Student Teacher

Chapter 7

Dick walked into the History office just as the fourth period bell was ringing. He had an hour-long study hall every Wednesday and Carolyn was usually marking papers; they’d gotten into the habit of spending the time together. Sometimes she’d work or he’d do some reading but usually they’d just talk. She was sitting there when he arrived.

“Hi, you have lunch yet?”

She shook her head as she wrote ‘C-' on some kid’s test. “Not yet, you want to go out and get something?”

“We can leave?”

“Sure, as long as we’re back in time for fifth period.”

They were out the door, as they climbed into her car he mentioned, “We don’t have much time.”

She shrugged. “C’mon, we have fifty-seven minutes. You a fussy eater?” He shook his head as she pulled out of the driveway and onto the quiet road and headed east to the mall, stopping just before the entrance at the local McDonald’s. “This okay?”

They went through drive-thru and ended up parked in a far corner of the lot in the shade of some big trees, windows opened for the fresh air and no other cars within fifty feet.

Dick dug into his fries and asked, “So why are we here? What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t say in school?”

“I’m that easy to read?” She sipped her soda. “Okay, it’s just what you think it is—we have to back off seeing each other. Thacker called me on the carpet yesterday and indirectly threatened me to stay away from you.” She said it matter-of-factly with almost no inflection.

“Fine, so we don’t see each other in school. No problem.” He knew it wouldn’t be this simple.

“Dick, c’mon, you know that won’t work. She was making noises about calling Bruce and that would mean a lawsuit and all the rest of it.” She squeezed his hand on the seat between them. “We have to put this on hold for a while.”

He shook his head, knowing what she was going to say and not wanting to hear it. “Carolyn, don’t say that.”

“Honey, it’s just for a few months and I hate it as much as you do.”

“But they don’t have any proof of anything; we haven’t done anything to get upset about.” He looked out the window for a moment. “I’ll talk to Bruce, he won’t do anything if I ask him not to.” That was a lie and they both knew it as soon as it was out of his mouth.

 

* * *
 

Bruce sat at his desk, the one on the fifty-seventh floor of Wayne Enterprises, wondering what to do. Clearly he had to put a stop to this, but how? According to the note he’d found from Dick to his teacher there was something going on, but it hadn’t progressed as far as he’d been worried about.

On the significant other hand, Dick was involved with one of his teachers.

The woman was violating her contract, was risking her job, her license and her teaching credentials, not to mention the very real possibility of a lawsuit and jail time; God knew there were any number of cases on the books involving teachers with underage students.

Mary Letourneau, Pam Smart, that blonde down in Florida whose name escaped him at the moment. They’d all served jail time for their affairs with underage students. Pam Smart was still in jail as far as he knew; though hers was an extreme case involving the added attraction of murdering her husband. Letourneau and her young lover eventually married after her release from prison and, the last he’d heard, they were living with their two children.

There’d been a teacher at his own high school, an attractive, mid-thirties woman who’d taught several of the advanced math classes. He remembered the scandal when she’d left her job, divorced her husband and ended up married to one of her students. They’d waited until he’d graduated, but it had still happened and God knew when it had started.

Was Dick this deeply involved with this young woman, this Carolyn Posner?

Of course the boy was flattered at being chosen, at being picked out but he knew better. The fact that he’d never said a word about any of this proved he knew it was wrong.

 

* * *
 

“I know, I understand but it’s still stupid—we haven’t done anything. Aren’t we allowed to even be friends?”

“Dick, please. You know better than that and it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re my student and you’re fifteen. If this were a college instead of a high school it might be different, but the reality is…”

“It’s bullshit.”

“Dick, please. You know that…”

“Sure, I know that if I was twenty instead of fifteen then it wouldn’t be an issue but I’m not a normal fifteen year old and anyone who’s ever met me knows that. I mean—Christ—I started working as a professional when I was three years old. I’ve been all over the world and there isn’t a single state in the US I haven’t been to. I watched my parents die and I think I’ve made a pretty damn good adjustment to everything. “ He slammed his hand down on Carolyn’s kitchen table, “I mean, c’mon!”

She moved over to him and put a calming hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be sixteen in a few months. And there’s no reason at all why we can’t still see each other in school.”

He’d stopped ranting and was, on the surface, back in control. “You’re saying we should forget about this until I’m legal or is this a kiss-off?” There was a kind of steely edge to his voice that made her pull back and she had the sudden realization that this young man was, indeed, no normal teenager. Though she didn’t know it, she’d just met Robin.

She pushed that stray lock of hair out of his face. “I’m saying that you’re mature and intelligent enough to recognize the realities of the situation. Right now this is, technically, illegal and you know it as well as I do. No matter what our feelings for one another may be, the simple fact is that you’re underage and that makes us being together a crime.” He knew this and didn’t interrupt. “You also know that if anyone decided to make an issue of it, I’d lose everything and you’d be dragged through the mud with me.” She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Neither of us wants that.” He shook his head in agreement. “All right then, we can see each other in school, you can still come to the History office on your free periods and in a few months we’ll see.”

“You’re taking the position that we’re guilty because you don’t want to deal with gossip. I’ve been dealing with that since I moved in with Bruce—you think I don’t know what people say and think about us? It never made me leave or him throw me out; it’s just garbage and if you ignore it it’ll go away as soon as a something comes along to shift the attention to someone else.” He stood up abruptly, the veneer of placation gone. “We’ll see? Yeah, right.” The door didn’t quite slam behind him.

