The next two weeks proved uneventful for the most part. Alex strayed a bit from the syllabus (for the sake of the kids) and was rewarded with more participation than in the past. Her classes at Columbia University began that Thursday, and she was looking forward to conversing with students closer to her own age.
Piper, she discovered, was the student body vice-president, which meant that she was one of four speakers at high school assemblies every Monday. Alex continued to admire the girl's poise and intelligence, but she dared not admire more. She noticed that the blonde had a number of acquaintances, but very few close friends. She wondered if that had to do with her level of maturity or the simple lack of interest that teenagers had for a girl whose intelligence quotient was double most kids her age.
Although Alex had yet to see or hear about Piper's relationship with boys, she couldn't help but pay attention to chatter between classes about with whom the blonde would go to the Homecoming dance. Apparently, Piper Chapman was quite the catch—a fact that Alex didn't need confirmed.
On the Thursday when her Master's classes began, Alex tried to pack up her things quickly at the end of the day so that she could catch the train into the city in time for her 6 p.m. class.
Piper stood in the doorway of the classroom. "Have you had a chance to look at my essay yet?"
"Sorry, kid. I've been swamped with grading quizzes from other classes." She shoved two folders into her bag. "Promise I'll get it done by Monday."
"I didn't put much effort into it," the blonde admitted. "So I didn't want you to judge me on that paper alone."
"I'm not judging you, Piper," Alex snickered. "I have to grade you, yes, but I'm not judging you."
"It's just…" she shifted her weight. "I'm a better writer than that."
"Ok." The dark haired woman shrugged. "Don't sweat it. I'm sure it's fine."
"Fine won't cut it; not for Smith," she grumbled.
"We'll talk about it on Monday." Alex stood and met the younger girl at the door. She placed her hand on Piper's shoulder and felt the girl tense. "I have to go."
She immediately regretted the bodily contact, but then the blonde took a step closer, invading Alex's physical space. "Where?"
"Columbia—my first grad school class." Alex had to move; the nearness to Piper was too much, so she began walking down the hallway towards the second set of stairs.
"That sounds like fun." She smiled.
Alex let out a long breath. "We shall see."
She bit her lower lip. "Kick some ass, Alex."
"Thanks, kid." With that, the brunette jogged down the stairs and headed towards the train station.
On the train ride, she thought of how young and impressionable most of her students were, but not Piper. She seemed a little unsure of herself, but for the most part, she was smart and sophisticated. Alex dug in her bag for Piper's essay on Jhumpa Lahiri's, The Namesake. Unlike the rest of the two-paged papers, Piper's was four pages, single-spaced. The brunette read every word, and by the time she got to the conclusion, she realized that she hadn't made one red mark on the essay.
It was perfect.
Alex couldn't remember a time when she'd read something, other than some famous author's work, that didn't need corrections. Even her own first and second drafts needed quite a bit of help. But Piper's essay was astoundingly good.
She stared at the front page for a moment and wrote the only thing that came to mind at the top of the paper: Excellent.
In her first class at Columbia that night, Alex's mind drifted to her young student, thinking that she would get as much out of the course as her. That's when it hit her: 17-year-old Piper Chapman could very well be her intellectual equal.
Alex spent most of the weekend at her mom's house, helping her put up the fall decorations she'd bought at The Dollar Tree. She found it refreshing to be away from Gateway, though if pressed, she'd admit to liking her job more than expected. It wasn't the teaching that troubled her; that was going fine, it was that Piper Chapman had gotten under her skin.
She enjoyed debating with the young blonde far too much—it harkened her back to an American Literature class at Berkeley junior year when she and Talia Worthman went head to head about the merits of Ray Bradbury. Alex had to remind herself daily that hers was not a college class, and Piper was just 17. She also had to remind herself to not allow Piper to dominate the conversation in class. There were already occasions when the two of them verbally sparred for 10 minutes without input from other classmates.
"Are any of your students pains in the ass?" Her mom enquired while hanging a paper mache pumpkin from the ceiling.
"Only a couple," she replied, handing her a piece of tape.
Diane stuck the black string to the ceiling. "Are any of them super smart?"
"One girl," she admitted. "Piper Chapman—too smart for her own good."
"I know her!" Diane announced proudly. "She's always been real sweet to me in the lunch line."
"Really?" Alex grinned.
"Yeah." Diane opened a bag of plastic autumnal leaves and spread them across the coffee table. "I know her family's got a shitload of money, but she seems pretty down to earth."
The brunette raised her brows. "She's rich?"
"Haven't you seen the Chapman Library?"
"Fuck," she mumbled to herself. "I guess I didn't put two and two together."
