Sweetest Taboo (18 page)

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Authors: Eva Márquez

BOOK: Sweetest Taboo
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The thought of Tom being banned from coaching infuriated me, because I knew how much he had enjoyed working with the swim team, and I knew that it was my fault he’d been banned from doing so. This was an unspoken guilty verdict, and proof that everyone believed we’d done what the police alleged. No wonder all the teachers looked at me the way they did. It was a wonder that Tom could still teach at Royal Oaks; he must know what his colleagues thought of him, and recognize the accusing looks of the other teachers. During the remainder of swim season, I swam without motivation, passion, or interest. My body propelled me forward, but I had no heart or enthusiasm for the sport. Tom sometimes stopped by the meets to help with timekeeping and these were my only exciting moments on the swim team.

***

Since I couldn’t see Tom at practice, I found other ways to do so. The situation with James had been disturbing, but had led me to some very important conclusions. James was only twenty-two – almost my age, and far more appropriate in regard to dating – but he’d made me feel like an object and as if I had no voice or decision-making capacity, something Tom never did. His eyes had suggested terrible things, and I’d left the department store early on many occasions to stop off at home and immediately shower before going to school for third period. I’d also made sure that my records didn’t include my home phone number, since I didn’t want him reaching me outside of the department store. I stayed away from him during first and second period from then on, and went out of my way to leave the space we shared if I could.

Tom, on the other hand, had always been kind, forgiving, and thoughtful. He was many years older than James and myself, but had treated me with admiration and respect, and more like an equal. He’d never frightened me or made me feel uncomfortable in his presence, and certainly never made me feel unsafe. The experience with James – and the emotions it brought up – just made me more determined to find a new common ground with Tom.

My morning drop offs at the school parking lot had been the first step in the development of a secret language that only Tom and I shared. Now, with every appearance, I knew that Tom was trying to speak to me, trying to let me know that he still cared, and most of all, that his heart still ached for me.

During one of our final home meets of the season, Tom showed up again as an official timekeeper. Rather than leaving silently after the meet concluded, as he had done in the past, he lingered behind. I watched him, wondering what he was up to. There were only a few people left on the concrete deck near the pool, and I made sure that I was one of them. Natalie and I lingered at the concrete benches that surrounded the deck, putting our things away slowly and discussing where we were going to go after the meet. I was making every effort to stay behind because it was clear to me that Tom was trying to get my attention.

“Come on, Isabel, are you ready?” Natalie asked finally. She put her flip-flops on and flung her swim bag over her shoulder.

I glanced in Tom’s general direction; he was standing just outside the main gate of the pool, near the girls’ locker room.

“Sure,” I replied. “Let’s go.”

We walked toward the gate, still wearing our wet bathing suits and furry parkas, drying our hair with our towels. I’d already decided that I was going to head straight home to take a shower, and was in the midst of telling Natalie that she was invited over when she noticed Tom standing at the gate.

“Hey, Mr. Stevens, what’s up?” she called out, smiling. All the swimmers had loved Tom when he was our coach, but they’d also jumped on the bandwagon when he was investigated. Natalie was one of the only girls on the team who didn’t talk about him like he was a criminal. “You know, it really sucks to be on the swim team this year. Aren’t you coming back? It’s no fun swimming for this team anymore.”

Tom smiled wryly. “I’m sure it’s not that bad, Natalie. At least you’ve got your buddies to keep you company, and keep you laughing. I’m sure you and Isabel are still managing to have a good time.”

Tom’s reference to me made me smile on impulse, and he turned his gaze toward me. His eyes looked brighter than ever, the sunlight diminishing his pupils to tiny black spots engulfed by a sea of tranquil greenish-brown.

“So,” he said, “how were your races, Isabel?”

Seeing that Tom was there to talk to me rather than her, Natalie waved at us both as she walked toward the girls’ locker room, just steps away. “I’m going to have a shower, Iz,” she called, plunging through the door. “I’ll meet you afterwards.”

Tom and I both stood and watched as she disappeared into the brick building’s main entrance. When she was gone, I turned back to him.

