Stories Poems Artwork Quizzes

Tests & Quizzes

Social

Stories

Art

Poems

Comedy

Email:
Password:
New User Or

Created By

irwinwe

Rate this Story

+11

Embed

<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/irwinwe/41114">Professor Kane 10</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">11</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/irwinwe/41114"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/41114.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 4	Halcyon Fire
+ 7	Professor Kane 12 (edited)
+ 3	Professor Kane 9 (edited)
+ 9	Professor Kane 12
+ 8	Professor Kane 11
+ 11	Professor Kane 10
+ 14	Professor Kane 9
+ 11	Professor Kane 8
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 8
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 7
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 6
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 5
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 4
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 3
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 2
+ 5	Gainsay Who Dare
+ 13	Professor Kane 7
+ 12	Professor Kane 6
+ 16	Professor Kane 5
+ 13	Professor Kane 4

 

Despite the fact that my love triangle was a constant distraction, and the fact that I had gotten approximately 4 hours of sleep total the past two nights, and the fact that I was running off of 5-hour energy shots and coffee, I had been able to manage typing what I thought was a strong final paper.  And now, the fifty page packet was clutched for dear life between my shaking, caffeinated grip.  I was going to turn it in and, hopefully, never gaze upon it again.  And then I was going to get another cup of coffee, because it felt like some imaginary spawn of the devil was pounding on my head with a fiery pitchfork. 

 

The day was windy, and with each gust of wind a small piece of my hair would catch on my lip gloss.  It happened a third time, and I frustratingly reached up to gather my long hair into a ponytail with my hands.  It didn't help, as my layers came loose from my grip, and I shook my head to clear the hair away.  Then a shooting pain went through my head with the movement, and at that point I just scrunched my nose, exhaled disgustedly, and let my hair go, deciding that it didn't really matter anymore anyway.  I already had dark circles under my eyes and looked exhausted; what would messed-up hair and smeared lip gloss matter?  I continued walking forward toward the history building.  I had already decided that I was staying in St. Andrews for the summer to get a head-start on research for my Ph.D., so I wasn't really feeling nostalgic about leaving the place as everyone else may have been.  I was currently nostalgic, however, for my flat, and for the bed in my flat, and for the glorious vision of the world behind my eyelids. 

 

Kane had instructed the class to turn in the papers to the general history office, as he had to attend a family event at his father's estate.  I often caught myself wondering what it looked like, wondering if he would ever take me there, and wondering if we would ever be exclusive enough for him to introduce me to his family.  I was already in a prickly mood, so these unsubstantiated questions, instead of making me pensive as they usually would have, made me discouraged.  The last time I had been with Kane, he had equated me with the woman in his life he had most loved.  But were all his words in vain if we could never make this relationship between us official?  The spontaneity of our secret relationship excited me, but the fact that the relationship was secret at all made me feel like we were sneaking and lying and thus building a relationship based off of unrealistic grounds.  I knew Kane was a man who only uttered genuine words and acted with genuine thought, so I figured he was preventing himself from pursuing me any further because he didn't want to have a relationship that wasn't allowed to be genuine without being ridiculed.  And ours, teacher and student, if it became official, would be doomed to ridicule. Neither one of us wanted to choose between law and love, but the choice would have to be made.  And soon.  Before one of us gave up, or before some other opportunity seized us away with its second-rate promises. 

 

I handed my paper to Quinn, the middle-aged lady that worked in the history office.  She took one look at my tired expression and lowered her reading glasses on her nose so that she could peer over top of them to study me curiously.  Then she raised her brows. 

 

"Ye look like ye've just fought a bloody battle, Miss Irvine" she said to me, insensitive to the fact that most women hated to be told they looked tired. 

 

I laughed and pointed towards my brain, "I think I just have, in here."

 

"Aye, along wi' just about everyone in the class.  Mr. Ross was just ‘ere a moment ago.  I've never seen tha' lad with a beard.  It looks as if he's been in a cave for the past few days" she finished, chuckling to herself.  I snorted abruptly, amused, and then, partly because I had just snorted, and partly because I couldn't help imagining the suave, never-do-wrong-by-social-standards Iain Ross with excess stubble, I began to giggle uncontrollably.  Quinn took a sip of her coffee, eyeing me suspiciously.  I waved my hand at her, as a motion for her to forgive my inane, sleep-deprived behavior.  "I'm sorry" I muttered between giggles, feeling embarrassed.  And when I even then couldn't stop laughing, I just handed her my paper. 

 

"Well" she said amusedly, "at least I know the battle in your brain was successful.  If it werena successful, ye wouldna be laughing like a loony." 

 

Once I had finally gotten enough air to bid her a good day, and walked out into the hallway, I had only gone a few paces before I caught sight of Iain Ross himself.  And upon seeing him, I doubled over, laughing.  Holding back his own laughter, he came to stand before me.  Then he pretended to look off in the distance, pensive expression on his face, as he stood there and jokingly stroked his thick stubble as if he were Santa Claus.  "What?  What's the joke?  I doona get it" he said innocently.  Then he smiled broadly, probably thinking it amusing that I was getting such a kick out of this beard of his. 

 

"You look like hell" he said with a worriedly amused voice as he clucked me beneath the chin, "you should get some sleep, aye?"

 

"Yeh?" I responded, before and after giggling.  "You look like hell too." 

 

"Thank you" he said as he smiled broadly again, "darling.  Then I shall join you in your nap.  Preferably in your bed, but..." 