A hundred thoughts swirled through her mind, not the least of which was what a dumb shit she was to let Piper into her home not once, but twice. Her rich parents could have her fired in a New York second for so much as looking at their precious daughter with licentious eyes.
"Piper's a gem," Diane continued. "Is it alright if I tell her you're my daughter?"
"Sure." Alex shrugged. Might as well let her know that she's from the other side of the tracks. That would actually be good, she thought, then maybe the blonde wouldn't be so set on falling into Alex's good graces.
The younger Vause decided to spend Sunday night at her mother's house and commute to work with her the next morning. She figured a night without the possibility of running into Piper would be good for her.
Because the high school operated on a rotating schedule, the Advanced Lit class was the last period of the day on Monday.
As promised, Alex handed back the Jhumpa Lahiri essays at the beginning of class. She was astonished to see how well these students analyzed text, but most of them still had a long road ahead. Two students received an A: Piper and Yunyun Xu, a Chinese boarding student whose father owned a major telecommunications company in Shanghai.
Piper approached her teacher after the bell rang. "How was your first grad school class?"
"It was great, thanks." Alex tucked a book into her knapsack and hoisted it over her shoulder.
"That's good." Piper looked at her feet before proceeding. "You didn't mark my paper at all."
The brunette continued walking out the door and down the hall. Piper kept up with her.
"It didn't need marking."
The blonde riffled through the pages, apparently looking for red ink. "There has to be something I did wrong."
They walked out of the building and along the path towards the dorm.
"No, it was fine." She picked up her pace, keeping her eyes trained dead ahead.
Piper jogged ahead a few steps, and then walked backwards so that she was facing her teacher. "I don't feel like I captured the essence of India."
Alex looked down and was captivated by Piper's legs—they were long and quite muscular in a feminine sort of way. Her thighs flexed with every step, and the brunette couldn't tear her eyes away. "You did." She gripped the straps of her bag until her knuckles turned white. Eighty more steps and I'm home.
"Mrs. Rankin used to give me constructive criticism," she tried as they passed the dormitory. "All you can tell me is that it's fine?"
Alex stopped abruptly. "I'm not Mrs. Fucking Rankin, ok? I'm telling you that your paper was good. It was excellent, in fact, which is what I wrote on the front page."
"Ok." Piper stopped walking and moved out of Alex's path. "Have a nice night."
Once she entered her home, Alex crashed on the couch and rubbed her eyes. She needed to concentrate on helping the students in her class who had trouble with syntax, not Piper Chapman, who could do a lecture on the subject.
By the time Halloween rolled around, Alex had established herself as a competent teacher, and although she hated it, a veritable sex symbol among the boys. She continued to dress conservatively, though Fridays were casual days and all bets were off. She often wore her black jeans, biker boots and a dark knit top.
Piper, along with her fellow student government officers, ran Spirit week prior to Homecoming, which made her far less conspicuous around Alex's classroom. The dark haired woman was thankful for the distraction, but she was reminded of her often as she read three more essays by the talented Piper Chapman.
Alex despised the fact that she couldn't mark up any of the student's work. She'd tried to make a comment on the George Orwell paper about how Piper failed to identify Tom Parson's personal characteristics, but she knew that the author's intention was as such—the reader wasn't meant to know him on a personal level. Piper clearly understood that.
On Friday afternoon, Alex made the trek back to her house, excited about an evening alone at home with a couple of longnecks and some grad school reading. The Homecoming football game was that night, and she knew if she turned up her music, she'd be able to tune out the crowd and ignore the game.
At about 9 o'clock, she decided to go for a walk to take in the brisk October air, and she was thankful that the game was over and the crowd had dispersed.
"Hi, Alex!" A girl called from the field.
Alex recognized her as one of the Madisons in her class. "Hi, how was the game?"
"We won!" She high-fived her teacher, and Alex hardly knew how to react.
"Looks like everyone is gone. You ok walking home?" The teacher asked.
"Oh, I'm fine. Piper just went to congratulate her boyfriend. We'll be on our way in just a minute."
"Piper?" She couldn't help herself from enquiring. Boyfriend?
"Yeah, you know Piper Chapman," the girl began. "Tall, blonde, dimples…"
Alex had certainly noticed her smile, but she hadn't noticed dimples. "Yes, I know Piper," she cut Madison off for fear of even more physical descriptors. "I didn't realize she had a boyfriend."
"She'd probably kill me for calling Ankit that," Madison said. "He's the quarterback. They're going to Homecoming together."
