Taught: A City's Secrets Novella

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By B. B. Hamel

Chapter One: Jim

Chapter Two: Emma

Chapter Three: Jim

Chapter Four: Emma

Chapter Five: Jim

Chapter Six: Emma

Chapter Seven: Jim

Chapter Eight: Emma

Chapter Nine: Jim

Chapter Ten: Emma

Chapter Eleven: Jim

Chapter Twelve: Emma

Chapter Thirteen: Jim

Epilogue: Emma

Thank You

Further Reading: Kinged

I
wished I hadn’t fallen in love, but I did. I wished even more that I hadn’t told her, but one day she began to slip away, and it was my only chance. I wished my heart wasn’t broken, but it happens. Whatever. Life moves on, even when we don’t want it to.

I was in love with Amy, and I confessed everything to her. The pain began to fade; it was over, and a lot happened since then. Still, her face, full of sadness and pity, is probably the lowest memory I have. I never wanted to be the kind of pathetic dude that admitted his undying love to a girl who didn’t feel the same way.

Anyway, I had to make a few changes after that. The place where I worked, Swirl Café, was full of more memories about her. We worked together for over a year, and got pretty close over that time. Or at least, I felt pretty close to her, though she didn’t exactly return my same feelings. So I quit that job and found a new one.

As it happens, it’s pretty easy to get a job teaching college courses in music if the head of the department is your dad’s oldest friend. I hadn’t seen him in years, not since I was a little kid, but when I applied he immediately called me up and offered me a spot. It was a really simple introductory music theory class, but it was something different, and it was potentially a future. The pay wasn’t great, and it was a lot of work, but there was nothing more rewarding than teaching people how to play. And it was better than moping around some shitty café, acting like a loser.

I found myself in the library more often than not. It was a huge concrete thing, three stories high, but I usually hung out in a back room on the second floor, books fanned out in front of me. I liked the silence and the solitude, and the unlimited supply of books wasn’t bad, either. I passed hours like that between teaching, and sometimes even on days that I didn’t have any classes. I had always liked to read, but for some reason when I had access to thousands of free books whenever I wanted, I fell deep into the black hole of obsessiveness. That happened with me sometimes; I got hung up on new things, new objects, new activities, and I spent days or weeks or months doing nothing but learning everything there was to learn. In a lot of ways, my new things were what gave me a reason to exist. I was easily excited about the next big thing, but all too often I moved on, half finished with my latest craze. Those days, my thing was reading in general, and I devoured everything from the classics to science fiction.

One Friday afternoon, late into the spring semester, I was holed up in my usual room, a little hidden cubby toward the back of the second floor behind the historical fiction section. I had a bunch of old science fiction novels arrayed around me, stuff like
1984
and
Animal Farm
, but also things I’d never heard of, like
Double Star
by Robert Heinlein and
Dhalgren
by Samuel Delaney. I was half way through the dizzyingly weird opening of
Dhalgren
, wondering what exactly was happening, when some girl knocked at the door.

I shouldn’t say
some girl
; it was more like, the hottest fucking girl I’d ever seen. I was an adjunct professor, but I was still a professor, and so I had to hold myself back from socializing with my students too much. But that girl, I couldn’t help but stare at her through the foggy glass window. Her eyes were a deep blue and her hair was auburn. Her full lips were pouted in this annoyed-but-still-sexy look that was irresistible. I was too busy staring to motion for her to come in, which she did on her own eventually anyway.

When she opened the door, my breath caught in my throat. She was probably a few inches shorter than me, and was wearing tight jeans with a simple black Metallica T-shirt and thick-rimmed black glasses. She was slim, but not skinny, and my eyes ran along her body, surprised at the curves and movements of her hips. Her lips were full and pink, and her skin was a creamy pale. Her hair was long, probably down to bottom of her breasts, which I couldn’t help but notice were full. I felt like a pervert taking her in, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. She was fucking fantastic. And she had this disgruntled look on her face, all screwed-up and pissed, which I found beyond hot. I badly wanted to gently pull her hair until her mouth opened, and then press my lips against hers.

“Uh, excuse me?” she said, finally snapping me out of my trance. I kept picturing what she looked like wearing only those glasses, but I had to pretend like I wasn’t.

“Yeah, sorry. Can I help you?” I said. Her face was stern, and I noticed she had a restocking cart parked behind her. I guessed she worked at the library, but wasn’t sure.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

I let that sink in for a second. I’d been coming to that room for a while and had never been bothered before. As far as I knew, it was one of those rare places that very few people knew about, or at least very few people who cared to use it.

“I’m sorry, is this reserved?” I asked. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her annoyance intensified. She looked cute, staring daggers at me. I grinned at her, picturing how she’d look straddling my lap and slowly sinking down onto my hard dick. I felt my cock begin to stir and had to force myself to cool it with the dirty thoughts.

“It’s meant for staff only, it’s supposed to be a sorting room.”

“Like where you guys put the kids into their houses?” I said.

She stared at me, either not a fan of Harry Potter, or not in the mood for lame jokes. “Sorry, not my rules.”

I closed
Dhalgren
and started to gather the books I had around me. “Sorry about that. I’ll go read somewhere else,” I said.

