Chapter 19

In the morning Megs had her wits about her and realized five thousand dollars was definitely worth some embarrassment, and while she didn’t relish the idea of facing Gideon again, she didn’t have much choice. At least not forever. She had to present her mid-term project, and putting it off wouldn’t solve this particular problem. She could either fail her class or show up. It was as simple as that.

She could do this. Maybe she could pretend nothing happened. Pretend she never saw that he saw her text message to Haley, and maybe Gideon would be kind enough to pretend he hadn’t seen it either. They were both adults. They’d had years of practice at stuffing down feelings and pretending awkward things hadn’t happened.

Megs finished her shift at Green Mountain and left John to close up the shop. It felt almost as exciting to walk out that door as it had to take her coding certificate from her instructor the night before. She’d miss chatting with customers, but she didn’t realize how much she needed a change of pace until she was staring it in the face.

Megs crunched over the rustling leaves dancing across the square in the light afternoon breeze. The maple trees along the street were now up to their bellies in orange and red, and somehow the air was laced with pumpkin spice. Must’ve been from the bakery or Joe’s waffles.

Starting tomorrow, she’d have a new view from her parking spot. She’d get to sleep in and start work at eight in the morning at the medical center. As terrifying as that was, Megs was ready. She’d scored an eighty-seven percent on her exam. Probably the highest score she’d ever gotten on a test that required her to be detail oriented and use numbers.

“Megs!” a voice called out, and she spun on her heel. It was Colleen, looking as elegant as ever, with her gray hair coiffed and a scarf in autumnal hues draped around her neck.

Megs smiled and walked toward her. “Happy Sunday, Colleen.”

"I almost missed you." Colleen held the Sugar Creek Star folded in her hand.

Megs’ brow furrowed. “You came to see me?”

“Of course I came to see you.”

Megs stifled a laugh. When had Colleen ever come to Green Mountain Grinds to visit her? She’d come to her shows, but so did all the Sugar Mamas. “Well, what can I do for you?”

Colleen unfolded the paper and pointed at the headline article. Autumn Romance Heats Up. “I’d like you to introduce me to the Oscar Calloway.”

Megs looked closer at the article, then took it from Colleen’s hands and started to read. It appeared Miss Julie Bee had some insider information and had all but announced to the entire town that Oscar was going to be at the fall festival Tuesday night. How did she know about that? Had Oscar leaked it for one last blast of publicity?

“I’m sorry, Colleen, I don’t think I’m allowed to bring guests.”

Colleen snatched the paper back. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s not like Oscar and I are friends, he—”

“You’re a finalist! You could pretend I’m your ailing grandmother or something.”

Megs laughed and threw out her hands. “You don’t look even close to ailing.”

“So you don’t want to do it?”

“Y-no, I’m not—” Megs snapped her mouth shut. She couldn’t bring a guest to the event, could she? She didn’t know much about cavorting with celebrities, but even she understood you shouldn’t parade them around like show ponies.

Colleen pouted. “You’re telling me that I’ve styled the hair of a beautiful young woman from the time she could walk and the one time I ask for anything, you don’t want to help?”

Megs’ jaw dropped. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, but . . . ”

“But what?” Colleen watched her like a hawk circling a field mouse, and Megs took a step back. "I need to meet him, dear. Just imagine, a picture with Oscar Calloway! Tommy would be beside himself with jealousy, and the other Sugar Mamas . . . ” She clapped her hands together. “They'd be green with envy!"

Megs’ eyes widened. “Let me get this straight. You want me to risk ruining Oscar’s opinion of me so you can make other people jealous? And who’s Tommy?”

“Never mind that, dear, and no. That would all just be fortunate side effects, I truly would love to meet the man. I even have his book in my handbag . . . ” She trailed off, slipped her purse off her shoulder, and began to rifle through it.

“Fine, Colleen! I’ll introduce you, but it has to be a chance meeting. I’m not going to drive you there and admit we planned this ahead of time.”

“Excellent. I’ll be there around seven.” Colleen folded the paper under her arm, replaced her purse on her shoulder, and sauntered past the fountain toward the shops.