 

* * *
 

Bruce was still uncertain how to handle this but he was going through his options, eliminating most of them and not liking the ones that were left. The first idea he threw out was having Batman have anything to do with this. Sure, it might work but there was no reason on earth the Batman, or any of the Justice League, would have any interest in something like this and would simply raise more questions than it solved.

That was a non-starter.

He could simply have a talk with the boy, which would imply that he’d been spying or violating his privacy. That then asked the question of how much privacy a minor could reasonably expect and would risk a breech in their sometimes rocky relationship.

The last and best option was that he could have a talk with the young lady involved but before he did that he wanted to have more than just circumstantial evidence, which she would likely deny.

Fine, that shouldn’t be too big a problem.

Decision made, he wasn’t happy about any of this. Bruce understood Dick’s point of view about this, or he thought he did. An intelligent and attractive older woman singled him out for special attention and, naturally he was flattered. Dick was a teenager; his hormones were kicking in and raging. He was also Robin and between the two personas he had probably had more on his plate than just about anyone his age and so when he was offered sympathy—no matter what form that sympathy took, it was only natural that he’d jump at the offer.

And there was something else that might have influenced him, now that Bruce really gave it thought. Dick lived in an entirely masculine household. Robin functioned in a largely all male environment and even the Titans only had Wonder Girl for variety. It was entirely possible that Dick craved contact with a woman, much as the thought made Bruce shake his head. When he’d been fifteen he’d already started his studies that led him to becoming Batman. Dick was barely nine when he put on Robin’s costume and had done so with much less anguish.

He was a completely different personality with different needs than Bruce.

Bruce could use women and chalk it up to hiding his Bat identity behind Bruce Wayne’s vapidity. Dick had no such need to justify time he wanted to spend with a woman.

It couldn’t be that simple, could it? It couldn’t be just, well, just sex. What was he thinking? Of course it could be just sex.

God, he was getting a headache.

 

* * *
 

Robin had just finished up the monthly meeting at Titans Tower, the others were all there and since they’d finished business the usual next thing would be to order in food and hang with a movie.

“Robbie, you joining us tonight or do you have to patrol with the Bat?” Donna knew something was on his mind. Unusual for him, he’d been distracted and even lost the thread of his thoughts twice while he was talking. She couldn’t remember a single time that had happened and she was worried; it was obvious that his mind was somewhere else.

“No, no patrol but don’t bother getting me anything, I’m not hungry.” He made a move towards the door leading to the private quarters. “’Thanks, anyway.”

After a few minutes Donna followed him to his room. “Dick, you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Just a little tired, that’s all. Tell you what, if you haven’t ordered, I really feel like some Chinese; maybe some Lo Mein and a couple of egg rolls?” He pulled his shirt off. “Think I’ll take a shower while I’m waiting, thanks, Donna.”

She knew him better than that. “So what’s really going on with you, chum? You’ve got something on your mind and have had for a while now—you and Bruce fighting again?”

He never could fool Donna. “…No, no fighting.”

“Then what is it? I don’t mean to pry but something’s got you tied up in knots—I’d like to help, if you’d let me. You’re one of my best friends and it’s not like you to let things get you down.”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Sure it is.” She wasn’t going to be fobbed off and a part of Dick was happy about that; he needed an impartial opinion and Donna was the best at that of anyone he knew.

He moved some books so she could sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve met someone and we’re sort of involved.”

This was news; Dick never seemed to have time for a girlfriend. “Is that good or bad?”

“A little of both—she’s a little older than I am and I’m technically still a minor.”

Donna knew immediately what that meant; a possible statutory rape case if anyone cared enough to make trouble. Barbara Gordon? It had to be her; Dick had been mooning after her for years. “What does Bruce say?”

“He hasn’t yet, but he will. The other problem is that she’s a teacher at my school; she’s one of my teachers.”

That was unexpected. “She cares about you, too?” Dick nodded. “Is she afraid for her job or a scandal?”

“Well of course she is and so she wants to put everything on hold until I’m at least of age.”

“That makes sense, you know it does.”

“But the thing is that we aren’t even sleeping together.” I mean, he blushed but went on. “We’re doing some other stuff but it’s not like that. And it’s more than that; we really like each other. We like being together and just hanging out. No one seems to believe that.”

Donna believed it; if Dick said it was true it was—it was that simple. “It still sounds like a reasonable thing, at least until your birthday. I also think you should talk to Bruce about it; you know he has to know about this.”

He nodded, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought himself, he was just postponing the inevitable.

“Dick, you must really care about her.”

He turned to her, wanting her to understand. “It’s that she’s—I mean, she’s…Bruce and Alfred are great but they’re not really—this sounds stupid—I know it does—but it—they—no one ever touches anyone at the Manor, y’know? No one ever tells me that I’m doing a good job or asks if I’m okay or need anything.” He stopped, looking to see if Donna understood what he meant and, of course, she did. “She makes me feel like I matter—not ‘Robin’ or ‘Bruce Wayne’s ward’, but me. I matter to someone.”

“Honey, you have to tell Bruce that.”

“He’ll tell me in ten different ways why I’m being an idiot.”

“Give him a chance—please? I think he might surprise you.” Mentally she crossed her fingers, hoping she was right.

TBC

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