#this is the one i said is being retooled from dagmar so it's a lot of those characters from before

[novemberthewriter]

excerpt time

sharing writing for the first time in god knows how long

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When the Journey of Life brings Mr. Mac to your and Z’s home a decade later—when he’s at your dinner nook loose with drink—when you ask him, frank and in front of Z, if he really wanted you and her way back then—

Mac fixes you with grey eyes, licks scotch from his lips, and says things that send fire up your spine.

-

It took a great deal of strength to keep things professional, he tells you both some time later in bed.

That silly fake-deep mask on, you say, breathy, remembering so many conversations and detentions and private tutoring sessions he hosted just for you (his worst student; the bad boy with a diploma in Self-Interest) and Z (his best student; your genius girlfriend; a bona-fide good girl whose only crimes were being Black in a white school and wanting Mac just as much as you did), when all you were was a pervert who wanted inside our young teen minds and bodies.

He goes rigid between the two of you; you ignore him and crane your neck to say to an out-cold Z on his other side, I can’t believe you’re sleeping through this—

Is it so hard to believe I could fall in love?

There's love, and there's power. You're shivering with it. It’s hard to believe you, as a history teacher, could’ve forgotten all the consequences of something like this.