On Monday, a knot formed in Gideon’s chest as he sat at his desk waiting while his students prepared for their midterm presentations. The assignment was simple. Create an original three-minute audio piece, demonstrating their understanding of sound editing and mixing techniques they'd learned during the first half of the semester. He hadn’t given them any guidelines, which he knew would make things more difficult for some students, but he didn’t want to take the fun out of it. The joy of exploration. Recording was technical, yes, but it didn’t have to quash their creativity.

"Alright, everyone. Please take your seats," Gideon announced, hoping his voice sounded normal. Internally, his voice box felt like it was sitting inside a clamp. Now that he knew Megs was watching him, he was hyper aware of himself. His mouth felt dry, but every time his tongue grazed his lower lip, he couldn't help but wonder if Megs was watching. He snuck a nonchalant glance her direction, but found her focused on helping Erik set up for his presentation.

"Remember, you'll be graded on your ability to capture clear, high-quality sound and how you've manipulated it creatively in post-production." Gideon scanned the list of names, noting with a mix of relief and dread that Megs was scheduled to present last. Reverse alphabetical order. That gave him time to settle in at least.

"Okay, Erik, looks like you're up first," Gideon announced. Erik took a deep breath, picked up his laptop, and stalked to the front of the room. Megs walked with him and helped adjust the stand so he wasn’t blocking the image from the projector.

Erik flexed his hands. “Thank you for attending my presentation today.” An image of Erik’s digital audio workstation appeared on the screen. “I call this, Hex on the Beach.” Erik pressed play, and the room filled with a low bass hum. Tones layered over each other and then were joined by a cacophony of bird calls building above a pulsing electronic beat.

When the song finished, the entire class stared at Erik, dumbfounded. Megs was the first to start clapping, and then the room erupted. Hoots and hollers echoed off the cinder block walls. Erik’s cheeks were pink as he collected his things and went back to his seat.

"Wow, Erik. That was unique," Gideon managed, trying to suppress a smile. Sometimes he wished he could be a fly on the wall of that man’s brain. “Jennifer?”

He’d barely gotten her name out before Jennifer leaped up and strode to the front of the room. Her presentation was a personal piano piece, and he had to admit, he was impressed. Jennifer kept glancing his direction as the music played, and he tried to give enough of a reaction without giving her false hope.

The presentations continued, each student showcasing their unique talents and styles. Gideon remained outwardly engaged, offering praise and taking notes with constructive criticism for their assessment. But inside, he was attuned to only one frequency.

Each time Megs tucked her hair behind her ear or closed her eyes to listen, Gideon noticed. It’s torture, Hales. Had Megs been feeling this all semester? How had she possibly focused or learned anything in his class?

Annoyance scraped at his midsection. This wasn’t his fault, and it certainly wasn’t hers. Attraction wasn’t a choice. No matter how many times he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to have these thoughts, they didn’t stop coming. They hammered away at all the solid logic he repeated to himself like a mantra, reminding himself why there were rules regarding students and teachers.

Whenever he was with Megs, his world was at a higher bit rate. He was wholeheartedly happy in that tractor. He was even whole happy while he sat listening to conspiracy theories in that car that coated his nostrils with second-hand smoke.

He couldn’t act on this. Not yet. But the struggle didn’t make him a bad professor or Megs a bad student. He hated that their current situation held a cloudy filter over something that they both should be celebrating.

This wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t eighteen, and he wasn’t a creepy professor looking to hook up with one of his students. How long had it been since he’d felt this way about someone? That weekend after Sammy’s, he’d felt like a sixteen year old again, staring at his ceiling and reliving every moment from the second Megs had shown up at his office door.

It’s torture, Hales.

The semester ended December tenth. That was two-and-a-half months away, and though he’d never had a final that same week, he could think about doing it the eleventh and having his grading completed by the twelfth—

Gideon clapped with the rest of the room as another presentation finished, then looked at his clipboard. They were down to the last student. He looked up and cleared his throat. “Last but not least, Megs.”

