Dear Mr. Brody by A.M. Johnson

Donovan

The crisp November air clung to my cheeks as I stepped inside the classroom and switched on the lights. My heart skipped a beat as the room illuminated. The lecture notes from the professor who’d used the classroom earlier were still scribbled across the white board. I thought after my first class, maybe even the first week, the sensation, the excitement would have died out, but it never did. Every class started the same. My hands would get clammy as the students started to roll in. I’d worry my assignment or lesson plan would be boring and not well received, or worse, someone would fall asleep during my lecture. I’d only had a couple of students drop the class at the beginning, and I tried to remember that every time I got nervous. And as much as it shouldn’t have, it always helped having Parker in the room. The secret smiles he’d send my way had given me the confidence to continue without missing a step whenever I stuttered over something, or when I’d get overly excited about one of the books a student had chosen for their paper. He believed in me as much as I believed in him.

When I signed up for the dating app at the end of August, I never thought I’d find something serious. I’d thought I would go on a few dates, be single for once, figure out what I wanted next, figure out who I was beyond Lanie, beyond being a dad, and maybe, if I was lucky, I’d find someone. Someone to let me figure things out on my own, someone to let me discover myself at a pace I could handle, someone who wouldn’t rush me into something I wasn’t ready for. Parker had done all of that and more. He helped me see myself through a clear lens, and when I opened my eyes every morning, I no longer questioned what I wanted. Parker was my next step, my new beginning, and tonight I was ready to give him everything, all of me. He never pressured me, never asked me for what I knew he wanted, and maybe it was kind of terrifying, the idea of giving him my body the way he had given me his so many times, but it also gave me solace.

I was distracted by my thoughts and missed it when the classroom door opened.

“Donovan…” Vivian Decker, the dean of the English department, smiled at me as she walked toward the front of the room. “Do you have a moment? I know it’s poor timing.” She checked her watch as I finished hooking up my laptop to the overhead projector. “I should have emailed you, but you know how it is… busy, busy. I’m glad I caught you, though, before the deluge of students arrive.”

She held out her hand and I shook it, praying to whoever would listen she hadn’t seen the way my fingers trembled. Paranoia spiked my pulse as my gaze flicked back to the door. Parker was always early on Mondays.

“Vivian… it’s good to see you.” My voice sounded steady enough, if only I could get my smile to work. I cleared my throat. “With the evening classes, I don’t get to check in very often.”

She lowered her hand, her ice blue gaze skated around the room before landing back on me. “I’m afraid that’s one of the downsides of being an adjunct professor, but after this semester you won’t have to worry about that.”

“I won’t?”  My late lunch churned in my gut.

Did she somehow find out about Parker? Was she here to fire me? Jesus, fuck. She was here to fire me.

“I hope not.” She smiled again. That was a good sign, right? “I’m going to observe you tonight. I’ve received excellent feedback on your midterm review from your students, and it’s customary for new staff to have at least one or two of their classes audited, especially if we’re thinking of offering a full-time position.”

“I’m sorry, what? A full-time position?” I stammered, switching from worry to utter surprise. “Are you serious?”

Full time? I couldn’t afford to leave Lowe, and hadn’t I promised Anders I wouldn’t leave? What about Parker? Full time meant more hours on campus. No more evenings only. It meant more interaction with administration, and when Parker changed his major to creative writing next semester, it would all be too close, too risky. If they found out about our relationship, even if Parker was no longer my student, they’d fire me anyway. Or at least open an investigation as to when our relationship started. And I wasn’t going to ask him to hide any longer than I already had.

Shit, why was I even thinking about this?

Because teaching had always been something I wanted, and never thought I’d have a chance to do. Deep down, I knew I could make the salary work if I truly wanted it to, and the only reason I had to turn down the offer was about to walk in the door any second.

“It’s rare to have a professor with such high marks on their first survey, and…” She hesitated, her smile turning apologetic. “We’re losing two professors after the semester, and to be honest—”

“You’re desperate,” I said, but my smile didn’t fall.

“A little.” She cringed. “But I can assure you, you would have been one of our first candidates, in fact, I haven’t asked anyone else yet.”

“Vivian, I—”

The door opened, and Parker walked in, his wide smile, usually a breath of fresh air, had sweat breaking out across my forehead. He stopped abruptly as she turned to look over her shoulder, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Have a seat… Mr. Mills. We can go over your assignment in just a moment.”

The authority in my voice came out of nowhere, and I swear to God his lips twitched.

“Sure thing, Mr. Brody.” He gave me a lopsided smile, and my collar became a noose.