She continued to stare at me for a second, and then sighed. “Look, you can stay. Just, don’t leave anything in here.”

I paused, and looked at her again. Her face had softened, but she was still clearly annoyed. I wanted to apologize again and ask what her name was, but I felt weird breaking through that student-teacher boundary, despite how sexy I found her. She probably didn’t realize I was a professor, or at least I didn’t think that I looked like one, but still. I decided to keep it professional, at least for the time being.

“Alright, I’ll put this stuff back. Promise.”

She nodded, and then left. The door clicked shut behind her, and I was alone again in a cinderblock room with one too-bright fluorescent light and the smell of old, musty books. What normally was a refuge from the world suddenly felt drab and empty. I picked my book back up and started to read again, but my mind kept wandering back to that girl and her body and the way she stared at me like I was the biggest asshole in the world. I wanted to hunt her down and pin her against the stacks until she was begging for more. I wanted to run my hands along her body and feel her heavy breath against my neck.

I settled for reading instead.

I
thought love was for suckers. There was something so infuriating about all those love struck teenagers, those over-the-moon idiots with their big dewy eyes and their desperate need for attention. I had never been in love and didn’t plan on it; my only goal was to graduate on time with the best grades possible. I had a few good friends and a decent job at the library. I didn’t need some idiot guy messing that up.

Plus, my family had high expectations for me. I didn’t want to fail. I never had before, and I didn’t plan on starting. Love was a distraction, one I didn’t plan on getting involved with.

It was late into the semester when all of that changed.

I caught him reading in the Staff Only sorting room. It was supposed to be for sorting out the huge stacks of books we had to return, a quiet spot to think and figure out where everything was going to go before putting it onto the cart. I had been working at the library all semester and I had never seen him before, so I was pretty sure he didn’t work at the library. When I knocked, all he did was stare at me, which really pissed me off. I mean, there was clearly a sign right next to the door stating “Staff Only,” and yet he felt like that didn’t apply to him? What an asshole.

Whatever, it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but I was already annoyed from having gotten a mediocre grade on my French exam earlier that day, and I was probably looking for someone to take my frustration out on. I seriously wasn’t normally such a dork and a jerk, or at least I didn’t think I was, but something about him that caught me off guard.

Initially, he was nothing special, at least through the foggy glass window. He was in shape and had light skin, and his brown hair was unkempt. I guessed he was a grad student, or maybe a young professor. He definitely wasn’t an undergrad student, not with the wrinkly white dress shirt tucked into equally wrinkly slim fitting khaki pants. I had to admit, he was pretty cute, in the absent-minded-professor kind of way, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Eventually, I opened the door on my own, and all he did was continue to stare. He wasn’t even subtle about it: his eyes ran up and down my body with this smug look on his face. Part of me wanted to slap him, but I kept it cool instead.

“Um, excuse me?” I said.

He looked startled, like I was the one intruding or something. “I’m sorry, is this reserved?” he asked.

Was he joking? It was clearly marked. I couldn’t believe this idiot hadn’t noticed the sign. Or maybe he thought I was the idiot, which really pissed me off even more.

“It’s meant for staff only, it’s supposed to be a sorting room,” I said, and hoped he heard the biting annoyance in my tone.

Then he gave me the most annoyingly cute grin I had ever seen. His whole face seemed to light up, and it sent a weird jolt through my system.

“Like where you guys put the kids into their houses?” he said.

Was he kidding me? A lame Harry Potter joke? Okay, maybe it was a little funny, and it was adorable how much joy he took in his stupid joke. But I was in no mood to indulge the guy, and so I continued to stare daggers at him.

“Sorry, not my rules,” I said.

He closed what he was reading and continued to look at me. He started to gather the books he had arrayed around him when I noticed what he had been holding.
Dhalgren
by Samuel Delaney was one of my favorite books. It was this totally long and weird postmodern science fiction novel about a post apocalyptic town with some really weird features. It was totally circular and bizarre. Lots of kinky sex, too, which helped balance out some of the more boring parts. It wasn’t exactly a popular book, and I had to admit that I was impressed with his choice.

“Sorry about that. I’ll go read somewhere else,” he said. Suddenly, I felt bad, and realized I was being a complete jerk to this guy for no reason. He didn’t mean any harm, and I doubted anyone on staff actually used that room for anything anyway. I shouldn’t have taken out my own frustrations on him, and my guilt overwhelmed my duty to the library.

“Look, you can stay. Just, don’t leave anything behind in here,” I said.

He smiled and gave me this weird look I didn’t understand exactly. “Alright, I’ll put this stuff back. Promise,” he said.

I gave him a shrug then turned and left. There was something about him I couldn’t place. He was definitely cute, and clearly had okay taste in books, but it was something else. It kept bugging me as I pushed my cart away, back into a different part of the library. It had to do with the way he stared at me, like I was something special he had never seen before. Part of me wanted to go back there and talk to him some more, maybe apologize for being so bitchtastic, but I had a lot of work to do.

And besides, falling for a guy was stupid. I didn’t need his lips anywhere near my body, even if that was what I wanted.