Once and Again 1. Chapter 1

_More than two years later I stood at the edge. Physically at the edge of a staircase, which, once crossed, would become the point of no return. I could turn away now; walk back the way I had come, go back to my life of the past two years, back to India perhaps. A good life, but unfulfilled. Metaphorically I stood too at the edge of a choice which I knew would alter not only my life, but many other people's lives, forever. Was I sure? No. Should I be doing this? No. Was it wrong? Probably. Did I want to do it? YES. Undeniably, uncategorically, unequivocally, with every fibre of my being. I had to. I took a deep breath and placed my foot down onto the final step._

Eighteen months had passed since that fateful day at the school. Eighteen months. Five hundred and fifty-two days, to be exact. Every day I willed myself to stop counting them, but I couldn't, it was like trying not to think of the pink hippopotamus. That number was always there at the back of my mind, like a slight headache you can convince yourself to ignore but know will push forward at any given, inopportune moment. Some days I did really well; I woke, got dressed, went out, went about my business, sometimes all day long, without once thinking of her. But in the quiet dark moments she always came rushing, unbidden, to the fore of my memory. Even when it was months since I'd last seen her I could still recall her with perfect clarity – the way the light caught her hair, bringing out the reddish gleams, the way her eyes lit up when she was excited, her alluring mix of self-confidence and self-doubt, her passion for the written word. I still had one of her stories. I'd never had the chance to give it back because I had never seen her again. That was one of my greatest regrets – our hurried goodbye in my classroom, with her mother standing guard at the door, was nothing like the farewell she deserved. That we both deserved. The last thing I remember of her was a voice full of hurt and pain. I hated having that memory; she deserved better. _**I**_ deserved better. In the first few weeks after that day I used to take her story out every day, read it, savour it, trying to bring her closer to me, to use it as a channel through which we could communicate somehow, but the pain had become unbearable and I'd buried it at the bottom of a cupboard, wanting, but not quite able, to be totally rid of it – as if that would somehow erase any trace of her as well. Naïve, but I wished it. Perhaps – if only we'd never met, if only I'd kept my distance from the start, if only… I might be contented now. I'd have a job I loved, friends I liked and people who admired me. Of course I would want that. There was only one problem with that scenario.

It would mean I'd never met Grace.

After I'd left the school I got a job working for a publisher in a reference library. Not quite my ideal, but, as I told myself sternly, when I could muster up the strength, it was about as much as I deserved, and I was lucky to have any job. The blemish from Upton Sinclair would track me around for the rest of my life; it was about the worst record for a teacher to have. The ironic thing was that, much as I might have wanted it, nothing had ever happened between Grace and me, but the black mark on my record did not distinguish between what had and had not happened. It classed every kind of impropriety under one heading: Misconduct with a student. So watching a film with her was somehow the same as having sex with her. What a waste. I might as well have had sex with her then, if I'd known that was going to be the case.

I thought a lot about that, in the eighteen months that I worked at the library. It was all so stupid. I _hadn't_ wanted to sleep with Grace. Well, it might have been a part of it, perhaps, eventually, but I wanted so much more than that from her. I wanted to be with her; I wanted _her_. But I wasn't allowed. Admiration from a distance, perhaps? That might be allowed. But that was for beautiful, empty dolls. You couldn't do that with Grace. You needed to be in there with her, sharing the moment, sharing her interests, her passions, her insecurities, her loves, her fears, her truth, her soul.

