Student Teacher

Chapter 2

So, there it was. Carolyn admitted it; the Grayson kid was taking up a lot more of her thoughts than anyone would consider healthy, especially when you added in the fact that he was fifteen or sixteen and she was a teacher in her twenties. She was his teacher. He’d never given her a single reason to believe that he thought of her at all outside of class, let alone in that way. None.

If he had she would have…she’d have to…she’d be legally bound to…smack him down, give him a verbal cold shower, nip it in the bud. End it before it got started. Talk to the school shrink to make sure she didn’t scare the little guy, traumatize him and mess him up for relationships forever. There was no choice; this was a non-starter, a no-brainer.

Then she started mulling over what his kind of father, his guardian, the very high powered and incredibly well-connected Mr. Bruce Wayne, richest man in the known universe would do if he found out that one of his kid’s teachers had the hots for his little boy. After the lawsuits settled it would get really ugly—that’s after People, the Gotham Gazette, the New York Times and Newsweek finished with her, after her own parents disowned her, after she was fired; and that didn’t even begin to address the whole civil suit.

Jesus.

Stop this. Stop it now before anything happened, before anything got started or the kid even knew what she’d been thinking.

She got out of bed and went over to her small desk, opened her laptop and typed ‘Richard Grayson’ into Google search. She got over eight hundred hits come up, most of them newspaper or magazine articles from when his parents were killed and accounts of the trial along with his being taken in by Wayne. She read enough to know where he’d come from, what he’d been through the last few years and how he came to be where he was.

God, the poor thing—orphaned, his parents murdered in front of his eyes when he was eight years old. And he came from a circus background; that would explain why he was comfortable in front of the class and lacked any kind of shyness, why he seemed so self-confident. If he’d been a child performer he’d have to have been sure of himself to do his job.

She looked at some more sites.

There were some pictures of him in costumes, of him on a trapeze and some old posters and ads for the circus they’d traveled with featuring the Flying Graysons. She also noticed that there weren’t any articles about him—at least ones he’d participated in or cooperated with after he moved into Wayne Manor. Evidently there was some kind of news blackout so he could be left alone and she nodded in silent agreement with old Bruce, happy that someone seemed to care about the boy.

She printed out that one candid of him taken on some tropical vacation last year; Dick was walking out of the water with a reflexive smile on his face, but under that looked a cross between slightly startled and annoyed at finding a photographer waiting for him. Water dripping off him, low-slung bathing suit, wet hair and the build of a young professional athlete.

He was beautiful.

But it was late and she had to be up early for work in the morning.

She lay back down and tried to go back to sleep but it wasn’t going to happen, not right now anyway. She closed her eyes but she kept seeing those damn blue eyes and those damn shoulders and the way his tee shirt draped down his back and across his chest and how his jeans fit both front and back…

Giving up, she went into the bathroom to find a sleeping pill. Tomorrow the kids were supposed to meet with her privately, one at a time to discuss their big semester projects and she’d scheduled Dick for the last slot of the day, fifteen minutes before the end of the day bell. She’d already planned what she was going to do, now if she didn’t lose her nerve she could start to lay the beginnings of a friendship.

She’d let him see that she wasn’t Miss Bitch; that she was really very nice and funny and smart and all that good stuff. And the things she could teach him…Oh stop it! He was a kid, a baby and she knew better than this.

Lying back down, she started to drift off, determined not to have another dream about well built kids with blue eyes.

 

* * *
 

“How are classes going this year? Everything all right?” Bruce Wayne sipped his coffee, looked over the top of his Wall Street Journal and waited for Dick to wake up enough to answer. He wasn’t a morning person, never had been as long he’d lived in the Manor and probably never would be. Understandable, of course, all things considered, but still, the kid needed to learn how to function.

“Um, yeah. Good.” Dick took a long swallow of his own coffee He knew Bruce didn’t approve, but it was the only thing that got his eyes opened after a late night on patrol.

“I was thinking I may go to Back to School Night tomorrow. Thoughts?”

