Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
It’s full of pictures of me and Genevieve in New York. Me kissing her outside our hotel, us holding hands outside a Broadway show. Her looking into my eyes as we argue over a book in a coffee shop.
“Please tell me that these are photoshopped images and I can sue this asshole for threatening me with extortion.”
I flip through more of the photos. Her sitting on my lap on the Amtrak train, us being reckless and kissing in the bushes late at night.
“Allow me to repeat myself, Liam,” he says, glaring at me. “Tell me that these are photoshopped. Preferably between now and right the hell now.”
“They’re not photoshopped.”
He sets down his glass. “I see.”
“They’re real.” I don’t give him the chance to ask if I’m sure. “Every single one.”
Silence suffocates the room, and his eyes grow colder with every passing second.
“In that case,” he says. “I just have one question for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Okay.” He crosses his arms. “What exactly am I thinking?”
I don’t really know, so I simply sigh.
“Exactly.” He nods. “Let me tell you what I’m thinking. You’re sleeping with a high school student, and now there’s someone who is out for blood, demanding that I pay one hundred thousand dollars to keep this quiet. I clearly have to pay it because I have two more years left on my contract, and I want to waltz into a retirement paradise without a single scandal.”
“I don’t know how this happened,” he continued, “or if this is you healing some type of divorce trauma, but you will resign as soon as possible and when I retire, I’ll consider forgiving you for nearly costing me my legacy.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I think I’m being rather calm, because if you’re not out of here within a week, I’ll be forced to turn you for statutory rape.”
“Rape?”
“Yes, statutory rape.” His voice cracks. “I will not let you fuck this up for me, Liam. I’ve worked too hard and this means too much to me. You know that.”
“I know she’s only eighteen, but—”
“What?”
“I know she’s only eighteen,” I say it a bit louder, “And I promise you I didn’t cross the line with her until she was fully legal.”
“The age of consent in New Hampshire is sixteen, Liam.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“So, I totally get that point legally, and you definitely have some wiggle room there, but on top of the clear power imbalance, Miss Edwards won’t be eighteen until next year.”
“No…” His words aren’t making sense. “No, she’s eighteen now.”
“She was sixteen the night you picked her up from that bar. Sixteen.”
I shake my head. “She told me she was seventeen. She had birthday a week later and she always said—”
“Then she always lied,” he interrupts me. “Would you like to see the birth certificate we have on file?”
Silence.
“I’ll leave by morning.”
LESSON #6
“Always tell the truth, no matter how badly it may hurt someone you love.”
I don’t have any snark for this one.
It’s the cold, hard truth…
0
GENEVIEVE
Weeks later
The best thing about studying to become a lawyer is that it’s possible to become numb with the list of documents we have to read. The words, “I have to study for law school,” are respected and people don’t try to lure you away with pointless distractions.
Then again, whenever I’m not contributing to my study group, I’m pulling up case after case of teachers who have had relationships with their students.
I was hoping to find one to show Liam that not everyone gets in trouble, that I lied to keep him, but the judgements are not stacked in my favor.
Every time Brett comes over at night, armed with my favorite soup and tea, telling me how much his parents love me and are happy he’s found “a proper girlfriend with an elite upbringing,” the guilt swallows me whole.
And I wake up in the middle of the night, searching for another student & teacher case.
“What the hell is up with you these days?” Lauren stomps into my room on a Saturday morning and pulls the drapes open.
“I’m fine.” I roll over. “Nothing is wrong.”
“You’re avoiding me, and I want to know why.”
“I’m not trying to avoid you,” I say. “I’m just studying.”
“Bullshit.” She steps closer and presses a hand against my forehead. “You’re burning up and your face looks awful. No offense.”
“None taken. I’m fine.”
She rolls her eyes and disappears, returning with a cold towel and a thermometer.
She stuffs it between my lips.
It beeps several seconds later.
“You’re at one hundred three degrees, so I’ll be nice and give you two choices,” she says. “One, you can let me take you to the doctor. Two, you can agree to take some medicine and if it doesn’t go down in a few hours, I’ll still take you to the doctor.”
“Three,” I say. “I’ll go back to sleep and wait for it to go down on its own.”