Illusions

6- rendezvous.

For as long as is humanly possible, I try to use Rob as a distraction, and for the most part he's a good one because I have so many thoughts and feelings surrounding him.

Unlike the first time I met Rob at the fountain, I try to look my best for our second meeting. Given that last night and at school today I barely wore any makeup and was either wearing my pajamas or uniform, I definitely think that this will be a good opportunity to surprise him.

I don't want him to look at me as an inferior just because I'm technically a student.  I'm a fully functioning adult just as he is. It's just that...having someone in this new life who understands what I'm going through is invaluable. Part of me does feel guilty, though, that he is my teacher. Is it wrong? Should I be feeling this way towards him?

    After thirty minutes of agonizing indecision, I settle on  black skinny jeans, matching black boots, and a white, long-sleeve, lace top. I curl my hair so that dark, long curls frame my face. In terms of makeup I just use mascara and a touch of lip gloss.

    Not wanting to take the chance that Dara asks too many questions and tries to stop me, I just pull open my window and go out the same way as last night.

    When I reach the fountain, I find that Rob's not there yet, so I take the opportunity to set up-not that there's a whole lot to set up. I just pull out my little pocket notebook and position myself so that I'm leaning against the trunk of a tree with my legs flat out on the ground in front of me. I smile when I realize it's golden hour, because my dad always called it the magic hour-the hour when anything can happen.

    I only have to wait for about five minutes before he comes strolling up, a wary expression on his face as his eyes flit back and forth.

    "Don't worry," I say sarcastically. "No one from school is here to see that the teacher is meeting with the student."

    "It's not like that."

    "Sure." With a heavy sigh he sits down cross-legged so he's facing me, and brushes his hand across his lips in thought. "This is a very strange situation . . . you realize that, don't you?" With thickly dark brows furrowed together, Rob fixes me with a sharp look, to which I feel under obligation to nod in agreement. "I can't help feeling rather cornered here. I came to the school because I wanted to help people . . . be there for them the way no one was for me," He was looking vacantly at the ground as he spoke, and I got the feeling he wasn't talking to me anymore. "I wanted to show them that life was something to be enjoyed and seized so that you become the fullest you that you can be." He stops himself and breaks his gaze with the ground to look back at me. "You've asked for my help, and so here I am."

Something in those words make me pause, a feeling like indignation festering beneath the surface even though I know in one part of my mind that it's misplaced. "What, so I'm just a charity case? You feel sorry for me, is that it?"

"No, that's not it- maybe a small part, naturally, but-"

"As if I'm the only one who needs help? You have no problems?" As I snap back at him, my mind clicks, and I know that's exactly what's been bothering me. My stupid pride.

I expect for Rob to get angry and shout at me or just leave altogether, but he surprisingly does neither. "We're both human. But I've been through this before. I may be able to give you the...advice that I never got." Rob speaks without anger, but firmly nonetheless. It feels eerily like he's a generation older than me- I've never heard anyone my age speak with such maturity and restraint.

"I'm sorry. I do need your...advice." I emphasize the word he politely used instead of help, and we share a brief grin before I press my lips together and prepare myself to tell him the truth. "You see, the thing is, I can't help feeling like I'm responsible for my parents. Like I should have done something to save them...but I didn't." It isn't a thought I had consciously articulated before now, but I realize that my nightmares have been stemming from underlying guilt.

He sighs and pauses a moment before taking my hand between his and saying softly, "I'm sorry about your parents, Aurora. Really, I am. But I don't believe it. I don't believe that it's your fault, and you shouldn't either. Blaming yourself does nothing for you or your parents. Beating yourself up is not going to bring them back."    

I nod and look down grimly. "I know. I guess I just have to convince myself." Lie. I know it's my fault- if he knew how they died, he'd think the same thing.