On March 17th, eighteen months after I'd left the high school, it happened. I woke up and felt different. Inexplicably I no longer wanted to block out the memories of my last year there; suddenly I wanted to relish them, and I wanted more. I wanted to know what was going on without me. What life was like outside the nest I had built for myself to hide in. So I picked up the phone and called Jerry. It wasn't the first time we had spoken, of course. Like the good guy he was he called me up every few weeks, always friendly, unaccusatory, but with that little reservation on the edge of his voice that told me that our easy-going days as partners-in-crime were pretty much over. We talked about lots of things – art, movies, books, his family – but by an unspoken agreement the school was never mentioned, nor anything to do with it – friends and colleagues, the plays he was putting on, the pupils…and especially not Grace. But today I felt reckless, insane almost. I suddenly needed desperately to know what was going on there, in that place that had been my world for so long. And the subject of Grace needn't come up, I reasoned with myself as I dialed. She would have left six months ago; she was a freshman at college now, no doubt, making an impression on some other English teacher. The thought nearly killed me, to be frank. Loving all things creative and to do with books and writing – that was _our_ thing. That was special to us; it was our sacred bond. Surely Grace had felt that too? She wouldn't want to share it with anybody else, would she?

I was being insane. Of course she would. I had gone, she'd moved on, made new friends, met new teachers. She probably had a boyfriend. Probably didn't give me a second thought anymore, or if she did she most likely dismissed me as some silly schoolgirl crush. I could see her, with her new boyfriend, laughing and discussing past relationships: _"Oh, and there was this teacher in High School I had this total crush on..Mr Dimitri. I wonder what ever happened to him…?"_ Oh God, the thought of that nearly broke my heart. But then I remembered the book. Our book. She wouldn't, she couldn't forget, not with page three as a constant reminder to her. So I dialed Jerry. He answered; we talked about something arbitrary, something mundane, I can't even remember. But when there was a lull in the conversation I jumped in quickly. I had to.

"So, Jerry, I've been meaning to ask you…how's it been going at Sinclair? Since..you know."

There was a pause, and I could almost hear Jerry's thought processes wondering what on earth I was up to.

"Jerry? You still there?" I walked over to the fridge and got out some cheese. I needed to keep my hands busy, under the pretext that this was just any old casual conversation. I cut myself a slice.

"Yeah, I'm here, August. Well..it's been all right, I guess. Not the same without you, of course. But still, the same old story, you know? It never changes much, does it?"

"No." Or it didn't, until I met one girl who stood out like I'd never thought possible. "So, did you do a play last year?"

"Um, yeah. Much Ado about Nothing, actually."

"One of your favourites. I bet it was great, Jer. I wish…I wish I could have seen it." _Was she in it? Was she? I mustn't ask him. Stupid, stupid. Of course Grace was going to come up. That's why you phoned him. You know it; you're deluding yourself if you think otherwise._

"Yeah, me too. Look, August-"

"Was Grace in it?" There. I've said it. Can't take it back now.

"Look, August, I don't think-"

"Jerry. It's me. You know me. What do you think I'm going to do?" I could feel my voice rising in anger, and I fought to keep it down, friendly, low-key. "It's been eighteen months, Jerry. I'm just interested, that's all. Just tell me."

Jerry sighed. I could hear him. "She was Beatrice. And yes, before you ask, she was fantastic. Okay?"

Beatrice. I could see her now, feisty, strong-willed, trading insults with the best of them: _"I had sooner hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me."_ But deep down, wanting to be loved just the same as anybody else. Oh, Grace.

"August? You still there?"

"Yeah. That's great, Jerry. All I ever wanted was for her to do well. Um, so has she gone to college now, do you know?"

"Harvard, I think. Look, Gus, I know it's none of my business, but you're not still – I mean, it's been ages, and she's moved on with her life now, and you have too. It's just that –"

"What?" I snapped.

"Forgetting about Grace Manning, and everything – it's the smartest thing you can do."

I groaned. He was right. Of course he was right. It was the smartest thing to do. Unfortunately it was the one thing I didn't feel capable of doing.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the beginning of the new college year, and Grace Manning was unloading her belongings from the trunk of her mother's car.

"Mom, really. It's fine," she protested as she saw Lily preparing to pick up her largest suitcase. "I can manage, honest."

