Pencil, Paper, and Passion.

Chapter Ten: New Beginning.

"Okay, how high?"  Mr. Gallagher asked.  He'd drug me from the car five minutes before and was now insisting that I try the swing set, as I'd never been on one before.  

"Um...  Not too high. I don't want to die." I said, a bit nervously as I clutched the rusty chains in a death grip.

"Elizabeth,"  He said, leaning around me, putting his face close to mine.  "I won't let you die.  I promise."

"So, death by swing set is a possibility?"

"Yes, but it won't be happening today."  This said, he took hold of the chains and pulled back.  I let out a small yelp and squeezed my eyes shut as I felt my feet leave the ground.  When he let go of the chains, I held my breath.  I could feel the air rushing against my face and had no choice but to open my eyes.  Colors blurred past and the air I held in my lungs whooshed out on a small gurgle of laughter.  Mr. Gallagher's hands pushed against the small of my back as I went higher and higher, rushing up into the colors and air.  Up and down.  Up and down, the kaleidoscope of colors dashing by on the upswing, my stomach dropping to my toes on the downswing. 

All too soon, Mr. Gallagher once again grasped the chains, jerking me to a stop.  He smiled at me.  "See, you've escaped unscathed."

"Relatively unscathed," I retorted, and held up my hands so he could see the red marks, from the chains, marring the palms.  "They're sore.'

He rolled his eyes and took my hands in his.  "Aw, poor baby.  Shall I kiss them and make it better?"

"Not unless you want whatever has been on those chains, on your mouth."  I moved to tug my hands from his and lifted an eyebrow at him when he held fast.  "Your choice, but I hope you've had your tetanus shot... Ben."

He grinned at my use of his name, but let go of  one of my hands; the other was kept firmly in his as he led me back to his SUV.  I looked down at our joined hands and felt a small flutter in the pit of my stomach.  This was getting to be too much like a date, rather than a friendly outing.  I mentally shook my head.  No, I was just getting carried away, putting too much thought into something innocent.  Mr. Gallagher would have been appalled at the direction of my thoughts.  He's just being an attentive friend, Eliza, I told myself as I climbed into the SUV.  Don't get any ideas.

Mr. Gallagher and I kept up a light conversation as he drove me home.  He asked me about my other classes and about Brandt and Charles.  I told him stories about the mischief we unerringly managed to get ourselves into and made him laugh uproariously.  I was severely disappointed when I ran out of amusing tales, as I wanted to hear more of his laugh; it was low and husky, a rumble that seemed to come from the center of his chest.  It was an amazingly comforting sound and I found myself wanting to lay my head there, at the center of his chest, while he laughed, so I could listen and feel.  Surprised at the turn of my thoughts, I stayed silent the rest of the ride home, mentally berating myself.  It wasn't right to think such things about my teacher!  But then... nothing about our relationship followed the student/teacher rules.  

"Here we are," Mr. Gallagher said, pulling me out of my reverie, as we pulled up to the front steps of my house.  

"Ah, thanks, Mr. Ga- Ben."  I sent him a vague smile and scrambled out of the SUV, hoping that distance would unscramble my scattered, inappropriate thoughts.

However, he also got out and came around the hood to stand in front of me.  I kept my eyes planted firmly on the middle of his chest, determined not to look him in the face.  Because I knew the exact direction my thoughts would take if I were to get caught in his purple gaze or hung up on his beautifully sculpted mouth.  So, eyes firmly planted, I started to say my goodbyes, "Well, thanks.  For the ice cream and everything .  I had fun."