I pulled open the top button on my shirt as Vivian turned to face me again. Pushing a strand of her black hair behind her ear, she said, “I’ll take a seat in the back, but please, pretend like I’m not here.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered under my breath as she walked away.

She chose the very back row, but even once the room was filled with students, she wouldn’t be hard to miss. Parker waited until she was seated before he approached my desk with his notebook tucked under his arm. To make my life more miserable, he had on a black sweater that hugged every ridge of muscle in his arms and chest. His hair was damp, and I could smell his shampoo. He’d kept the sides trimmed short but hadn’t touched the length on top since we’d started dating. When I asked him about the change, he’d said it was because he liked the way I ran my fingers through it when he gave me head. And holy shit, I couldn’t think about that right now.

“Mr. Brody,” he said, his smooth voice, his cocky smile, there was nothing I could do to stop my cheeks from filling with that familiar shade of pink. “Who’s the chick?”

“That would be the dean of the English department,” I whispered, and his smile died. “Did you finish the paper?” I asked, this time loud enough anyone in the room could have heard.

“Um… shit.”

I heard her soft laugh, and Parker opened his notebook to a random page with equations and math notes.

“I think I want to change the ending,” he said, and I knew he was talking about his play. On the nights he stayed over, we’d work on it together, and sometimes on the nights Anne was there too. Sometimes she’d chime in with ideas, and I loved that he’d listened to her as intently as he would have if she were an adult. “Everyone pretty much has their roles nailed down, but I don’t want Silas to die.”

“He doesn’t die. Tink sacrifices herself so Pan can have his happily ever after.”

“I know, but… what if Pan saves Silas, instead.” His lips parted into one of my favorite smiles. It was the same smile he’d given me the first morning we’d woken up together, or whenever Anne told him some amazing fact about the weather, or when his best friend said something outlandish in class. It was one-hundred-percent real and unfiltered. “What if Pan sacrifices himself. Tink will still give up her magic and sacrifice her life, but it will be for both of them, which makes more sense anyway.”

“One last grand gesture to show Silas how much he loves him,” I said. Parker wet his lips, and God, I wanted to reach up and brush my thumb over the curve of his mouth. “I think that’s very romantic, Mr. Mills.”

“Maybe we can talk about it some more after class?” he asked as a couple of students walked in.

“I think that’s possible.” I lifted my head and noticed Vivian had her phone in her hand, her attention glued to the screen. “I have something I want to go over with you as well.”

“Oh?” Parker took a step toward me as another group of students walked in. “What’s that?”

His spiced soapy scent was thick in the heated air between us. My body reacted to him, not giving one single shit that the room had begun to fill with students, or that my boss was only a few rows away. Half hard, I took a step back and moved behind my desk.

“I’ll see you after class, Mr. Mills.”

He rapped his knuckles on the desk before making his way to his usual seat. I tried, unsuccessfully, to pretend Vivian wasn’t there as I pulled up my lesson on the laptop. A few minutes passed as I read over my notes and wiped down the whiteboard. When I turned around, the seat next to Parker was no longer empty. Marcos had shown up, and already had Parker laughing about something. I hadn’t had a chance to spend any time with Parker’s friend, and I thought maybe that was a shitty boyfriend thing to do. Anders and Ethan were having dinner with us tonight at my place, maybe I should invite Marcos too. I had a few minutes to spare before class started, plenty of time to shoot off a quick text.

Me: Do you think Marcos would want to have dinner with us tonight?

Parker: Are you sure?

Me: I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. I want to know your friends.

I pressed send and glanced up in time to catch his small smile.

Parker: He said sure.

Parker: He also said he’s not into threesomes.

Me: Did you actually ask him?

Parker: No. Not yet.

I coughed to cover my laugh, even though the room was buzzing with conversation.

Parker: But he’ll be there.

I set my phone on my desk and counted backward from ten. The class quieted down as I lifted my gaze and surveyed the room. Vivian watched me intently, but I gathered my nerves and pushed them aside.

“Should we get started.” And all eyes were on me. “The Colossus by Sylvia Plath…” I blinked, trying to remember what I was about to say, when Parker raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Mills.”

“It’s depressing,” he said, and the class laughed.

“Why is it depressing?” I asked, eager for his interpretation, hopefully Vivian Decker couldn’t see just how eager.

“I think she’s talking about herself,” he said.

“I think she’s talking about her father,” Lydia, one of my less-vocal students argued, and I leaned against my desk, thrilled she’d decided to engage in the discussion.

“I think it was her husband,” another student said.