Lily threw her a mother-ish, withering look. "Gracie, you've got two trunkfuls of stuff here, in your car and mine. I think you're gonna need some help taking it up three floors."

"Yeah, okay." Grace swung a large duffelbag over her shoulder and picked up three huge files that simply hadn't been able to fit into any of the bags.

"You'd think you were moving in forever, with all this stuff," Lily teased as they went inside. "After all, you'll be coming home at Christmas."

"Yeah, but that's three months away, and in the meantime my life is here, and I need all my stuff. Besides, if I hadn't had to move out of my old room for the renovations I could have left half of this stuff here over the summer."

"I know, honey. I'm just kidding. So what's your new room like? Have you seen it?"

"No. But when Ally called last night she said it was great – much bigger and with a great view of the lawns."

They were halfway up the second flight of stairs now, with Lily ahead of her daughter. "I wish – oh, excuse me –" she muttered as a group of students came flying down the stairs and pushed past her – "I wish Rick had been able to come and help you settle in."

"Mom, it's fine. We can manage. I know where I'm going and what I'm doing. I'm not a freshman anymore, you know."

Lily smiled. "I know. My sophomore daughter! I can't believe it." She looked at her eldest daughter fondly, until, seeing Grace's embarrassed look, she turned away and continued upwards. "So you're rooming with Ally Jessop again? I like her. And doesn't she have that good-looking twin brother as well…?" She left the question dangling on purpose. Grace hadn't seemed to have a boyfriend over her freshman year; she had mentioned a couple of boys who sounded nice, but always in the context of friendship. Her roommate Ally's brother had come over for a 4th of July picnic at the Sammler's house, and Lily had been quite struck by his good looks and friendly, open personality. Grace and Ally got along really well, but it seemed there was nothing more than that between Grace and David either. In fact, Grace hadn't mentioned so much as a date, or a boy she liked, since her junior year in high school – not since the whole mess with her English teacher, Mr Dimitri. Lily shook herself. She'd tried hard to forget about that incident, and she hoped Grace had, too. She'd certainly never mentioned it again. But sometimes, Lily wasn't so sure that Grace had forgotten it at all.

"Mom! Forget it, okay? We're just friends." came Grace's voice. It took Lily a minute to realise her daughter was still talking about David Jessop. And not August Dimitri.

Grace's new room was wonderful; nearly twice the size of her previous one, with windows on two of the adjacent walls, large desks with spacious bookshelves, and two beds on opposite sides of the room, far away enough for Grace and Ally not to disturb each other if one was asleep and the other still working or reading. Ally, who had arrived the night before, wasn't there at the moment, but the belongings strewn all over the bed closest to the door and its accompanying desk indicated that she was somewhere in the middle of unpacking. A few photographs, including one of herself, David and Grace laughing with their arms around each other at the same Fourth of July picnic, were already pinned to the big display board above her desk.

"She's not the tidiest," Grace said, almost apologetically, dumping her things on her new bed. Lily smiled knowingly, and nodded.

"I can see that. But this room is great, honey. Really. Now come on, let's go back down to the cars and get the rest of your things."

"Grace! You're here!" A pretty, dark-haired girl came racing through the doorway and flung herself on Grace. Grace hugged her back, her usual reserve fading away as it always did with Ally, who, in some ways, was the polar opposite of reticent Grace. Ally was far more impetuous and free-spirited, and Lily thought she was good for Grace.

"Hi, Mrs Sammler," Ally said as she broke away from Grace.

"Hello, Ally. It's good to see you again. How are you? And your family?"

"Oh, I'm great, they're all great. David's still doing Law here, and the really great thing is my older sister, Gabrielle, has just transferred here to do her masters – so we'll be at the same school again – which is totally cool because that hasn't happened since I was, like, nine," Ally enthused. "She's a couple of years older than me, you see. That's her in that photo over there."

She pointed out the picture above the one at the picnic, which showed a gorgeous, laughing, red-haired girl in a long green evening dress.