The moment Megs stepped up to the front of the class, her entire demeanor shifted. She connected her computer and stood with presence and power as she announced her title. She was wearing a simple gray long-sleeved t-shirt with jeans that slouched on her hips. Gideon couldn’t figure out where to look, so he stared at the screen behind her. There was only a single track.

She pressed play, and her voice filled the room. "Sound is not just a backdrop. It's a character in its own right, breathing life into each scene and weaving together the emotions of the actors with the assumptions of the audience."

Megs’ words painted vivid imagery, describing soundtracks and scenes from plays and musicals spanning the past thirty years. When the track finished, it seemed like the entire room drew a collective breath. Then it was Erik who started clapping first.

He didn’t have to announce the end of class. Even though they were ten minutes early, everyone started packing up. Gideon saved his notes, then started organizing his recent downloads so he wouldn’t have to try to say something to Megs before he had himself under control.

"Professor Adams?"

He looked up to Jennifer standing in front of his desk.

She smiled. "I just wanted to ask about the grading for our midterm projects."

He exhaled and closed his laptop. "You'll receive your grades by the end of the week.”

"Okay," Jennifer nodded, obviously hoping for more conversation than he gave her. She turned and walked toward the door. Megs slipped her laptop in her backpack and followed without looking back.

Gideon’s ribcage felt like it had shrunk in the dryer. He stood and shook out his hands, then glanced over at the presentation table and frowned. “Megs, is this your charging cord?” He picked it up off the floor and looked up.

Megs slipped her bag off her shoulder and looked inside. “Yeah. Sorry, I thought I grabbed it.”

Gideon was already walking up the aisle, and when he looked up from the cord in his hands, Megs’ green eyes were fixed on him. In a split second, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the empty classroom.

“Did you write that?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your presentation. The audio you recorded.”

Megs breathed a laugh. “No, that was a monologue I found.”

Gideon almost asked for her to send the link, then realized he had a copy of her assignment in his teacher portal. But he didn’t want to read the words someone else wrote. He wanted to listen to Megs read them again.

“Thanks for this.” Megs reached out as he handed her the cord. He didn’t mean to let their fingers brush, but when they did, Megs jolted and then the room was plunged into darkness.

She sucked in a breath. “I-I think I hit the light switch.”

Gideon blinked, trying to make anything out in front of him. There weren’t any windows in the room besides the small one in the door that was currently blocked by students walking to their next classes.

Finally his eyes started to adjust. “Here, I know where it is.” Gideon reached past Megs and skimmed the wall for the switch. He would’ve found it had his whole body not lurched to a halt when he felt Megs’ breath against his neck. His brain short-circuited. Megs’ breathing quickened, and he could feel every exhale. What had he been doing?

In and out. She smelled like summer. The light switch. He was looking for—

Megs touched his arm, sending straight electricity into his veins, and when something—her nose? Her lips?—brushed his jaw, his world narrowed to those millimeters of sensation. His breathing was ragged as he flattened his hand against the cinderblock wall and turned his head.

Megs was so close, his bones shuddered. He couldn’t act on this yet. He needed to hit the switch and—

Megs’ silhouette lifted her mouth to his, and his world lit on fire. Pleasure surged through him, rolling over him like a wave. He knew he should’ve stopped her, but he didn’t. Not right away. He couldn’t push past the lights exploding behind his eyes or the softness of her lips. She tasted like lemon and honey, and—

Gideon gasped and pushed back, accidentally hitting the light switch with his thumb. He stood there panting, trying to drag his eyes away from Megs’ flushed lips.

“I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I shouldn’t have-I—” Her green eyes were wide and glassy. She bit her lip so hard, he worried she’d draw blood, then bolted for the door.

Gideon watched her disappear into the hall, then stumbled back to his desk in a daze. What had just happened was everything right, and everything wrong. He dropped into his chair, not sure if he was going to pass out or throw up in the trash can under his desk.

After staring at the wall long enough that his heart rate decreased, he was able to clear his head enough to grab his bag and drag himself to the parking lot. He drove home and was about to make himself a sandwich when he opened his email.

The first subject line in his inbox made his stomach drop to the floor. From the Title Nine coordinator at Champlain Community.

Urgent: Review of Conduct Allegation.