It was a lie, and he knew it. My body betrayed me every time he whispered dirty words in my ear, every time his palm delivered another smack, every time his fingers found my weaknesses. I succumbed to his game like a puppet, eager to have my strings pulled.
‘Hmm.’ He patted my thigh. ‘Think about it until our next meeting. Come. I’ll drive you home.’
‘I can take the bus. It’s not far.’
He put me on my feet and grabbed his coat, wrapping it around me. ‘I’m driving you home. Let’s go.’
Chapter Six
I was dropped off at home with strict instructions to spend the next week watching porn. It was, without a doubt, the most ludicrous homework any teacher had ever given me. I hadn’t watched porn in years. Who needed it when they had a hot lecturer to play with? But after a few days of reluctance, I gave in to the assignment.
It was an odd way to spend the holidays. I put on my favourite Christmas pyjamas, made popcorn, and started watching videos on his list until I fell asleep.
When my phone rang the next morning, I answered it without opening my eyes. ‘Hello?’
‘Happy Christmas, sweetheart,’ my mother chirped. ‘How’s… what’s that sound?’
Shit. I quickly muted the video. ‘I’m just, eh, it was an advert.’
‘An advert?’ She paused. ‘Are you with a boy? Are you in trouble?’
I almost burst out laughing. Maybe I was. Crushing so hard on my lecturer that I had forgotten what my parents raised me to be: the opposite of what Dr Braithwaite envisioned me as.
‘I’m not seeing anyone, Mum. I’m working on my dissertation.’
‘Yes, you insisted on staying at university this Christmas to focus on your coursework,’ she said in a terse tone, and just like that, the crushing guilt returned. ‘What’s his name?’
‘There’s no boy. It was research. I’m…’ I blinked at the woman on my laptop screen, who was getting fucked in both holes by two men, her face pinched in pain. Or was it pleasure? I quickly looked away. ‘I’m studying the effects of pornography.’
My mother went quiet. So quiet that I had to check she hadn’t hung up on me.
‘Mum?’
‘You expect me to believe the university gave you permission to watch pornography?’
‘It’s a valid study,’ I argued, but it was useless. My mother had married her high school sweetheart and never looked at another man again. Rarely looked at my father anymore, either. I’d found his porn collection as a teenager. My mother had grounded me for the rest of that summer.
‘This is what you’re getting into debt for?’ Her voice lowered to a harsh whisper, a warning that my father was within earshot. ‘This is what we’re paying your rent for?’
I slammed the laptop lid shut.
‘Maybe it would be better if you came home, Ophelia.’
My throat thickened. I tried to quash the guilt she wanted me to feel by focusing on Dr Braithwaite’s encouraging words. He didn’t let me feel ashamed.
‘It’s a valid study,’ I repeated, my voice weaker than I would’ve liked.
‘Ophelia…’ She sighed. ‘We need to discuss this in person.’
I rubbed my forehead. ‘I can’t come home now. I haven’t got the money for petrol.’
‘We gave you an extra fifty pounds earlier this month for?—’
‘I got a parking ticket.’ Which I still couldn’t afford to pay, so it would double by the time my student loan came in.
‘A parking ticket? Ophelia, this isn’t like you.’
‘Mum, I’m fine, but I can’t go home now. I need to get this research done.’
