Arrogant, I’d heard her mumble. On more than one occasion, especially after we’d gone back and forth in class.
I found myself inappropriately curious about what had passed between her and Nathan Connors. On the Wednesday after our confrontation, she’d come in the class at the last second, and sat as far away from him as possible. Then, when he left the class, he gave her a look of such longing, such naked devotion, that I was stopped cold for a moment, unable to react. Since then, the two of them continued to sit apart, not speaking, not interacting in any way. The other students noticed, and I’d overheard two of them talking in the hall, just outside the classroom, about a lover’s spat. My stomach clenched at the thought. I wanted to believe her protests that Nathan wasn’t her boyfriend. Even though it was none of my business.
Two weeks after spring break, I was packing up my things in the office to go home for the day when James knocked on the doorframe.
“Got time to go grab a drink?”
I didn’t really. I had planned to go home and play, all night. But the BSO’s season was over, and James wasn’t one to be put off by excuses.
“Yes,” I replied.
A few minutes later we slipped into a corner bar several blocks away from the conservatory. James had chosen this bar when we were undergraduates, and we’d been coming here off and on ever since. Dark, smelly, and mostly catering to local residents, it was a place we were highly unlikely to run into faculty or students. He ordered a beer, and I got a gin and tonic, and we sat down in a tiny booth. The table was a little sticky, so I carefully kept my arms away from it.
For a few minutes, we discussed random happenings from the conservatory, then Robert and his parents. When I told him I’d passed Robert off to a different instructor, James frowned briefly, but then moved on. His look disturbed me. I didn’t understand his expectations. I was in no way equipped to teach any child, much less one who couldn’t see.
We sat in silence for a few moments, and he gave me a long, serious look. “Talk to me, Gregory.”
I raised an eyebrow. “About?”
He took a sip of his beer. “About Savannah Marshall.”
Very carefully, I kept control of my expression as I took a sip of my drink. “Why is she the topic of the day? She’s in one of my classes. Gifted musician, but undisciplined.”
“Then why did you freeze in place the moment I mentioned her name?”
“You’re imagining things, James.”
James raised one eyebrow as he stared at me. “I’m not imagining that you’ve become the subject of rumors.”
Rumors. One thing I’d never been was the subject of the gossip that inevitably flowed out of being part of a tiny community like the conservatory. I intentionally kept my personal life, what there was of it, far away from the school. The only concession I’d made on that front in years was dating Karin, which to an extent I only did to keep up appearances.
“What sort of … rumors?” I tried to keep the warning out of my voice. But I think some of it slipped through, because he sat back in his seat, giving me a wary look. He sighed then leaned forward again.
“Here’s what I’m hearing, Gregory. You can take it for what it’s worth, but I’m concerned about you. What the rumors say is: the two of you have been consistently combative in class. Constantly disagreeing, constantly sparring. Two weeks ago you two had a shouting match in your office. The same day, she suddenly stopped hanging out with her longtime boyfriend, and the two of them aren’t even speaking. Since then you’ve cancelled three dates with Karin, who has been quite vocal about it. The rumors say that she stared at you openly in class. And that you’ve been doing plenty of staring of your own. Roughly half of the school thinks she and Nathan split up because you slept with her. Luckily the other half is too wrapped up in their own lives to care.”
Without thinking, I blurted out, “Nathan Connors was not her boyfriend.”
James closed his eyes and winced. “That, my friend, was not what I wanted to hear from you.”
I coughed and took another drink. “I assure you, I would never sleep with a student. The whole idea is distasteful.”
“She’s attractive ... gifted ... it’s not a hard sell.”
“She’s a disruption to the entire class. Undercuts me any chance she gets. I can barely stand her presence in my classroom.” That wasn’t true though. In fact, all I could think about on the way to class was her being there.
James rolled his eyes. “It’s not your classroom that concerns me.”
I leaned forward. I could feel my heart beating in my temples. Anger? Tension? Anxiety? I had no idea. “James. Listen to me. You’re all too aware of my feelings about relationships, about getting involved with someone that might interfere with my music.”
James leaned forward, keeping his volume low. “If she wasn’t a student, I’d tell you to go for it. She’s a good match from what little I know of her. And … that concerns me.”
“You’re out of your mind.” I sat back and ran a hand through my hair.
He grimaced. “Gregory. Be honest with me. We’ve been friends for more than a decade.”
I gave a large sigh, tossed back the rest of my drink, and waved at the waitress, pointing at the empty glass. Then I leaned forward again and said, “James ... I … she ... nothing has happened. Nothing will. The subject is closed.”
“Can I suggest, then, that you become a little more circumspect? If these rumors get back to the Dean, you’re going to find yourself answering questions for the administration. And while the conservatory is lucky to have you, I think you know there are plenty on the faculty who are either jealous of your talent or resentful of your attitude. They won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus.”
“You’re well aware I avoid office politics of any kind.”
“I know that. You’re above all of it. But don’t think it can’t drag you down into the mud.”
I sighed. “James, thank you for bringing this to my attention. But in all seriousness, the subject is closed. I refuse to discuss it any more.”
James shook his head and ordered another beer.