I wrapped my fingers into fists. "I am not your ex-boyfriend, Libby. You need to get that straight. We made a mistake. I was a new professor and you were a wild freshman. Just because we slept together a few times does not mean we had a relationship. It was a mistake, and it's time you let it go."
"Let it go? I remember you really let go on the floor of your apartment. We couldn't even make it to the bedroom. So hot."
I stepped back before she could reach for me. "I was drinking too much back then and I'm not proud of what I did."
"Lots of professors would be proud to have such a hot, steamy, insatiable affair with a student like me."
My heart hammered as I looked to see if Clarity had overheard. She was preoccupied with an approaching group of partiers, clearly on their way to the frat house.
Libby followed my glance and her voice was sharp with jealousy. "You at it again, professor? Seriously? You know her father is the dean of students, right? Oh, it is going to be too fun to tell him what I saw."
I forced myself to unwind my fists and take a deep breath. "Go ahead, Libby. I'm not going to let you blackmail or bully me. I'll tell the dean the truth myself."
"And what about pretty Ms. Clarity over there? Are you going to tell her how you had me over and over again?" Libby's narrow eyes were mean.
"Of course I'm going to tell her. She deserves the truth." My throat constricted but I forced the words out anyway. "I'll tell her right now."
Libby tossed her bleached-blonde ponytail and jogged over to Clarity before I could stop her. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"What secret?" Clarity asked. Her wide eyes shone wet under the lamppost. "It was an accident, a mistake."
"Yeah, I guess that's what some people call it," Libby's giggle was brittle. "Sometimes people try to cover up the truth by calling it a mistake."
"Libby, please, you don't understand," Clarity said.
"Oh, no, I totally get it. Trust me I get it."
"Enough, Libby," I said.
She brushed her pointer finger across my lips. "Shhh, professor, don't worry about it. As a favor to you, I'll keep your dirty little mistake a secret. You never know when I might need one or the other of you to do me a solid in return."
"That's not how this works—"
"Thank you, Libby," Clarity interrupted. "She's had run-ins with the Honor Council and my father before. She knows what he can be like."
Libby raised a dark eyebrow. "And just imagine what he'd say when it's his own daughter. Don't worry, I'll keep quiet. For now."
She ran off before I could stop her. The vacuum of her interruption left Clarity and I alone on the sidewalk.
Clarity did not meet my eye. She shivered in the cool air and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist. Then she watched as the group of revelers approached. They sang and danced and stumbled their way down the sidewalk, and when they were close enough, we could hear the Landsman College fight song.
She stepped off the sidewalk, her high heels sinking into the grass, and I reached out an arm to steady her. Our eyes clashed and I felt the worry in her look chill me to the bone.
I didn't care about the rules. To me, the honor code was an administrative safety net that kept the school from lawsuits. What killed me was the thought of overstepping Clarity's personal boundaries.
It didn't matter that she had reciprocated the kiss, that she had wrapped her arm around me and not hesitated either. Any sign of regret would kill me.
Despite the rowdy students on the path, we stared at each other in silence. I felt her probing for my intentions, so I squeezed her arm gently. I had no regrets, only longing for more.
When the cheering crowd faded into the distance, Clarity clutched my sleeve. "I'm so sorry, Ford, I don't want you to get in trouble. I'll tell my father I did it. It was all my fault. A silly schoolgirl crush."
I shook my head. "He won't believe you. You've never done a silly thing in your life. I should have had more self-control."
Clarity shivered again, and this time I insisted she wear my tuxedo jacket. She shrugged into it and started slowly down the sidewalk. Then she stopped and gave me another pained look. "I can't believe Libby would be so quick to tell the Honor Council. Why was she so unreasonable? What did you say to calm her down?"
I resisted the urge to cup her cheek. "If you want to tell the Honor Council, I completely understand, Clarity. I won't keep you from telling the truth."
Her emerald eyes flashed and she started walking again fast. "The truth. The truth is we're two consenting adults, and so what if there's an age difference. None of this would matter if we were on a normal street corner in a real city, not on the suffocating grounds of Landsman."
Sweet relief washed over me and I had to stop. I caught Clarity's arm again. She swung back to face me and I took a deep breath. I needed to tell her the truth about Libby. I needed her to know there was a difference between the drunken, foolhardy mistake I had made as an angry first-year professor, and the moment we had just shared.
Clarity stamped her heel against the sidewalk. "I can't stand when people are hypocrites. For a second there I thought Libby was going to pretend that everyone on campus hasn't heard the rumors about her."
"What rumors?" I choked.
"She seduced some poor sap of a professor when she was a freshman, then bragged all around campus that they were in love. No one ever saw her imaginary boyfriend. No one believes it was anything more than her trying to prove her worth through sex." Clarity spun and walked towards her father's house.
"Don't you feel bad for her?" I asked.
Clarity shook her head. "I feel bad for the professor dumb enough to fall for her cheap seduction. That's where the honor code is important. It's supposed to stop less discerning people from making stupid mistakes."
I reached out but let her keep walking. I had held on to my shame for two years, but I had never gotten angry at myself until that moment. Sure, I was stinging from being discredited as a journalist, and I was self-medicating my frustration with too much alcohol, but I had never heard it wrapped up so succinctly. I had been stupid and fallen for something cheap and meaningless.
Clarity slowed and our steps fell into sync. "You don't think I'm stupid and undiscerning, do you?" she asked.
My head was reeling. "I think you're probably a lot smarter than me." It was on the tip of my tongue to confess my terrible mistake, but her sweet smile made me swallow hard. "And I think you shouldn't compromise any of that ever again."
She nodded and looked down to shuffle her feet. "I know. It won't happen again. I understand that I'm just your student and there won't be anything more between us. Besides," she brushed a hand over her nose and sniffed, "the women you date are probably a lot more interesting than me."
I shook my head. "Clarity, I'm not seeing anyone right now. I know men are supposed to juggle half a dozen women a week, but that's not me."
"This isn't me, either. I don't go around lying to security guards and kissing people under campus trees. Can we just blame it on the full moon and forget about it?"