“I see your friend can take a hint,” Tom said as he stepped closer to me. “Does Natalie know something, or is she just in a hurry to leave?”

“No, she doesn’t know a thing. My days of telling my friends any secrets are over, you can be sure of that.” I felt my body slowly inching closer to Tom, as if pulled by some overpowering magnetic attraction, until I was finally standing no more than a foot away from him. “So what’re you doing here? I mean, it’s not really smart for us to be seen talking like this.”

Tom’s demeanor changed, and he suddenly became completely serious. His brows drew down in a frown. “You’re right, but I’ve tried, and I can’t hide from you. I’ve tried – for months now – not to notice you. As usual, you’re much better at this than I am. You’re doing a wonderful job at ignoring me, and going on with your life. You’re so good at it that it hurts. I know it’s for the best, but I just can’t do the same.” He looked up at me, hoping to see a look of understanding on my face as he waited for my response.

I swallowed, wishing I knew what to say. Tom’s words frightened me, but their truth tore at my heart. We were so close to trouble, so close to jail time, but when he was around I had trouble taking that seriously. I wanted to smell his familiar scent again, I wanted to feel the touch of his hands on my skin, feel his hair against my cheek, and feel that goatee of his bristling on my skin. These were all bad ideas, though, and I was very aware that we were being watched.

I cleared my throat and redirected my gaze towards my thin feet in their black rubber flip-flops. “I miss talking to you, too,” I confessed. “I wanted to write you a letter, but I didn’t know if it would be a good idea. Look maybe you could give me a call at home instead – ”

“No, I’d rather talk to you face to face,” Tom interrupted. “Can you come to my classroom tomorrow before third period? Just for five minutes?”

My heart raced. “Isn’t that dangerous? Should I be coming into your classroom? What would people think?”

“Isabel, relax,” Tom said, an edge of frustration in his tone. “Nothing’s going to happen if we’re careful. I don’t have a third period, so there won’t be any students in my classroom. Just stop by for a few minutes before you head to your third period class, can you do that for me?”

Of course I could do that for him, of course I could do that for me, of course I could do that for
us
, I thought, trying to convince myself that it would be okay. A small voice in my head shouted out a warning, but I pushed it down and nodded.

“All right,” I finally replied. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Great.” Tom broke into a relieved smile. “Now you’d better get going. I’m sure your friends are all waiting for you to give them rides home, you little taxi driver. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I smiled back at him, and then ducked my head and quickly headed toward the girls’ locker room.

***

My thoughts got the best of me that night, and all I could manage to do was toss and turn in bed, waiting for the hours to pass. Dozens of questions rushed through my head: what did Tom want to say to me that was so important that it had to be said face to face and not over the phone? Did he think that maybe his phone was tapped? Could
my
phone be tapped? Would the police department go to such lengths to come to the truth? Once a case was closed, could it be reopened just because one of the alleged victims was back in the country? What if the police department, with the permission of the school administration, had tapped Tom’s classroom, so they decipher who came in and out, and what was said?

The idea of my most intimate conversations with Tom being caught on tape, exposed to the police and eventually to the world, sent shivers up my spine. If Tom and I were exposed, my father’s heart would be broken. He would know that I had looked him straight in the eye and lied to him about having an affair with a married teacher. Worse, Tom could be charged and face jail time, and I would lose him forever. Maybe I should be more careful, I thought, and refuse to meet him. My heart yearned to be alone with Tom, though, to rediscover those moments that we shared in that classroom of his, and I told myself that everything would be okay.

I spent much of my retail training class the next morning prepping myself for my third-period meeting with Tom. I stripped the cellophane off the new inventory in the warehouse then walked quickly toward the perfume department. The department store didn’t open until ten in the morning, and the perfume department was empty.

I found an endless array of oddly shaped bottles of perfume on the shelves, waiting for customers to come in for samples. These were the “try me” bottles, and were already opened and ready for spraying. I inspected each shelf, carefully sniffing the lid of the bottles that caught my attention. After sniffing several bottles, I decided to go with a vanilla-scented, delicately shaped perfume bottle that rested comfortably in the palm of my hand. Vanilla was not one of my favorite scents, but I’d read somewhere that older men reacted positively to the scent of vanilla.

