again.
I stand still as a statue as I watch him walk away, wondering if I imagined the heat in his eyes or if it was there because he was thinking of my sister. I can’t help but admire the width of his shoulders as he turns to let another student pass him on the steps, or the way his jeans cling to his butt as he heads back up the aisle to say his goodbyes to Mr. Hildenbrand.
“Who was that?” Tiffany asks, coming up behind me.
“That was Eb- Mr. Daniels, my Mod Lit professor.”
“He’s your teacher?” she asks incredulously.
I turn to frown at her. “Yes. Why did you ask like that?”
She gives me a dubious look. “You could’ve fooled me. He looked awfully…interested to only be your teacher.”
“Tiffany,” I hiss, taking her arm and pulling her to a quiet spot behind the curtain. “There’s nothing going on between us. And you can’t say things like that. He could get in a lot of trouble.”
“Well, if he was sleeping with a student, he’d deserve to get in a lot of trouble.”
My frown deepens. “But he’s not, so please drop it.”
“I will, but you’d better watch that, Willow. He looked…well, just be careful. I’d bet you big bucks that he’s got a thing for you.”
“He dated Sage, silly. It’s probably because we look alike.” My answer is nonchalant, but my insides are clamoring. Could it be…? Could he really…?
No. He couldn’t. He doesn’t.
But no matter how many times I tell myself, it doesn’t extinguish the little flicker of hope that warms my belly. And it won’t matter anyway, if he finds out what I’ve done. I still need to figure out what to do about Sage.
By the end of practice, I’ve rolled this mess over and over in my head a million times and I think I’ve come up with a plan. On the way home, I stop by the supercenter and purchase a pay-as-you-go phone. The only thing I can really do to make certain that I know exactly what’s going on between Ebon and Sage without Sage knowing is to keep an open line of communication between them. So I’m giving Sage a new phone and a new number. And I’ll continue the ruse a little longer.
It’s later, as I’m lying in bed considering how happy it makes me to have an excuse to continue on as Sage, that I begin to become concerned. I shouldn’t be this happy to deceive someone I love. Or to pretend to be someone that I’m not. But it does. It makes me deliriously happy. It seems that I have no shame when it comes to the things I’d do for Ebon. Evidently, I’d jump at any chance to talk to him in a more…intimate way again, even if I can only do it as Sage.
TEN- EBON
Willow’s on my mind. Again.
Seeing her tonight in the context of Romeo and Juliet only adds another layer to her appeal. In my mind, the relationship that I share with the Masters sisters is every bit as complicated and convoluted—and the outcome will probably be every bit as tragic—as Shakespeare’s work.
It started out as an attraction to Sage, but that was going nowhere beyond a little bit of sex. Then I met Willow. I felt drawn to her on a deeper level, but I couldn’t explore it because she is the forbidden fruit, so I pursued something less than meaningful with Sage. That was selfish and stupid, but it’s not like Sage thought it was anything more. I never gave her that impression. The most depraved part is that, all the while, I craved something more with Willow. The more I was around her, the more intrigued I became. Her complexity, her…duality compels me. I can relate to it in ways she can never know. Unfortunately, the less able I am to satisfy my desire, the more it haunts me, the more powerful it becomes. From innocent to fascinating, from curious to ravenous. Classic forbidden fruit syndrome.
So what do I do? Like a dumb ass who thinks with his dick, I re-engaged the sister, telling myself that it would be cathartic and that it would
I stand still as a statue as I watch him walk away, wondering if I imagined the heat in his eyes or if it was there because he was thinking of my sister. I can’t help but admire the width of his shoulders as he turns to let another student pass him on the steps, or the way his jeans cling to his butt as he heads back up the aisle to say his goodbyes to Mr. Hildenbrand.
“Who was that?” Tiffany asks, coming up behind me.
“That was Eb- Mr. Daniels, my Mod Lit professor.”
“He’s your teacher?” she asks incredulously.
I turn to frown at her. “Yes. Why did you ask like that?”
She gives me a dubious look. “You could’ve fooled me. He looked awfully…interested to only be your teacher.”
“Tiffany,” I hiss, taking her arm and pulling her to a quiet spot behind the curtain. “There’s nothing going on between us. And you can’t say things like that. He could get in a lot of trouble.”
“Well, if he was sleeping with a student, he’d deserve to get in a lot of trouble.”
My frown deepens. “But he’s not, so please drop it.”
“I will, but you’d better watch that, Willow. He looked…well, just be careful. I’d bet you big bucks that he’s got a thing for you.”
“He dated Sage, silly. It’s probably because we look alike.” My answer is nonchalant, but my insides are clamoring. Could it be…? Could he really…?
No. He couldn’t. He doesn’t.
But no matter how many times I tell myself, it doesn’t extinguish the little flicker of hope that warms my belly. And it won’t matter anyway, if he finds out what I’ve done. I still need to figure out what to do about Sage.
By the end of practice, I’ve rolled this mess over and over in my head a million times and I think I’ve come up with a plan. On the way home, I stop by the supercenter and purchase a pay-as-you-go phone. The only thing I can really do to make certain that I know exactly what’s going on between Ebon and Sage without Sage knowing is to keep an open line of communication between them. So I’m giving Sage a new phone and a new number. And I’ll continue the ruse a little longer.
It’s later, as I’m lying in bed considering how happy it makes me to have an excuse to continue on as Sage, that I begin to become concerned. I shouldn’t be this happy to deceive someone I love. Or to pretend to be someone that I’m not. But it does. It makes me deliriously happy. It seems that I have no shame when it comes to the things I’d do for Ebon. Evidently, I’d jump at any chance to talk to him in a more…intimate way again, even if I can only do it as Sage.
TEN- EBON
Willow’s on my mind. Again.
Seeing her tonight in the context of Romeo and Juliet only adds another layer to her appeal. In my mind, the relationship that I share with the Masters sisters is every bit as complicated and convoluted—and the outcome will probably be every bit as tragic—as Shakespeare’s work.
It started out as an attraction to Sage, but that was going nowhere beyond a little bit of sex. Then I met Willow. I felt drawn to her on a deeper level, but I couldn’t explore it because she is the forbidden fruit, so I pursued something less than meaningful with Sage. That was selfish and stupid, but it’s not like Sage thought it was anything more. I never gave her that impression. The most depraved part is that, all the while, I craved something more with Willow. The more I was around her, the more intrigued I became. Her complexity, her…duality compels me. I can relate to it in ways she can never know. Unfortunately, the less able I am to satisfy my desire, the more it haunts me, the more powerful it becomes. From innocent to fascinating, from curious to ravenous. Classic forbidden fruit syndrome.
So what do I do? Like a dumb ass who thinks with his dick, I re-engaged the sister, telling myself that it would be cathartic and that it would
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