Chapter 8: Voyeur: Chapter 8

OAKLYN

I’d lied to myself when I’d said I’d eventually adjust. It had been one week, and I was pretty sure I was dying from lack of sleep. I’d worked all weekend, including Sunday night. I hadn’t gotten home until one and still had to study for a quiz I had the next day. Who gave a quiz in the second week of classes? Then I’d had to head to the physics department. Thankfully I’d been able to leave early since Mr. Erikson didn’t have much work for me and Dr.

Pierce hadn’t been there.

I’d fallen into a small coma early in the evening and woke up earlier than usual that morning. I tried to keep my eyes closed and fall back into dreamland but failed. So, I went ahead to campus and figured I’d get some work done.

I walked into the building where my physics class was, hoping to find it empty, so I could sit in there to work for the thirty minutes before class.

I looked in the room through the window to find all the seats empty and pulled the door open to enjoy the quiet.

When I’d walked through the threshold, I noticed Dr. Pierce at his desk. His head popped up at the noise and he looked me over with that intense gaze again, the thick-rimmed glasses doing nothing to lessen the stare, before clearing his throat. “Hey, Oaklyn. You’re here early.” He pulled the

white sleeve of his shirt back to check his watch to make sure I was indeed early.

“Hey, Dr. Pierce. I hope it’s okay I’m here early.”

“Of course. Have a seat.”

I grabbed one in the front row and began unpacking my books. “No point in going to the library for thirty minutes just to pack up and leave again.”

“Smart choice. Very efficient with your time. I can appreciate that.”

A moment stretched where we both smiled at each other, not saying anything. His eyes lingered on me, softening, almost melting like they were warming. Or maybe that was just me, warming under his stare, interpreting it as more, wanting it to mean more.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach sinking into my core as I imagined him staring at me with heat burning my skin. An anxious energy flooded through me as I wondered if he could read my thoughts pouring from my own eyes.

I needed to break the moment before I made a fool of myself, so I blurted out the first thing I thought of. “You have that whole Superman thing going on with your glasses,” I said, pointing at my own face. He tilted his head and gave me a confused look. Shit, I was so dumb. I’d have been better off letting the staring continue. “I mean, like, because Superman wears glasses.”

“You mean Clark Kent.”

“Um . . . ” Now it was my turn to be confused.

“Clark Kent wears the glasses and when he takes them off he’s Superman.”

“Duh.” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m more of a Marvel girl.”

“That’s a good choice. Marvel is better than DC any day.” He pulled his glasses off and set them directly in the center of the paper he was working on, giving them a small nudge to line up evenly. “Are you sure you’re not a physics major?”

“Positive.”

“Well, you’d fit in perfectly in the department. You’ll have to make sure you’re around for when Mr. Erikson and Dr. Fischer get into their weekly debates about DC and Marvel.”

I laughed. “That sounds . . . fascinating.”

“Hey, they can get pretty heated.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Seeming pleased that I believed him, he moved on to another topic. “You’re a biology major, correct?”

“Yup. Hoping to move forward with physical therapy.”

“That’s a lot of school.”

“No more than you did.”

“That’s true. Why physical therapy?”

“Oh, I love anatomy and the way the body moves. All the mechanics about it. I find it fascinating how one small tear, sprain, or fracture can cause a butterfly effect of other issues. How amazing is the human body? I also, love the idea of helping others, but didn’t really want to go full force into the medical field of hospitals and such.”

My words faded as I noticed how his eyes dropped to my lips as I rambled. I licked them and then bit them in response to his gaze. The movement seemed to break his concentration and he sat up straight, clearing his throat. It was his turn to change the subject now.

“And you said you were nineteen?” He coughed after asking the question before continuing. “Did you wait a year after high school to come to college?”

“I wish,” I said, rolling my eyes. “My birthday is in early November, so I’m always the oldest.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, my birthday is in late August, so I’m always the youngest. Trust me, it’s much worse.”

“I don’t know,” I said, leaning my elbows on the desk.

Did his eyes just drop to the V in my shirt? He was probably just looking around, and I felt dumb thinking otherwise.

God, at this rate, I was going to become campus gossip—

the girl who tried to seduce her teacher because she imagined false advances. Heat seeped into my cheeks and I continued talking. “Being asked if you were held back because you couldn’t write your letters is pretty rough.”