Of course he is. Alex was glad for that bit of information. It meant that there really was nothing between them—nothing more than a teacher/student relationship—which she figured all along. It was just nice to have that confirmed by one of the Madisons.
"Right." She cursed herself for her tone and tried to make up for it with her next line. "Have fun at the dance tomorrow night."
"We will!"
As the brunette walked back to her house, she heard footsteps behind her.
"Alex!"
She didn't need to turn around to confirm whose voice the call belonged to. "Piper," she said under her breath.
"Were you at the game?" The blonde asked when she caught up.
"No, I decided to go for a walk after reading 200 pages of crime narratives for my class."
The two walked in silence for a moment. Alex was acutely aware of two things: the damp grass that was clinging to her boots and Piper's right arm that errantly hit her twice on the hip.
"Still nothing constructive to say about my writing?" Piper finally asked.
"What do you want me to say?" Alex shrugged. "You write very well."
Piper stopped directly in front of Alex. She regarded her teacher and then looked at her feet. "I want to be a better writer. I thought you could help me with that."
Alex almost ran into her. "As I've said before, you're an excellent writer, Piper. I have nothing to add."
"That's bullshit!" the blonde exclaimed. "Why aren't you giving me feedback?"
"Keep your voice down!" Alex pleaded as she saw a light go on in one of the other faculty homes.
"I'll keep my voice down when you're honest with me," Piper challenged.
Alex shook her head, stepped around the younger girl, and walked at a faster pace towards her house, hoping that Piper would lose steam and return to her boyfriend.
The two minutes that it took to walk home felt like an eternity. The night air caused Alex to puff out billows of smoke, and her lungs burned at every intake of damp air. She shoved her key in the lock and opened the door only to find her student on her heels.
Once the door was unlocked, she whipped around. "You can't come in, Piper."
"I can come in." The blonde tilted her head. "You just don't want me to."
The dark haired woman lifted her glasses on top of her head. "It's late, kid. Go home or…go spend time with your boyfriend. You just shouldn't be here."
As Alex tried shutting the door, Piper put her hand on the flat surface and stopped it. "I want to be here."
The teacher closed her eyes. "Why?"
"Because I want to be a literary critic when I grow up, and you're the first person in my life who hasn't shunned that idea."
Alex took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and let her head roll back. "Fuck," she complained under her breath.
The two women exchanged a glance, both seemingly aware of the other's physical presence. Piper was, she thought, far too aware of situations to not know what was happening between the two of them. She was thankful that they both chose to ignore the intimate side of what could happen.
Piper proceeded into the kitchen and found a bottle of tequila on the counter. She poured two small glasses and put an ice cube in each. "I know this isn't the good stuff, but I took an agave class in Cancun while my parents sunbathed, and they said that only Americans take shots of tequila. It's meant to be savored just like a fine whiskey."
"You're not a normal teenager," Alex said, accepting the proffered glass.
"And you're not the average teacher," the blonde retorted.
Piper raised her glass for a toast. "Here's to figuring each other out."
The dark haired woman could do nothing but smile and take a small sip of the amber liquid.
"I could get fired for this," she stated as she watched the blonde grimace after taking her first sip.
"I wouldn't allow it," she said after her second. "My dad is on the Board. He donates a considerable amount of money."
She leaned her hip against the Formica. "Even so, Piper, this is not normal student/teacher behavior."
"Do you enjoy talking to me?" She asked innocently.
At first, the dark haired woman thought about lying. "Yes."
Piper shrugged. "Then let's talk."
Alex grabbed the glass from her guest's hand. "We can talk in class and maybe even after class if you have questions, but we cannot talk in my private residence." She swigged the amber liquid from Piper's glass and then put both glasses in the sink. "And I'm not getting you drunk."
"That's what all of my friends are doing right now, you know." She crossed her arms. "Getting drunk and making out."
"You're not like them." The brunette put one hand on her student's back and pushed her gently towards the door.
As they got closer to the entryway, Piper slowed down and pushed her back against Alex's hand, making it harder for the teacher to lead her out.
Alex chuckled. "Don't make me drag you out, kid."
The blonde turned to face her and giggled at their antics. "I'll leave on one condition: you take me to one of your grad school classes."
Alex pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment. They wouldn't be in the same car (they'd take the train) and if caught, they could say they were going their own way into the city. "Deal. Next Thursday. Meet me at the train station at 4:45."
Piper jutted her hand out to shake on the deal. "Sounds good."
They walked to the door, and as Piper made her way down the sidewalk, Alex called after her. "Hey, kid…You're going to be an outstanding literary critic."
Piper smiled and waved. "Good night, Alex."
Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback; it keeps me going. If you like it, say it.