 

I made a noise of protest and reached out to slap him on the arm, which in all actuality came down upon him with the force of an aimless flop.  He looked at his arm where I had hit him and then back at me.  "Wha' was tha'?" he asked, laughter contained but threatening to come forth. 

 

I pointed a finger at him.  "You will not bed in my sleep" I commanded.  Then he broke out into laughter.  I looked at him, befuddled.  Then I thought about what I had said for a moment, and opened my mouth on an epiphany.  "Wait, that didn't sound right, did it?" 

 

"Miss Irvine?" I heard from behind me, through the raucous laughter Iain and I were creating in the hallway.  It was Quinn's voice.  I turned around to face her, expecting her to make some sort of a joke in regards to our obnoxious, quite ridiculous, behavior.  I grimaced, however, when I saw her solemn face, hoping that we didn't really make her as upset as she currently seemed.  My giggles stopped, and our mirthful event became a serious occasion. 

 

"Miss Irvine I'm glad ye're still ‘ere.  I need tae see ye in my office immediately" she said, the look on her face tense. 

 

"What happened?" I asked, the coffee on my empty stomach making me feel jumpy and abruptly nauseated. 

 

"Ye ‘ave a phone call" she said, urging me into the office, "it's urgent."  My breathing increased as my heart raced. 

 

"Phone call?" I asked breathlessly.  "From who?"

 

"It's from home" she said with worried eyes, as if she wanted to say something to help me but couldn't think of the words. 

 

"Home?" I more whispered than spoke, and then rushed into her office with a mind glazed over to all but what could possibly be wrong at home.  My parents always called me at my apartment or on my international cell phone.  Why were they calling me here at St. Andrews University, on the St. Andrews University phone?  Was everyone alright? 

 

"Iain, could ye please wait for Ellen outside?  I fear she will need you...God bless her" I heard Quinn whisper from just outside the door.  I couldn't stand it any more.  What on earth was going on?  I gritted my teeth and picked up the phone. 

 

"Hello?" I asked, heart racing.

 

"Hello?  Miss Irvine?" Came a strange voice from the other end of the receiver. 

 

"Yes" I whispered, before clearing my throat.  "This is she."

 

"Miss Irvine, this is Shannon from Baptist Hospital East in Louisville, Kentucky."

 

I stopped breathing.  The hairs on my arms and neck rose, and I felt like I was being pricked be 1,000 nails all at once.  "What do you want?" I whispered bluntly, scared out of my mind. 

 

"Miss Irvine, I'm sorry to have to tell you this..." she started from the other line. 

 

"No" I whispered, tears already coming to my eyes.  I shook my head.  This couldn't be real.  No way, it was too much like some book I had read, or like some movie I had seen.  This was too fictional to be real, just another product of my lack of sleep.  "This is a joke" I continued on a half-whisper, forcing myself to laugh "very funny."

 

"Miss Irvine, I'm very sorry but your father has had a massive heart attack, and he may not make it out of surgery" the lady said, her words like the hiss of cold water on hot steel.  I could not speak, but stood there, look of horror painted on my face, breathe caught in my chest, tears welling up in my eyes. 

 

"Miss Irvine?" the lady asked, "Miss Irvine, his chances of surviving are very slim.  You have been advised to come home as soon as you can.  Miss Irvine, are you there?"

 

"No" was all I was able to croak, as my heart rose in my throat, the force of it so strong that when I did exhale, it was on an exploded sob.  I sank to the floor, easing the phone away from my ear, my hand unable to hold it upright any longer, as my silent racking sobs were taking too much of my energy. 

 

I saw Iain's hand take the phone from mine, but I wasn't in his same world anymore.  I was somewhere outside myself, hovering.  He pulled me to my feet, and then into his embrace.  I tried to fight my way free, feeling suffocated, but he held me fast and rocked me.  He spoke to me softly as well, and stroked my hair, but I do not know what he said, and my mind was spinning too quickly to appreciate his touch.  So I weakly remained against his chest, sobbing. 

 

Moments later, I had recovered to the point that I could drink the water the Quinn had brought to me, but my body was still laden with tremors, and all I could think about was getting away.  I wanted to just run away from my life, to pretend like none of this was happening. 

 

Iain rode in the taxi with me on the way back to my apartment.  He didn't really say anything, just comforted me.  It was kind of him to be there, I thought, but nevertheless, he had never lost anyone before, and he did not know what to say to me to make me feel better. 

 

"You should talk tae Kane" he whispered at one point, "he'd be able to comfort ye better than me, him losing his mum and all." 

 

I looked up at him, wondering if he knew what was between Kane and I.  But even if he did know what was between us, I only saw concern in the dark silver shade, and fleetingly, just because he always seemed to be there for me when I never asked him to be, and just because it had been such a selfless suggestion for me to talk to Kane instead of him, and just because right then I knew he cared, I loved him too.  He stared back at me, and I didn't turn my head when I saw his lips come to meet mine.  But they were only there for a breath, as he had pulled away as quickly as he had advanced, instead pushing my head onto his shoulder and resting his own on my hair.  I wondered faintly why he had not taken the bold route, why he had not just taken the conquest that so easily had been placed into his arms at that moment in time.  Maybe he was actually remembering our conversation in the glen.  Perhaps he didn't want to kiss me, or to show me that he wanted me only physically, because he knew I could see straight through those actions.  Maybe, just as he was trying to encourage me to let go, I was teaching him how to hold on to something intangible. 

 

These were my final musings as I drifted off to sleep, head still on his shoulder. 

© 2008

Top Users | Contact Us | Privacy | Terms | Advertise | Disclaimer