Page 19 of Blurred Boundaries

The conflict sitting on his face is clear. I think he wants to say yes, but at the same time he’s already convincing himself that he shouldn’t.

“We’re on break now.” I try to keep my voice steady even though I don’t feel steady at all. “You’re not teaching me until next semester. Why can’t we be together now?”

His jaw clenches a little at that. “And then what? Just stop seeing each other when classes resume? Do you really think that’s the better option?”

“I don’t know, okay?” I snap before I can stop myself, frustration bubbling in my chest. “All I know is that I want you. You’ve taken over my mind completely. I can’t do anything without thinking of you.” I pause, because it’s all starting to come out now whether I want it to or not. “And I’ve kept it all inside so I can still spend time with you without you bolting on me. And . . . ” I swallow, my throat tight.

“Taj, I feel that way too,” he confesses. His voice is different now, almost breaking. “But you know why this is such a bad idea. I’m your teacher. That makes you off limits to me.” He exhales slowly. “You don’t have the faintest idea how hard this is for me, finally feeling the spark I’ve been waiting for since my engagement ended, only to not be able to do anything about it.”

That hits me square in the chest. It’s another confirmation that we’re feeling the same thing. I’ve had a lot of sex for my age, enough to know what I like and what I don’t. It’s never felt like this before. I’ve never connected with any of the men, never wanted them so much that I could feel it in my heart.

I lean into him, forgetting we’re still in public. “Come with me.”

He steps back, letting go my hand. “I’m sorry, Taj. There are just too many things at stake for me. Not just here, but also where I work back home. And I don’t want anything that could blow back on you if this gets out. You have a great future ahead of you, and I won’t be the reason people start doubting everything you’ve worked for.”

It takes effort just to nod, and I try to ignore the sting behind my eyes. We start walking again. The silence stays with us all the way to where I’m parked, and it continues as I drive him home.

When we get to his address, he reaches for the door but pauses before getting out. “Thanks, Taj. For all the tours.” He hesitates, and I can see it on his face before he even says it. “But I don’t think we should keep doing this.” His voice catches at the end.

I want to argue. I want to tell him he’s wrong, or that we can figure it out, or that it doesn’t have to end like this. But I can’t find the words, so I just nod. He gets out of the car. I stay where I am, watching as he closes the door and walks away, taking half of my heart with him.

12

TAJ

—Boys Don’t Cry

by Mikolas Josef

I fight back tears my entire drive back home.

It doesn’t really work; the more I try to stop them, the more my eyes sting. And then I get annoyed at myself for even feeling like this in the first place. It’s ridiculous, I know. I knew from the beginning that there was a time limit to our days together, that he may never cave. But knowing it and actually experiencing it are two very different things.

I’m spending Christmas and the New Year’s at my parents’ in Brno. Maybe the distance will help. Maybe a few weeks away will be enough to sort my head out, to get it in the right space so I can face him when school resumes.

When I get home, I’m still in a foul mood. I take a shower, standing under the water longer than I need to, trying to wash away my sullen mood … it doesn’t. When I step out of the shower and pull on a pair of shorts, I find myself chasing after a different type of warmth, something the heater in my room can’t provide.

I lie down in bed, alone, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep my thoughts from spiralling. When my phone rings, I snatch it from my bedside, thinking it’s Mike. But I got my hopes up for nothing. Instead, it’s Daniel’s name on the screen.

“Yo, Taj,” he greets as his face appears on the screen.

“Yo yourself,” I reply.

“You good?” he asks immediately.

Daniel has always been perceptive, and he has the benefit of being the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother. We weren’t just raised together—with the fourteen years between us, he also watched me grow up. Sometimes that baby face of his can be deceiving and his insightfulness still catches me off guard.

“I’ll be fine. Where are you?”

“London. Paulie is angry I couldn’t come see him when he was in Prague, so I flew in once I had the time.”

“That’s not what I said,” Paul’s voice calls out in the background. A second later, Daniel turns the camera, and Paul comes into view, scowling. “Get that out of my face, you heathen.”

I chuckle at that. From all the stories Daniel has told me, teasing Paul has always been his favourite pastime. And there’s Paul reacting with the same I’m-barely-tolerating-you grumbling that I remember from the first time I met him, especially regarding Daniel. If they asked me, I’d tell them to just kiss and get it over with. There’s something there, even if they both act like it’s purely mutual annoyance. Or maybe, it’s just me seeing patterns where I want them to exist. Maybe, my brain is just a mess right now.

Daniel turns the camera back to himself. “We’re having a joint birthday party for myself and Paulie next summer. Start preparing,” he says.

“We are not,” Paul snaps from somewhere off camera.