“Very traumatic,” he agreed with a nod. “It may be worse when you’re called the baby when you can’t go out with all your friends to the bars because you’re only seventeen. Even worse when they call you to come pick them up after they managed to score drinks.”

I rolled my lips over my teeth to hold back my laughter, finding it impossible to believe anyone would call the large Dr. Pierce a “baby”.

“Sure, laugh it up,” he joked.

“No, no. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the idea of anyone calling you a baby. I mean, were they giants? Or did you hit a late growth spurt?”

“I guess size didn’t matter to them.”

“I’m sure that was their excuse to all the girls.”

As soon as the words left my mouth my eyes widened. I just made a sexual joke to my professor. I opened my mouth to take it back, swallow my words, something, when his head fell back, and a laugh exploded from his mouth. His throat exposed, looking more attractive than I thought any throat would look, and his chest shook with each sound. I wanted to go to him and bury my mouth against his skin, wondered how it tasted. I shook the thought away, feeling juvenile for even letting the thought cross my mind.

“I’m sure it was,” he agreed, still laughing. Once he was under control he sat up and mirrored my position, his elbows on his desk. “So, are you from Cincinnati?”

“Nope.” My voice cracked over the word and I had to clear my throat. Buy myself some time to rid the fantasies clamoring for space in my head. “From Florida. I wanted to move away from all that heat, and I’m hoping to attend graduate school here.”

“Your family must miss you.”

Just bringing up my family was a punch to the gut. I’d been avoiding their calls and responding with short messages, the hurt still too fresh. Especially when I was exhausted from all the work I had to do to make up for their mistake. “They’re just happy I made it. I’m the first of my family to go to college.” Which was why they didn’t understand how serious I was.

“Did you get a scholarship to help with out of state costs?”

I snorted. My scholarship was sitting in my parents’

driveway. “I did. Not enough, but some to help out.”

“So, you work?”

For some reason he seemed as uncomfortable to ask about my possible job as I felt to answer. His eyes dropped to his hands clasped in front of him and swallowed.

I licked my lips and swallowed to buy some time to think of an answer that would hopefully divert his attention.

Instead, my genius brain only came up with, “Yeah.”

“Oh, um . . . where?”

“Um . . .” I lifted my head and froze. His blue eyes were locked on me, like he was holding me in place, demanding my truth. He looked at me like he already knew what I’d done. But there was no way, because he was Dr. Pierce and no teacher, not even a professor, made the kind of money to afford Voyeur; or would risk their position as a teacher to hang out at a sex club. “Um,” I said again. “I work—”

The first few students walked in, saving me from coming up with a lie. I spent too much time with him to try and remember some random lie. Not only that, but I was the worst liar.

We each blinked and sat back in our seats. Dr. Pierce straightened his pens and papers that were already straight and moved to stand at the front of his desk as always, greeting the students as they came in.

Olivia came in and managed to distract me enough to let my heart calm down and get myself under control enough to focus. Once everyone was seated, Dr. Pierce began class.

“Hello, my name is Callum Pierce, and I have astrophilia.”

Students shuffled and murmured their confusion as to why our professor was starting the class like an AA meeting, and wondering what the hell astrophilia was.

“A rare love and obsession with planets, stars, and outer space.” His explanation brought a few laughs and some groans at how cheesy he was. “It’s why I love teaching. And maybe, by the end of this semester, I can impart some of that love to you.”

“Doubtful,” a guy in the back said.

Dr. Pierce merely gave him a squinted look and continued. “Now that it’s week two, I want to go ahead and assign you your end of the semester project.” A chorus of groans broke out among the class. “I know, I know. Just horrible,” he said with an exaggerated sigh and pretended to collapse against the desk. That earned him a few giggles from the other girls up front. “You will be picking one of the big stars to do a presentation about. In that presentation, I’d like you to use pictures you took yourself. Therefore, you will need to meet with me one night this semester, so I can help you work the telescope. I’ll put the sign-up schedule on our dashboard online.”

Once he’d finished explaining the criteria, he moved on to lecturing. But my mind was still stuck on meeting with him one night. Would the meetings be individual? I knew I saw him almost every day, but the idea of a dark sky filled with stars screamed intimacy. My chest fluttered at the thought.

And I squashed it, not letting myself continue down that path. I had shit to accomplish and didn’t have time to lust after Dr. Pierce.

I refused to end up being another girl who giggled in the front of his class.

Especially since I was barely a blip on his radar.