting an uncoordinated blow from his inebriated friend. Wrong. Preston grabbed the steering wheel instead, wrenching it hard to the right.

              The world around them moved in slow motion, all the while speeding by at an impossible rate. The truck bounced off the narrow shoulder, careening downhill toward the copse of trees of the surrounding forest. Jake tried to brake, tried to regain control of the vehicle, but the truck’s tires caught air as the vehicle tumbled end over end toward the towering shadows of the dark woodlands. The surreal moment of impact struck in the blink of an eye, a flash-like moment of pain and shock, filled with jarring intensity as metal twisted around wood, glass shattered, air bags exploded, and life as they knew it came to a screeching halt.