Dick looked horrified. “You’re joking, right?” Bruce Wayne sitting through the usual smoke blowing the school always laid on to snow the parents at the beginning of every school year? God, the teachers always sucked up, the other parents always deferred and the administrators always tried to find a way to get him to finance the new science wing or something.

Then Dick would get the fallout and comments the next day from everyone. God, talk about embarrassing. “Seriously, don’t.”

“It’s not that bad and I’m curious. You know I like to know what’s going on with you in school. In fact, I’m sort of looking forward to it.”

“…I’ll make Honor Roll again, I’m not joining any sports teams because of the time commitment, but I may join the Chess Club and I was thinking about signing up for the Ski Club. My teachers are all fine and I’m sure it will be an interesting and productive year—okay? Please don’t go.”

“Dick, you know as well as I do that someone has to go or the school gets concerned about you being ignored or are afraid that there’s a lack of home involvement.”

Oh God… "Send Alfred. You know the school loves him. C’mon, Bruce—please? If you go you know the principal will twist your arm for another donation and all the divorced mothers will invite you to dinner.”

Bruce considered a moment and relented, “Fine, if Alfred is willing to go, that’s all right with me but I’ll ask him for a complete report when he gets home. Will that be acceptable to you?”

The boy nodded. “I have to go, it’s almost seven-thirty. I’ll see you later.” It was the best Dick was going to get and he knew it but better the butler than the Master. Maybe he could get Alf to not wear his uniform? It didn’t matter, after all these years; it still made him feel funny to have people think he was to the Manor born.

 

* * *
 

Later that day, at quarter to three, Dick knocked lightly on the door to Miss Posner’s cubby office. He pushed in when he heard her ‘Come in’ and ‘Right on time, good. Please sit down.’

It was a tiny space and he had to maneuver his knees to avoid pressing against her leg. “So what have you decided to write you paper on?”

“I thought it might be interesting to write an alternative history of the end of the Civil War; what might have happened if the South won at Gettysburg.”

Carolyn wondered if he was serious; the assignment was to analyze the effects of some aspect of the growth of the nation in the mid to late nineteenth century and he wanted to write science fiction? “How would you present something like that?”

“I was thinking that if I looked at everything that led up to the South’s loss there and then looked at the consequences afterwards…” His voice went on telling her his idea but she found herself staring at the way his lips were moving and how occasionally his tongue came barely out to lick his lips as they got dry from his talk. She noticed how his arm was resting on the edge of her desk, how she could see the play of his muscles as he moved and shifted in his seat. She was fascinated by how he moved his hands to emphasis what he was saying and how a lock of his hair kept falling over his left eye, drawing even more attention to the amazing blue color. She liked that he needed a haircut and that his jeans weren’t designer but regular Levi’s and a little worn.

“…So I thought it might be interesting. Okay?”

She looked him full in the face, coming back to what they were supposed to be there to discuss. “Yes, I think it has potential but I’d suggest that we meet as you’re working to make sure that you’re not veering too far into Rod Serlingland.”

“Sure. So it’s approved?”

She nodded as the bell rang. “I was wondering, is anyone coming to Back to School Night from your family?”

“I’m not sure, maybe. A family friend might make it. Why?”

“Just wondering, no real reason.”

Dick gave her a hard look—another babe looking to hook up with Bruce. Figured.

“In fact I was hoping to meet your guardian. I was doing some checking and, to be honest, you’ve impressed me, Dick. I don’t want to bring up anything you’d rather keep private but you’ve been a standout student since you arrived at the Academy and with your unusual background that’s quite something.” She paused as he blushed slightly and lowered his eyes in embarrassment, something she found adorable. “I’ve been watching you in class and you’re the best student I’ve ever had, the other teachers agree and I just wanted to let you know that if you have any problems or even just want to talk, I’m always here.”

Dick was a little confused and felt flatfooted by this. Miss Posner was coming on to him? It sure sounded like it and that was just way too weird. Nah, that was stupid. She was probably just sucking up to him as a way to get through to Bruce. Of course, that happened all the time. “Thanks.”

