The Blind Teacher's Bait

Chapter 23. Touch me

so my husband has finally dropped his album, do your ears a big favour and stream Shawn Mendes' WONDER❤

randomly, everyone drop a food type you hate. I'll start, mine's noodles.

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"SO WHY DID DA VINCI WRITE like that?" I asked, staring down at my textbook and back up at him, confused. "I mean, what use was it keeping notes of his inventions if he wanted no one to see it?"

"Well," started Jake, slowly his hands firmly on his cane. We were outside the visual arts building, sitting on one of the rows of benches in the quite moderate garden the building kept mainly for aesthetic value. It was a warm day and nice day to enjoy the early November breeze and I had suggested that we have an outdoor class today. "Da Vinci was a prankster, writing that way was probably his idea of a big joke, a source of amusement that his secrets couldn't be uncovered easily."

I read the next few lines of the text we were studying. "And his relation to symbology? Because I don't understand what's going on here."

Jake chuckled softly, I could see his lips form a small, satisfied smile even from beside him where I was seated. "Jailbait, Leonardo Da Vinci is basically the god of symbology, I mentioned that he was quite the prankster and I can assure you that all his works contain deeper and hidden meanings than what any mere artist sees."

"You've seen them all?"

He ignored my question and went on. "All his works, The Last Supper, Madonna, everything contains hidden symbols. He was a kind of nature worshipper during his time, this reflected in his works."

"So he was a very weird man, I noticed."

"You could say that, I guess." Jake nodded. "Da Vinci was a little odd."

"He used dead bodies for some of his practical works," I said, smiling at the amount of knowledge I had amassed in such a short time. "I think we can agree that he was very odd."

"All artists are odd in their own way, Jailbait." He paused, breathing in and for the umpteenth time, I admired just how good looking he was in his black button shirt and faded blue jeans, he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled, exposing his forearm tattoos. His shades covered his beautiful, unseeing eyes and I fought the urge to reach for his man-bun and release the dark silky hair he held up. "Please reach down and scoop up a bit of dirt for me, I wanna explain something to you."

I did as I was told, placing my book on the bench and bending down to the flower patch to scoop a handful of brown, organic dirt.

He held out his big, callused hands. "Here you go," I said, dropping it there and dusting my hands immediately.

"Thank you." He closed his fist over the dirt, now holding his cane with only his right hand. "Have you given any thought to your specialization lately?"

I tore my eyes off him. I wondered if he could tell that he really attracted my attention so very much. "No, not really."

"You should think about it, sooner or later, you're gonna have to make a decision and it's going to be a major one."

I looked down at the patch I had scooped up the dirt from. "Yeah, I'll think about it."

He didn't dwell further on it. "Very good." He opened his clenched fist to show me the dirt I had placed in them earlier. "Now as an artist, one of the major things you need to know is that your media is an extension of you. Whatever it is that you're working with, it's just an extension and that's why --" he closed his fist, rubbing both hands together for a few seconds and producing a dirt ribbon which I stared at for a moment before looking back at his face. "--it can be manipulated however you want, to show whatever you want it to show."

"An extension?"

"Exactly, Jailbait." He nodded. "You're always in control, never forget that. Do you have any more questions on the chapter or should I start asking mine?"

"Umm..." I started, glancing back down at the open textbook, to the start where he had began the explanation from with me reading out and him explaining. "How about we do it like this? You release me now, then ask the questions later?"

"I don't think you're supposed to tell me when I'm supposed to question you." He sounded amused, the corner of his lip lifting in a small smile.

"That's one of the perks of being best friends with my teacher, Jake." I closed the book, smiling and knowing that he probably could tell that I was smiling along with him. "I should probably get going now."

"What's the rush? I'm leaving the studio with Bertie now and we might swing by the bookstore, wanna tag along, Jailbait?"

I had been avoiding him all week, after my confession to James, it made me feel as though what was going on between Jake and I was wrong. I wasn't supposed to but I did, it wasn't like there was anything between us anyways.

"No, thank you." Normal me would have jumped at the invitation.

"Julie?" He actually reached up to remove the shades, facing me with the chocolate brown, unseeing orbs. "Are you avoiding me? You've been kinda off all week and it's bothering, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I stood, quickly thinking up another topic. I didn't want to dwell much on this one. "How's Mr White? He should be gone now, right?"

"Gerard left days ago, he's back at Bath now." Jake gripped the cane with one hand, the other releasing the dirt ribbon and stood. Our height difference was not much at all, the number of times I had been made fun of because I was taller than the average girl was crazy. "Also, don't change the topic. Something is up, what's wrong?"

I looked down at my sneakers, avoiding looking at his eyes which was useless because he couldn't see me anyways. "Um, the thing is that I don't want you getting in trouble because of me, Jake."

He put his shades back on. "I don't understand what you're talking about, Jailbait."

"This." I looked up to point between us. "People might start to get the wrong idea and I don't want that."

"What are you even talking about?" He was chuckling now, but I could tell it was forced. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Jake, you obviously like me."

"Huh?"

I went on. "You obviously like me more than an average student and this our closeness might start to arouse some sort of suspicion and I don't want any trouble."

"I see." His tone was quiet, thoughtful with his jaw clenched. "You're free to go then, Miss Lee Song."

The formality and dismissal in his tone took me aback and I found out I was frowning. "Right. So, do you need any help getting back to the studio, Jake?" I led him here for our class, I didn't feel comfortable leaving him out here.

"Professor," he corrected, and my frown deepened. I didn't want all these formalities back, in fact, I didn't know what I wanted at all. "And no, I'm fine. You can go now, Miss Lee Song."

"Professor," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "Yeah, I'll see you later then?"

"Yes, you will."

I took that as my dismissal and slunked off, leaving him alone in the garden. I took the initiative to double back up to the visual arts building, to his studio to inform good, ol' reliable and ever 'friendly' Bertie that Jake needed his help getting back upstairs before leaving.

I had just one question on my mind throughout, what have I done?

short but really important chapter guys!
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