Part Fifteen: Cesca

The whole school seemed different now: brighter, louder. Each moment she spent there was tinged with possibility, alight with the prospect of seeing him. She found herself deliberately walking past his form room in the hope of seeing him through the window. She anticipated her lessons with him with a mixture of delight and dread; delight because she was able to spend time in the same room as him and dread because every time she had to be cold with him, speak to him as though he were just another pupil, she would be racked with a guilt so strong that it was almost a physical pain. Each time she had to tell him to be quiet or criticize him for handing in his homework late, she would feel like a monster, would have to fight the urge to take him in her arms and apologize.

It was harder than she'd ever imagined to treat him indifferently. Everything about him was just so appealing. And she was constantly assaulted with images of him in more intimate moments; when she saw him sitting in the back row of her classroom, all she could think of was how he'd looked when he'd lain in her bed the previous afternoon with the covers pulled up around him, hiding his strong, muscled chest.

They weren't strangers with each other at school though. Neither of them could bear that. They snatched secret, fleeting glances and touches whenever they could. Cesca would persuade Adanna to wander around the school field with her at lunchtime so that she could glimpse Jonah playing football, could clap as a supportive teacher should whenever he scored a goal. When they passed in corridors, which they did far more often than mere chance would dictate, they would exchange small smiles and allow their eyes to lock for a moment.

Occasionally, if the corridor was particularly crowded, Cesca would allow her arm to brush against his, and the gasp which escaped him when she did was enough to set her heart racing. Soon, these small touches and moments became more deliberate; Jonah would volunteer to hand out textbooks in her class just so that he could touch her hand when he took the books from her, she would stand far too close to him in the lunch queue, thrilled by how near he was. To Cesca, these moments were the most intense parts of her day; glorious technicolour splashes on a background of black and white. There were times when she felt that they were being so bold, so blatant, that it seemed ridiculous to her that no one else had picked up on their new-found closeness.

They became bolder and bolder and still no one noticed. Their hands would touch for longer now under the cover of textbooks or desks. When she helped him with his work, she would lean in dangerously close, allowing her hair to brush against his face or placing a hand on his shoulder.

Then, one day, Cesca found herself alone with him for the first time in school. It was entirely accidental; she had entered the sixth form common room to put up a poster advertising Spanish degree courses and had found him alone in the room, finishing his homework. She hesitated for a moment in teh doorway, unsure if she should simply leave before he saw her. Leaving would have been the most sensible thing to do, but nothing about this situation was at all sensible, so instead, she started to smile.

'Hey,' her voice startled him, but he seemed pleased to see her.

'Hey yourself,' her replied. Already the tone of their voices was more intimate than anything which should have been heard between a teacher and a pupil.

He stood up and came over to her, placing a hand gently on either side of her waist. 'Did you miss me?' he asked, his face very close to hers.

'Always,' she didn't pull away.

There was a pause and then he whispered, in a voice filled with emotion 'You're so beautiful. Every time I see you, you seem more beautiful than ever.'

All thoughts she'd had of drawing back, leaving the room, vanished as she brought her lips up to his.

After that, they found more and more ways to be alone together. The sixth form common room, the stationary cupboard in her classroom, even, on occasion, a dark and deserted staffroom, became their secret hideaway. They would snatch frantic kisses from each other, breathless with a heady mix of panic and desire. They would fumble together in darkness, engage in hasty lovemaking which satisfied neither of them and only drove them to seek out the next rendezvous more and more quickly. Then, in the afternoons, in the evenings, they would retreat back into the warm cocoon of Cesca's bedroom and give in to the temptation which had haunted them throughout the day.