Page 131 of Drown Like Heaven
Dr. Killshaw handed me the marker, but he didn’t let go of it. My breath hitched quietly. Every molecule of my body wanted to lean into him, to succumb to the gravitational pull of him. He was so warm, and it felt like he might actually care about me in a way nobody else did. With food and sleep and help studying and research opportunities and his rare compliments.
His eyes lowered to my lips for a moment.
Nobody knows how to take care of you, do they? And you’ll never let anyone try.
In my mind, I became the deer from my memory, standing on the cusp of something that felt like safety because nobody would be able to find me once I went past the threshold. The darkness of the forest. A place to lose myself.
“What should I draw?” I whispered, inhaling the pine scent of him so close to me.
“Nothing. I think you’ve got it,” he responded, even lower. “You’re going to do well on the exam. I knew that before we started reviewing.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” His stare cut back to mine. We weren’t touching, but we were both holding the same blue dry erase marker, which was almost close enough. “And you need to believe in yourself more.”
“I don’t—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“You?” I questioned, confused.
“Yes. Me. Do you think me unintelligent?”
“No…”
“I didn’t think so. And I believe inyou. Your abilities. Your knowledge.”
He was the dark between the trees, and I was already lost in him.
“Okay,” I breathed, blood heating my cheeks.
My wanting felt sharp, like a blade held too close to the skin, like he already had too much power over me. But still, I wantedthe hurt. Iwanted.
He released the marker.
?????
I worked on homework for most of the afternoon, utilizing Dr. Killshaw’s expertise when I got stuck on tougher problems.Sometimes, he needed my help with data collection, or asked me to hold tools for him while he fixed things.
Now, we were eating dinner at the cafeteria on campus, which was a little weird. It was almost entirely deserted. When we finished eating, we started the walk back to Stanton, not talking much. The stars looked pretty and the air was cooling down for the night, a few lonely crickets chirping from bushes.
“What made you change your focus?” I asked, referring to his switch from neon-based research to sustainability, wanting to make myself sound more mature by asking about his work.
“My interests changed. And I figure it’s important to ensure the Earth stays inhabitable, don’t you?”
“Yes. It was just such a specific focus you had before, so I wondered what made you drop it.” My boots scuffed on the sidewalk, contrasting with the polished sound of his nicer shoes. I liked the contrast, liked how put-together he was compared to me. Older, smarter, steadier. “If anything,” I added.
“There was no sudden change in heart, rather a loss of interest over time.”
“I see.”
“How long have you worked at the gas station?”
I paused for a second, somewhat surprised he remembered. “Almost three years.”
“Do you like it?”
“I like my manager. The job is fine.” I shrugged.
