Yes, I said the last part with a hint of cynicism, but it couldn’t be helped. I was wounded and needed to reassert myself. Stu stared at his desk then brought his dark gaze to mine, scratching his head self-consciously. A pang hit me right in the chest and I instantly felt bad for putting him on the spot. Of course he hadn’t read it. It was a four-hundred-page book and he had difficulty with reading and writing. I was an awful person.

“Yes, I, uh, I did, actually,” he said, surprising the hell out of me. So much so my mouth fell open, my disbelief written all over my face.

“You did?” I asked.

He ducked his head, his voice going quiet. “Took me longer than most, I’m sure, but Lee’s been helping me with my reading.”

My heart pounded, because even though I was still angry with him, the idea of him going out of his way to read the book, to get help from his brother, was just too admirable. Why couldn’t he be horrible and let me enjoy hating him for a while?

“And did you enjoy it?” I went on, trying not to let my voice convey how touched I was.

“I’m not sure if ‘enjoy’ is the right word, Miss Anderson, but I definitely felt like it made me see things differently. Guess I could relate to the whole being dirt-poor thing. Actually, there was a lot I could relate to.”

“Really?” I went on, curious. “What else?”

Stu glanced around the room, then shot me a look as if to ask, why aren’t you asking anybody else questions? The answer was rather simple, really. I wasn’t asking anyone else, because in spite of all the reasons he shouldn’t, Stu fascinated me.

“You have the whole Christminster thing. That’s supposed to be Oxford or Cambridge or something, right?”

I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

“Well, I feel like to Jude, Christminster represents everything that’s good. It’s his goal to get there and become a student, but he’s so far away from it, it almost feels impossible. I think we all have a Christminster, this thing we want more than anything else, and it’s what keeps us moving forward. If we didn’t have that, a goal, a dream, there’d be no point to keep going. Because who wants to work their fingers to the bone for minimum wage day in and day out without something to look forward to? If we knew for definite that we weren’t going to get to Christminster, then we’d all just give up.”

I stared at him, taken aback by his words and how deeply he’d thought about this. And considering the difficulty Stu had with this area of his learning, what he’d just come out with felt like a real breakthrough. I smiled at him, my disgruntlement momentarily forgotten. As a teacher, these were the sorts of moments I lived for.

“You’re right. That’s a fantastic point, Stu,” I said and turned to the rest of the class. “Now, would anyone else like to contribute?”

For the rest of the day Stu didn’t approach me. He didn’t stick around at lunch and he didn’t try to provoke me in class. In fact, he was acting like he genuinely wanted to be there, and I wondered if his continued attendance had something to do with the robbery. But then, how could it?

I was busy correcting papers when the final bell of the day rang and everybody started getting up to leave. After a few minutes the room fell quiet and I thought they’d all gone, which was the reason I let out a startled yelp when Stu suddenly spoke.

“Andrea.”

“For crying out loud, Stu,” I said, clutching my hand to my chest. “You frightened the life out of me.”

His lips twitched and it looked like he was trying to hold in his laughter. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. What do you need?”

Now his expression grew serious. “I wanted to talk.”

“About?”

“About us.”

I swallowed, returning my attention to the papers I was correcting. I made sure to put as much dismissal into my voice as possible. “There is no us, Stu.”

“That’s bullshit, Andrea.”

I blinked at him. “I think you’ll find it isn’t. And don’t talk to me like that. I’m your teacher.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re bothered. Susan swears in class all the time and you never give her stick for it.”

“It’s the spirit in which it’s done, Stu. When Susan swears it’s good-natured. When you swear it’s aggressive.”

“That’s only because you frustrate me.”

At this I slammed my hand down on the desk. “I frustrate you? That’s a laugh. You’re the most frustrating person I know.”

“For God’s sake, what do you want from me? I told you I’m sorry. I even read that bloody book for you even though it took me forever. I’m really trying here.”

“That’s what I don’t get. Why are you trying? Why are you even still attending class? You said yourself the only reason you enrolled in the first place was to get to me to get to Alfie. Well, mission accomplished. Your presence is no longer necessary.”

His expression wavered ever so slightly, almost like my words hit a sore spot, and I instantly wanted to take them back. But I couldn’t. I had to stand my ground, show him I wasn’t a pushover.

Stu stepped closer, leaning forward to take the pen from my hand and shove the papers out of the way. “You talk like I came up with all this on my own and I didn’t. I was put up to it. If it were down to me I never would’ve used you like I did.”

His features were etched with regret, and yet there it was—the truth. He’d used me. He’d probably only read Jude to alleviate his guilt, to prove to himself that he wasn’t such a bad person.

And there was me thinking he had an actual interest in expanding his learning.

My head hurt, the final remnants of my hangover and dealing with Stu making it ache.

“Look, I’m tired. I can’t do this right now,” I said, rising from my seat and frantically shoving my things into my bag. “I still don’t understand why you’re coming to class, but whatever. If you want to learn I’ll teach you. But like I said, there’s no us. There never will be.”

Stu’s gaze hardened as I gestured for him to leave. Silently, he turned and left the classroom. As I locked up I felt emotion catch in my throat but I did my best to tamp it down until I got home. Once there I could let out all my pent-up emotions.