I misted myself generously with the perfume, taking the time to spray the scent over my hair and the nape of my neck. By the time I was finished, my white, fitted jeans and beige tank top, along with my long hair and skin, smelled lightly and pleasantly of vanilla.

I was on my way back to the room that served as our classroom, to gather my things, when James stepped out from behind a rack of clothes.

“Hey, Isabel, slow down,” he called out.

My first thought was that he’d seen me spraying on the perfume, and I slowed and pulled back. Before I had a chance to speak, though, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward him. I held my breath, struck by his possessiveness of me in such a public, and potentially dangerous place.

“Morning, princess,” he said with a smile. “You look like you’re on a mission today; I could hardly catch up with you. Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, James, I don’t have time to talk today,” I stuttered, my mind racing as I noticed all of James’ perfect masculine features. “We have an exam and I want to spend some time studying before class. I think the others are already waiting for me.”

James frowned and let go of my hand. “Oh, all right. You’d better go, then, if they’re waiting for you. Good luck on your exam, Isabel,” he said, winking at me and revealing those adorable dimples.

I nodded, a mischievous smile on my face, and rushed toward the elevator. Class would be out in five minutes, and I wanted to be in my car and driving by the time the other students left the department store. I ran by the classroom, gathered my things, and sprinted toward my car in the parking lot. The customers were starting to arrive, so I was anonymous through the small crowd that gathered at the main door, as I left early. I opened the door to my car, jumped in, and sped away for my meeting with Tom.

***

I slowed as I approached the campus, and tried to smooth my hair a bit. If I were late to Tom’s class, then I would have less time to spend with him, and I didn’t want to lose even a fraction of the time we would have alone. There was no way I could be late to third period; every teacher knew who I was now, because of the scandal, and I didn’t want any of them asking why I was late. Any instance could lead to assumptions, and assumptions could lead to more inquiries, which could lead Tom and I down a path that would end will nothing but trouble.

I also didn’t want to be seen rushing onto campus, though, as that could lead to more suspicions. I was walking a very fine line, with danger on both sides.

My nerves tingled and burned as I tried to stride casually toward Tom’s classroom. I kept my steps quick but careless, hoping that I looked like any other high school student on her way to third period. The hall was crowded, as usual, and I kept my eyes down until I turned into the right hall. I reached the heavy metal door of Tom’s classroom, took a moment to prepare myself for what lay ahead, as I reached out to turn the knob. I opened the door slightly, just wide enough for my body to fit, and slipped through. I closed the door quietly behind me.

To my surprise, Tom’s classroom was completely vacant. I took a few careful steps toward the darkroom, and quietly called out, “Hello? Anyone there?”

No answer.

In a louder voice, I tried again, “Anyone? Hello?”

Nothing.

I gulped. Precious time was ticking away. Had Tom changed his mind? Was I being set up? Was he gone, or in trouble somewhere? By my calculations, I had about four minutes left before I needed to walk to the other end of the campus for my third period class. That didn’t give me much time, and there was one place I hadn’t looked yet. I turned and walked boldly into the darkroom, my hands in front of me feeling my way through the darkness.

Once inside, the familiar smell of developing chemicals hit me like a ton of bricks, and a flood of emotions took over. This dark chamber with its chemical scent represented something special to me: the beginnings of my relationship with Tom, and many of our initial romantic encounters. This was where it had all started, and this scent would always remind me of that.

I suddenly felt someone’s hand take hold of my arm gently. Caught off guard, afraid, and unable to see who was there, I let out a soft gasp.

“It’s me, Isabel. Don’t worry. We’re completely alone,” Tom’s familiar voice whispered gently. He reached out and drew me close to him, his strong arms wrapped around my body, his face buried in my hair, his lips hovering over my ear, kissing me tenderly. I could feel the pounding of his heart on my chest, and it was difficult to make out whose heart was beating at a faster pace. I tried, but was unable to bear the explosion of emotions inside me, and tears began to roll down my face.

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