"She's really beautiful," Lily said, almost surprised, for she had assumed that the really pretty Ally was the beauty of her family.

"Yeah, well, we don't let it go to her head," Ally laughed. "And I chase away all the men who trail after her – gotta keep some for myself, you know?"

"Well, see if you can find one for Grace this semester," Lily laughed.

"Mom!" Grace said, exasperated and embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. You know I just want you to be happy. I won't say another word, I promise. Now we'd better go get the rest of your things from the cars."

"Yeah, okay. Are you coming?" Grace said to Ally.

"Sure." Then, as Lily disappeared out the door, she said quietly, "You know, Grace, your Mom's right. I know you're working really hard and all, but it'd be good for you to get out with some guys a bit more. Date a bit. After all, that's what college is for, right?"

Grace forced a smile. "Yeah, I know." But how could she, when she could never get his blue eyes out of her mind?


	3. Chapter 3

"Grace! Come in and meet my sister!"

It was three weeks into the semester, and Grace, just returned from a taxing creative writing class, stopped in the doorway of her dorm room.

"Your sister? Gabrielle, you mean?"

"I didn't know I _had_ another one," Ally laughed, dragging her friend inside the room. Sitting on Ally's bed, sprawling out yet somehow elegant, was one of the most beautiful women Grace had ever seen. Her hair, thick and auburn, framed a perfect heart-shaped face. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her mouth like a small, half-opened rosebud, her eyes deep and green, framed by long dark lashes. Grace, who, like her mother, had always assumed that dark, vivacious Ally was the family beauty, was momentarily taken-aback, and then recovered herself.

"It's nice to meet you, Gabrielle. I've heard a lot about you." She leaned across to shake Gabrielle's hand.

"Same here," Gabrielle said, smiling in a friendly but lazy fashion. Presumably she was used to people staring at her, Grace surmised, wishing for the millionth time in her life that she herself could have any idea what that was like.

"Sit down, Grace," Ally said, motioning at the bed. "I've got chocolate cake as a special treat. There goes my lunch money for the next week, but still, it's worth it to have my big sister in my presence," she added, grinning. Then, as Grace attempted to sit down on the extreme corner of the bed, "Shove up, you great long-leggedy freak! Grace hasn't got anywhere to sit."

"No, it's fine, really-" Grace protested. Gabrielle pulled herself up into a sitting position, freeing up the end of the bed. "No worries," she smiled. Grace smiled back uncertainly.

"So, Ally says you're doing your masters this year?" she enquired.

"Yeah. More's the pity. I couldn't feel less like it. There comes a point in your life when you just feel like you've studied enough, you know? But still, I might as well finish what I've started while I'm on a roll. And it makes a nice change to be here. I spent the whole of last year in Texas. Ghastly place."

Grace smiled, not very sure what to say to this. Gabrielle, however, was one of those people who likes to talk and didn't notice if her audience was silent or not.

"Yeah, so I'm doing comparative literature this semester," she continued. "It's a bit tedious so far, to be honest. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it. Of course, the lecturer is a TOTAL babe, which helps. Heck, I'd go to subatomic physics if he was doing it."

"Gaby abhors science in every shape and form," Ally explained helpfully to Grace.

"Oh. Yeah, I'd rather do English too," Grace said, trying to stifle a sudden thought of HIM. If he were here she'd go to any class he lectured too, just to be near him.

"There are only three of us in his class, anyway," Ally was saying. "And the other two aren't up to much. He totally seems to get me; I'm thinking of asking him out sometime."

Ally rolled her eyes." Gabrielle asks out anything male on two legs," she grinned. Her sister batted her playfully with a rolled-up magazine.

"I can't help it if they all fall under my spell," she complained in a rather complacent tone of voice.

