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“Joel, listen. You really should move on, you know? Get back out into the dating pool and find someone better suited for you.” There. That was gentle and kind, but at the same time, it was the bottom of the well for me. I didn’t have one more nicety in my body for the guy. But he physically recoiled as though I’d stabbed him.
The guy grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a solid shake. “No, Maye, I just want you.”
I tried to throw his uninvited hands off, but he was gripping tight enough to bruise.
He continued with his desperate appeal. “And I’ve been thinking a lot about the things you said, and you’re right. I can do better.” Over his shoulder, I saw Professor Chaplin exit the building and zero right in on Joel and me.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, and it was enough to make him turn to see what I was reacting to. While he was distracted, I got out of his grip and took a step back, rubbing where I would surely have marks by bedtime.
My teacher rerouted his path to intercept us, and I held my breath while trying to predict what was about to happen.
I hated confrontation. Of any kind. I didn’t particularly enjoy the scene between that woman and me in Chaplin’s office today, and the potential of this personality collision was way worse. Anxiety churned my gut inside out.
“Is this boy bothering you, Ms. Farsey?” he asked sternly.
Instantly, Joel puffed out his chest and swung his whole body to face Chaplin.
Stupid boy. Don’t do it.
But of course he did. “No, I’m not bothering her. She’s my girlfriend, and we’re talking,” he said, looking like he held back a few choice words he wanted to add to the end.
I had to interject. “I’m not your girlfriend, Joel. We broke up. And I don’t want to work on things, or whatever brought you here today. Please don’t do this again.” I felt proud of myself for not cowering to defuse the scene.
But what the hell was Chaplin playing at?
I would have never predicted him getting involved in my personal business. Though common decency would’ve directed any person with a shred of humanity in their soul to help when something didn’t seem right.
Chaplin stared Joel down, but the guy was not backing off. I began to tell my ex to just leave, but my professor stepped between us. Physically wedged his body between Joel and me.
Fuck me sideways, the man never looked sexier than he did when he was coming to my rescue. Spurred into motion from the adrenaline spiking my system, I spun on my heel and power-walked away from the men. If they were about to go to blows, I didn’t want to witness it.
I’d gotten halfway across the greenbelt when I heard Chaplin calling my name. “Maye! Stop!”
Over my shoulder, I saw him in quick pursuit. He had covered half the distance I’d gained with my head start and was closing the rest of the gap.
“Just wait a minute,” he shouted. I wanted to obey his command and continue fleeing at the same time.
Unfortunately, because I wasn’t watching where I was going, I tripped over a protruding root of one of the ancient oak trees and went down like a sack of potatoes.
Luckily, I braced for myself impact, or I would’ve been Googling emergency dental offices. But when I got my wits back about me and looked at my throbbing palms, both were skinned and bleeding.
“For Christ’s sake,” I clearly heard him say as he squatted down to survey the damage. “Are you okay?” Before I could respond, he grabbed both wrists and turned my hands so he could inspect for himself.
Pain that felt way too intense for just the scrapes I suffered bolted through my entire right arm, and I cried out. Professor Chaplin loosened his grip but didn’t release me completely as he studied my face with great concern.
“Where does it hurt?” he demanded. I tried to pull away again, but he wouldn’t relent. “Answer me, damn it, Maye.”
“My arm,” I whimpered. “My whole arm hurts. Really bad.” Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn’t be more embarrassed. Through the pain, I croaked, “It hurts all the way up to my shoulder. I must have landed harder than I thought.”
His face shifted from the panic that was there just moments before to genuine concern. “Let me help you up. We should probably have it looked at.”
Out of habit, I disagreed. We were taught from early childhood to tough it out. Not every little scratch or scrape was cause for a scene. With a house full of females, my father made sure we weren’t frail little damsels in distress.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure it’s fine,” I insisted. But oh my God, it hurt so badly I had to choke back the tears that were blurring my vision. “I’m sure it’s fine,” I repeated, trying to convince myself as much as him.
“Here, take my arm with the good one, and we’ll get you on your feet.” He thrust his forearm toward me to assist, but I was nothing if not stubborn. I put the slightest weight on both wrists to balance while I stood up, and again, the right arm felt like a bolt of lightning struck me to the bone.
“Fuck!” I shouted and toppled to the side. Andrew was right there, thankfully, and he steadied me until I had my body under control. Tears streaked my cheeks in the early evening heat, and the whole world seemed to be spinning in the wrong direction. My head felt gauzy and thick, and darkness closed in from the edges.
