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“Good morning, everyone.” I smiled. “I’m Miss Callahan, but you can call me Aubrey. I don’t believe in formalities at your age. We’re all adults here, right?” I grinned. “I call you by your first name, so you should call me by mine. Welcome to English Literature. As some of you may know, I am blind. For those of you who didn’t, surprise. I would like to introduce you to my teaching assistant, Gigi Graham. She will be in class every day with us, ensuring you are on your best behavior. I can promise you that by the time the school year ends, we will be like a family, and that’s something I take very seriously. Just to give you a little background information about me, I lost my parents in a horrible car accident when I was eight years old, the same accident that took my sight. I was angry, depressed, and felt like there was no hope for me like I’m sure some of you are feeling right at this very moment. But I fought back, I won, and here I am today, teaching you beautiful men and women all about English Literature. The point of this story is that no matter how bad life seems, you can and will conquer it, but you, and only you, have to put in the effort. Now.” I smiled. “The seats you are sitting in will be the seats you will sit in for the rest of the school year, and I will know if you decide to be funny and switch.”
The subtle laughs of the students filled the room.
“I don’t really have any rules. I just ask that you be respectful, not only to me or Gigi but also to your classmates. Feel free tobring in snacks or a drink, but be prepared to share with your teacher.” I smiled.
I repeated the same speech for the next five classes, and before I knew it, the first school day of the new year had come to an end. As I was putting my laptop in my bag, Ian walked into the room.
“How was your first day?” he asked.
“It was great. How was yours?”
“Good. I had some students excited to learn about history, and the rest just slept.”
I laughed.
Ian was hired as a teacher shortly after I was. He started as a substitute for one of the history teachers on maternity leave. She never came back, and the students really liked him, so the school offered him the job. We drove in together every day. He picked me up at my apartment in the morning and then drove me home after school.
“Have you heard from him yet?” Ian asked.
“No, and to be honest, I don’t think I will.” I threw my bag over my shoulder.
“It’s probably for the best, Aubrey. From what I hear, he’s bad news. You know my friend, Lance?”
“Yeah,” I spoke as I placed my hand on his elbow, and we walked to his car.
“He told me that his girlfriend, Amber, works at Ethan’s company, and he’s a total dick to everyone there. He’s rude, disrespectful to all his employees, and very demanding. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone. They call him The Iceman.”
I laughed lightly as I climbed into Ian’s Honda Accord.
“Why would they call him that?”
“Because he doesn’t show any emotion or feelings toward anyone. He’s as cold as ice. Amber also told him that Ethan has never been in a relationship, and he uses women for sex andthen drops them like a hot potato. Gee, maybe I shouldn’t have told you that last part.”
“It’s fine, Ian. You wouldn’t be my friend if you didn’t. Listen, I don’t expect to hear from him again, so don’t worry about me.”
“I guess the good thing is you had sex for the first time in forever.” He grabbed my hand and gently squeezed it.
“Yeah. At least I had that.” I softly smiled.
Ian dropped me off in front of my apartment building and headed home. I wouldn’t lie and say that our little conversation about Ethan Klein didn’t hurt a bit because it did. But this was something I had grown used to.
Ethan
“Lucy!” I shouted from my office. “Where the hell is that report I asked you to finish over an hour ago?!”
“Lucy isn’t at her desk, and you, my friend, need to calm the fuck down,” Charles spoke as he strolled into my office and took a seat across from me.
“Here’s your report, sir. I was in the storage room getting new ink for the printer.”
“I asked for this over an hour ago.” I grabbed it from her hands.
“I’m sorry, but I?—”
“I don’t want to hear your sorry-ass excuses. The next time I ask for something, you better fucking get it to me when I ask for it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. Is that all?”
“Yes. Get out of my office.”