"But don't they - I mean, are you allowed to date lecturers here?" Grace asked, surprised.  
"Ah, so naive! No one really cares what you do. In a strictly unofficial sense, of course. There probably are rules about it somewhere in the depths of ruledom, but no one pays them much mind. Honest. I've dated loads of staff; it's never been a problem."

"So you're going to ask the literature guy out, then?" Grace said, wondering if she would ever have the courage to do that. Probably not. In fact, certainly not, not after the Mr Dimitri fiasco.

"Yeah, we have a lot in common - I'm taking his course, we both have red hair...don't you find that red-haired people understand you like no one else?" she addressed Grace suddenly.

Grace jumped slightly. It was so much exactly what she'd always thought about herself and Mr Dimitri. No one had ever understood her so effortlessly and so completely before. Or since. She tried to force him out of her mind. Honestly, she thought crossly, she hadn't seen him for well over two years now, and she'd thought it would get easier in time. But somehow, it wasn't. Every time she thought of him it hurt just as much as it had on that horrible day in the Principal's office. And even though no one had so much as breathed his name since then, Grace couldn't help but be reminded of him everywhere she went. She no longer read the stories she'd written in her junior year - his year - and she hadn't touched _'As You Like it'_ for three years. The only thing she couldn't help herself doing was to take down the Chekhov book occasionally and run her fingers over the inscription on the third page. She tried to limit herself, to look at it perhaps only once a month, but she couldn't stop. It had come with her to college - there it stood now on the top shelf above her desk; innocent-looking, between her old well-thumbed copy of _As you Like it_ and her journal from that same year. The latter two she never touched, but she needed them here with her, if only because she didn't want to leave them at home in case her mother or Zoë - or even Jessie or Eli - found them and read her true feelings out of them somehow - even though Mr Dimitri was never even mentioned in the journal at all. But the Chekhov drew her to it, every time. She needed it now. She craved it; she hadn't opened it since she'd been back.

"Grace?" she heard, and looked up to find Gabrielle and Ally staring at her. "Are you okay?" the latter demanded.

Suddenly Grace felt like she couldn't breathe. "I'm sorry, yes, I'm fine...I was just thinking about someone I used to know. Um, I have to go. Gabrielle, it was nice to meet you; I'll see you later, Ally...bye." And she walked out of the room as fast as she could without running. Once outside she ran down the stairs without looking where she was going, hot tears were filling her eyes; burning angry ones that streamed down her cheeks unchecked. She ran out onto the lawn and crossed through the bushes into the shrubbery, where she sank down onto the ground and cried helplessly, all the pain she had been bottling up for two years finally finding a release that was completely unstoppable.

How long she lay there she never knew; but when the tears seemed slower and she was able to breathe again, she looked up to find the shadows lengthening on the ground and a distinct chill in the air. It was nearly evening. She must have missed her poetry class. Great. That meant going all the way over to the English department and checking the notice-board for the next class's reading and assignment. It wasn't too far, but it wasn't exactly close, either, and Grace was in no mood to do anything but curl up and go to sleep. Still - she'd have no time tomorrow morning, and she'd promised ages ago to have lunch with Ally and David, and it was cutting it rather late to leave it until tomorrow afternoon. Besides, she knew it would niggle at her if she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing - and she didn't have a particular friend in that class to ask. With a sigh she got up and dusted the leaves off her shirt. She needed to go back up to her room and freshen up and pick up a notebook, but she didn't want to see Ally or Gabrielle. Still, it was nearly evening. Gaby had most likely gone back to her apartment - she didn't live on campus - and Ally was always watching her soaps in the tv room at this time of day. It'd probably be safe to pop up to her room quickly, Grace decided.

She was right. The room was in darkness when she carefully opened the door. The sisters had left. Switching on the light, Grace regarded herself in the mirror. She looked like hell. Her left cheek was all grubby and smeared from lying in the dirt for so long, her hair was messed up and full of leaves and twigs, and her eyes were swollen and red. She went down the passage to the bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her hair out. Her eyes still looked red so she put on some dark eye shadow to hide it. She didn't usually wear eye shadow: it looked good, she realised, surveying herself critically. She added some mascara too.

