eat and drink, every time she turned around. It was like a whole other world.
“I can call him if you want me to, Mom,” Maya agreed, just wanting to end the conversation.
“Good.” She sounded satisfied. “So how's school? Are you working hard? Getting good grades?”
Maya closed her eyes and her smile was grim. “Yep. Always do. I have to go, ok?”
“Don't you forget to call your father!”
“I won't,” Maya replied. “Bye.” She replaced the receiver and sat there for a moment, staring at it. She could look out the dorm room windows and see the cafeteria from here. She was going to be late for work.
She stared off into the distance, over the pond, where the ducks swam year round because everyone fed them and made them fat and lazy. Now, in the spring, they were in their prime, quacking loudly whenever anyone walked past, demanding attention. She could see someone feeding them now, squatting down by the edge.
Her mind wandered back to Jessica Sweet and Jake, and she longed to sit down at Jen's laptop and write the rest of the story. She wanted to escape into their world for a little while. Just a little while. Her mind drifted…
Jake pulled Jessica closer, his mouth slanting against hers, forcing her to open to him. She moaned as he pressed his thigh between hers, pinning her against the door. She lost herself in his embrace, as she always did, but finally came to her senses.
“Jake!” she gasped, shoving at his shoulders, but not feeling him move at all. “Your brother is going to be home in less than an hour. Do you want him to find you here?”
Maya sighed, shaking her head to clear it. Maybe Professor Reardon was right. Maybe she did just write “fairy stories” so she could escape the realities of her own life. She remembered that she had promised him that she would go by his office tomorrow.
She dreaded it, but she was also curious. What could he want? Probably to tell me I should forget about writing, drop out of college and just become a waitress like my mother. Maya shuddered at the thought, looking back out the window, realizing that the figure by the edge of the pond was her creative writing professor.
On a whim, she decided to go down there. Maybe he would tell her what he wanted.
“Hi.” Maya's voice made him jump and he turned to look at her, startled.
“Oh, hi, Maya.” He stood and pocketed something, brushing his hands off. “I come down here to think,” he said, as if she required some explanation.
“Oh, me, too.” She watched the ducks squabble in the water for the bread that he had been throwing in. “All the time. Great thinking spot.”
They stood there for a moment, and it should have been an awkward silence, but it wasn't. The pond was like glass, and the sun was just beginning to set, giving a fiery, orange tinge to it all. Maya found herself wanting to touch his hand again, and when he looked over at her, she wondered what he was thinking about.
“I saw you from my dorm.” Maya squatted down and held her hand out to one of the ducks. It came toward her, but edged away when it realized she didn't have food. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?” His voice didn't reveal anything. He was still in his professor role, a little distant.
“About fairy stories…” Maya stood and faced him. He was waiting, his eyes on hers. “When I was a little girl, my dad used to tell me a fairy story. It was about a little ugly duckling, who grew up to be the most beautiful swan.”
He smiled. “I'm familiar with that one.”
“Yeah.” She smiled back. “Most people are. Anyway… my dad left us when I was twelve and my brother was six, and life pretty much completely sucked after that. Nothing was ever the same. I hardly saw him when I was growing up. He was traveling a lot.”
“I'm sorry, Maya.” His voice was sad, full of sympathy, and when she looked at him, she saw that it was genuine.
“No, it's ok…” She put her hands in her jeans pockets and looked across the pond, watching a couple walking on the other side. “But what I wanted to tell you… I always remembered that story. How the little duckling grew up into something really spectacular.”
He touched her shoulder. It was a brief thing, but it held the same heat, the same connection, she had felt before. She didn't look at him. She was afraid to. “Sometimes I think we need fairy stories-romance, love, happy endings. Just to have something to hold onto, when our own lives seem so dark.”
They were quiet for a moment, both of them staring off into the distance.
“Anyway, that's all,” Maya said. “I have to get to work. I'm already late.” She turned to go, and she felt his hand again, this time on her wrist. She looked down at it, and then up at him, her breath caught.
He was smiling, his eyes full of something she didn't quite understand. “Thank you, Maya.”
She shrugged. “I'll see you tomorrow. Your office at two?”
“Yes.” He nodded, letting her go.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
“Professor Reardon?” Maya raised a hand to knock on his door when she heard voices inside. She took a seat on the chair outside and waited. It was a feminine voice she heard, along with the professor's.
Maya took out her notebook and started scribbling a few notes about her next story. She had gotten an idea last night at work, watching two freshman girls arguing at one of the cafeteria tables. It was crazy, sometimes, the things that inspired her.
She checked her watch. It was now quarter after two. He had said two, hadn't he? The voices inside were growing louder, and she could make out some of the words now.
“I don't care, James! You said this year!”
James? Was his first name James? For some reason, that thought made Maya feel slightly warm. She could hear him speaking, but his voice was lower than the woman's, so she couldn't make out anything.
“Goddamnit, why don't you quit this dead-end teaching gig, then?”
Maya stared at the door. Quit? Professor Reardon had been there for ten years. He was one of the most well- respected faculty on campus. His classes were almost impossible to get into-she had tried to get into creative writing her freshman year and hadn't made it.
Suddenly the door opened, and something sailed across the hall and hit the opposite wall. Maya ducked instinctively, even though it wasn't aimed at her. It was a book, she saw.
“You know you could make ten times what you do here, if you'd just write some more of that trash! Then maybe my alimony payments would improve!” A tall, dark haired woman stormed out of his office, her high heels clicking on the tile. She slammed the door shut behind her and the force of it shook the whole wall. She glanced down at Maya, who was staring at her, wide-eyed. “What, you didn't know that your dear professor was really Rebecca Winters?”
The woman sneered at her and then turned and stalked off down the hallway. Maya looked at the book on the floor and went to retrieve it, looking back over her shoulder at Professor Reardon's door. She was surprised that no one had even stuck their head out of their office to see what the commotion was.
The book was a paperback, and she recognized it immediately. She'd only read it a hundred times. “Sweet Ecstasy” by Rebecca Winters. It was one of her favorite writers. She carried it back to his office door, standing there for a moment, contemplating. Then she slipped it into her backpack and turned, going down the hallway to the bathroom.
She stood at the basin, her hands shaking as washed her face and took a drink with cupped palms. The cool water felt good, calming somehow. A thousand questions were running through her head. She didn't know what to do. She remembered her conversation out at the pond with him yesterday, and that decided her. She went back to his office door and knocked, softly.
“Come in.”
“Professor Reardon?” Maya poked her head into his office. He was sitting at his desk, his chair turned away