“In fact, the more I think about it the more I think this project of yours really sounds like it has potential for being outstanding and I’d like to keep an eye on how you’re doing with it, if you don’t mind.”

“That would be great.” Like he had a choice.

“And, I know this is a little out of left field, but you were raised in a circus, weren’t you?” He nodded—that wasn’t any secret, in fact he was taunted as ‘Circus Boy’ when he first arrived at the school. “Well, I’ve always loved going to the circus—and I understand if you’d rather not, like if you thought it would be awkward, but Ringling Brothers is in town at the Gotham Arena this weekend and my brother gave me two tickets he bought and can’t use. Since you know so much about them, I was hoping you’d do me a big favor by coming with me as someone in the know.”

“I…”

“My treat, I thought it might be fun.” She saw his hesitation. “Of course if you’d rather not…”

“No, it’s not that, it just that I’m sort of performing with them this weekend. I mean, their flyers are old family friends and whenever they’re in the area they let me join their act for a few performances. Thank you, but sorry.” He shrugged an apology, happy that he had a ready made excuse and wondering what the deal was here. Was she really asking him out on a date or was this just another ‘poor orphan, gotta be nice to him’ thing? It was always a good bet that she was trying to use him to get to know Bruce, but that never worked. And the odds that she was actually interested in him? Yeah, right—somewhere between zilch and zero. He was fifteen and she was like ten years older than he was; this was a non-starter.

Ah hell, maybe she was just being nice.

She gave him this knockout smile. “That’s all right, it was a longshot anyway so don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, all right?” He got up the same time she did, picking up his backpack as she reached for her purse and her briefcase full of papers to be graded. “Walk me out?”

He took the briefcase from her, carrying it as they made their way to the parking lot and wasn’t all that surprised when her fingers accidentally brushed the back of his hand as he gave it back to her. It was more than just a brush, it seemed to linger a few seconds before she gently turned his over and looked at the palm. “Your hands are callused. They’re strong.”

“Flying and gymnastics—they’re hard on your hands. My mother used to complain about it.”

“Do you?”

“Complain? No, I always liked having calluses—when I was younger I thought of them as badges of honor or something.”

“You earned them.” She smiled at him again and paused, “Do you need a ride home?”

He looked around; the school van had left without him since he was late talking with Miss Posner. “I can call.”

“No need for that, I don’t live that far from Wayne Manor; it’s practically on my way.” Another smile. “Get in.”

He did as he was told.

 

* * *
 

Bruce was eating his dinner alone this evening and he wasn’t quite sure why. “Alfred, where’s Dick tonight?”

“He’s attending the circus, he mentioned it this afternoon, I apologize for forgetting to mention it, sir.”

“’Seeing some old friends? That’s fine, probably good for him.” He shook his head when offered a refill for his wineglass.

“I suppose. He said that he’d been asked to join another trapeze act that he’s acquainted with the members of. They’ve invited him to perform with them this weekend for several shows.” The lack of enthusiasm was obvious.

“Alfred?”

“Forgive me, sir but while I appreciate that the young master enjoys seeing his old friends and reliving his younger years, I wish he could leave the past in the past.”

Bruce placed his napkin beside his plate, indicating he was finished with his meal. “His heritage is important to him, as it should be. I don’t see any harm in him doing this a few times a year.”

“I suppose. He also mentioned that he might stay late talking and catching up with these folks.”

“Just so long as he isn’t late for school.” Bruce stood and stretched a little. “You’re going to the school tonight?”

Alfred placed the dirty dishes on a tray. “Yes, indeed I am. I look forward to meeting his instructors and seeing what the school year has in store for the lad.”

“Good; I’ll want a full report when you get back.”

“And you shall have one, sir.”

 

* * *
 

Carolyn hung up the phone. She’d ordered a premium ticket to the circus for Saturday evening’s performance then got her digital camera to make sure it was fully charged and the zoom lens was working.

TBC
 

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