Page 6 of The Teacher

I’m determined to reach her in this conference room, reach her before she disappears on me. I’m determined to speak to her. I know she’ll want to get away from me, but she can’t leave the afterparty of her brother’s wedding. She just has to talk to me here. The room isn’t even crowded, people are still making their way back from the beach so the place is quiet. They slowly stream in one by one.

Perfect conditions for me to speak to her.

But I knew Sandy would be here early, just as she always is. She’s always the early bird, ready to solve any potential disaster that’s looming. Oh, I know her like the back of my hand. We know each other so well. Eight years apart won’t change the depth of mutual understanding we have between us.

She has to speak to me now. She’s trapped.

It’s been strange being back in New Water after all this time. The last I saw of the town was the last time I ever saw Sandy. The last time I was even in Australia. All these familiar streets of my childhood are just the same. Nothing has changed. The same buildings I remember stand on every corner. The places. The beach. It’s still the sleepy coastal town that dominates my memories. Nothing has changed, just like Sandy. I recognize a lot of faces at the wedding. Small towns are like that. It’s been a blast from the past.

But I’m not here for the trip down memory lane. No. I’m here for one thing, and one thing only.

Sandy Finn.

The last person I ever saw when I left New Water eight years ago was her. And now I’m back in town, and all I want to do is see her again.

I wave to my bodyguard, Steve, to not follow me as I walk across that hotel conference room right up to her.

The girl from my memories.

She stands there with a shocked expression that turns into disgust and anger as I approach. Just as I know she would, just as I expect, but I am not deterred. This is what I’ve dreamt about every night since I got the wedding invitation. Sandy Finn has haunted all my sleeping hours for the past few months, and I need to resolve this.

The girl from my dreams.

Even up close she still looks the same as she did when we were teenagers. Tall, slim, with long wavy blonde hair and her Aussie tanned skin. Nothing has changed about her at all. She’d blossomed young and had stayed beautiful, just like she had been in my dreams. But she is even better than my dreams.

She is real.

And she’s now standing in front of me. I walk up to her and smile my best smile.

“Hi,” I say, and from her response I know shit’s about to go down.

3

SANDY

His stupid smile.

His stupid, gorgeous smile.

I thought I’ll never see that smile again, not in a million years. My body goes weak at the sight of him and I know right there that he’s going to undo me.

No, Sandy. Don’t you dare fall for one of his stupid tricks.

“Hi,” he says when he reaches me. I have nowhere to run, nowhere to escape from Skipper Deep. All the time it takes for him to stroll his cocky little walk across the room to me I do absolutely nothing.

I don’t run.

I don’t flee.

Instead, I stay, frozen to the spot, shocked at seeing his face again after all these years apart. He knows he’d shock me here. This has been his evil plan, knowing I can’t escape from this place. He knows he can talk to me in this conference room at the wedding of my brother and I have no way of running away.

Hi.

With his single word of greeting, he’s stripped me utterly bare. All the defenses I’ve built up over the last eight years fall apart at his first word. Tattered. Ruined. My defenses are no help to me now. I can do nothing against him, or his power over me. This is the worst thing; the knowledge that one word from him can still transform me back into that weak blubbering teenage girl I thought I’ve exterminated inside me. Eight years later and he still has a supernatural power over me and my heart.

Plus, he still looks devastatingly handsome. That doesn’t help at all.

He wears an expensive black suit that barely conceals how athletic his muscular body is. His stubble is immaculately kept like an elite Soccer player. His brown eyes sparkle. His jawline is made by the gods. His short brown hair’s thick with years of careful, and probably very expensive, management. He’s utterly exquisite in every way, just as he’d been when we were teenagers. Charming and alluring. Like fine wine. Vintage. That’s Skipper Deep summed up.