I took a chance and gave Parker a soft smile. He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Maybe it’s about all of them. ‘The sun rises under the pillar of your tongue. My hours are married to shadow.’ Maybe she doesn’t feel seen. She talks about being put back together in the beginning. Maybe she thinks she can’t be whole because of all these things in her life that hover over her?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Poetry is unique, in that only the author will ever know it’s true meaning, yet we can try to reflect inside the words, see what we see in ourselves, make it what we want it to be. Lydia, however, is correct. The Colossus was written about Plath’s father after his death.”

I paced in front of my desk, asking students to tell me about their favorite lines from the poem, asking them to interpret them, to tell me what they loved, what they hated, did they even like it. And as time ticked by and the class neared its end, I forgot about Vivian, forgot about the full-time position I wasn’t sure I wanted. Parker gave me all of his secret smiles, and I tried not to blush a thousand times.

Marcos actually jumped into the conversation, too, but mostly had negative things to say about Plath’s work. “It was boring, I mean, what the hell is she even talking about? Was it about a farm? She lost me when she started talking about the barnyard.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Parker teased him, but he grinned anyway.

“Be nice, Parker.”

“I’m very nice, Mr. Brody.” Parker leaned back in his chair and stared at me with a smirk on his face that would make a nun blush.

Jesus Christ.

I lowered my eyes to my laptop, choosing to ignore him. It was the safest thing to do. “Now… for Wednesday’s assignment.” The sound of papers rustling made me smile as the students prepared to take notes. It was much better than the groaning I’d started off with in August. “I want you to write a six-stanza, free-verse poem about a person you know. It can be anyone. It doesn’t have to be a loved one. You can make assumptions about the barista at Starbucks if you like. As long as it’s six stanzas long, I’m happy.” The students started to put away their notebooks, and I raised my voice over the rising sound. “Also, your third book review is due before Thanksgiving break. That’s two weeks, people.”

I picked up my phone as everyone started to file out of the classroom and sent Parker a text.

Me: I’ll finish up here and meet you at my place.

Parker: I can wait.

Me: Probably better if you don’t.

Parker: Sure. See you later.

Vivian made her way toward the front of the room as I slipped my phone in my pocket and started to pack up my things. Parker turned to leave without meeting my eyes, and I assumed it was his way of being covert, but something about the look on his face gave me pause.

“Mr. Mills,” I called out. “If you could wait a minute… we can go over the play like we discussed.”

He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his bag and nodded. “Yeah, I can wait.”

“I won’t keep you,” Vivian said. “But I wanted to tell you, the job is yours if you want it. I’ll have my secretary send over the offer tomorrow.”

“That soon.”

“Don’t worry. You have time to think it over,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Parker passed her on her way out of the classroom. Once the door shut behind her, I relaxed.

“What job was she talking about?” he asked.

“She was here auditing the class. She wants me to take a full-time position.”

“Why don’t you sound thrilled?” Parker stared at me with the same unsettling look on his face from earlier. “Is that because of us… because of me?”

“No…” I lied and took his hand in mine. The room had emptied, leaving Parker and me alone. There wasn’t another class after this, lowering the chance that anyone would catch us. “A professor’s salary is nice, but not that nice. And who knows about benefits, and I only have a masters, I’d never get tenure. And maybe I want to look at other schools first.”

He gently squeezed my hand before letting it go. “Van, you love teaching, and this offer could be everything you’ve wanted.” No, that’s you. “Don’t leave Winchester for me.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t lie to me, professor.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Though, I do love a grand gesture, I don’t expect you to give up on something you’ve always wanted. We’ll figure it out. Stop thinking so hard. Look at the offer.”

“You’re bossy tonight.”

“I get that way when I’m starving.” He pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Look at the offer.”

“Yeah, okay. I will.” I grabbed my bag off the desk, and decided we needed a change in subject. I didn’t want to think about jobs and choices I didn’t want to make anymore. “Is Marcos actually going to come?”

“He is. I texted him your address. He said he wanted to run home and take a quick shower. By quick, he means he’ll be at least thirty-minutes late, and you should probably also know, he loves to overstay his welcome.”

“I’ll kick him out,” I said. “I have plans.”

“Are they sexy plans?”

“Perhaps.”

Parker laughed and reached for my hand but caught himself as I opened the classroom door. A few students lingered outside. He pushed his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and smiled. But again, there was something else, an undercurrent of disappointment he’d failed to hide, and despite what he’d said, it made me want to email Vivian first thing in the morning to decline her offer before she even had a chance to send it.