"And that's enough; I'm just going to get the notes and then come back to bed," she told herself. She hadn't had any supper, but she was too worn out to care. Brushing off her red blouse once more she ran back to her room, grabbed a jacket - it was distinctly nippy outside tonight - and her notebook, and then set off for the English department.

The department was housed in a building on campus, but some way away from Grace's dorm. As she walked she realised she was enjoying it, it was dusk and the lights were just beginning to twinkle on in the buildings around her. She passed few people, and no one stopped her or took any notice of her, which was exactly the way she wanted it. The crisp breeze was clearing away the dull headache she'd brought on through so much crying, and cooling her hot eyes and bringing a tinge of pink to her pale cheeks. She was almost sorry when she found herself inside the building which housed several of the major departments - including English on the ground floor. Grace made her way over to the notice-board for the various subjects and found the one for her poetry class. Not too bad: "Assignment due 29th September - Discuss the use of metaphor in 'Black Rook in Rainy Weather'. (1500 words). For Thursday's class, prepare "The Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by TS Eliot." She knew the poem pretty well already - they'd done it at school and it was one that appealed to her. And the notes she'd already made on the Sylvia Plath should suffice as the basis for that essay. So she hadn't missed too much that afternoon, thank goodness. Grace hated missing out on things and not being in complete control of what was going on. It was one of the things Mr Dimitri had accused her of during _'As you like it'_ two and a half years ago - that she was too much in control; that she never took a chance and bared her soul. She'd hated him for it, but, she knew, only because she cared so badly about what he thought. And then she _had_ bared her soul, and he'd admitted how much that had meant to him – and that he had never been able to do it himself. Had she believed him? Did he really think he was a fraud? Perhaps. Grace had a sneaking suspicion that he'd had quite a bit more than the glass of wine she'd caught him with, and if he'd been absolutely sober he would never have said as much as he had. But did that make it all true? She wished she knew. And she never would, now.

She turned to walk back the way she'd come, glancing idly at the boards for the other classes. She caught sight of one which made her stop dead. A large quotation, printed neatly on blue cardboard, pinned to one of the boards entitled "Quote of the week."

' _I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart'_

Grace stepped back, surprised. The words were Rosalind's; she knew them perfectly, even now. Why were they there? It wasn't exactly a typical quote: it would have little meaning to anyone who didn't know the play. Of course, perhaps one of the classes was doing _As you like It_ that semester. But still, it was a strange choice. Grace ran through the scene in her head. A few lines later Celia spoke about hating Orlando for her father's sake, then Rosalind replied, "No faith, hate him not, for my sake" and Celia said, "Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well?" and Rosalind replied, "Let me love him for that, and do you love him because I do." It was one of her favourite lines; at the time she'd always mentally substituted Mr Dimitri for Orlando, and the scene had assumed the context of her family disliking him because he was her teacher, and her attempting to persuade them to love him for her sake. Because she loved him. She did. She knew it now. Swallowing the lump that rose unbidden in her throat, she began to say the words out loud. It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, they came to her easily, and somehow brought back the magic and wonder of those early days with him: the uncertainty and the excitement. Grace stood alone in the darkened corridor and bared her soul as she never had before, the tears building up as she said the final line, taking on a sadness perhaps unintended even by Shakespeare: "Let me love him for that, and do you love him because I do."

_One step from the bottom of the staircase I stood, almost paralysed, listening to every word. I could make the choice - if I stood still she would never see me; if I moved one step down, into the passageway, she would. Which did I want? Which was right?_

Grace stopped, feeling suddenly empty. She had poured her heart out and no one was there to hear it. Which, of course, was good - she would have been highly embarrassed if someone had walked in on her - but she still felt hollow inside.

"Stupid," she muttered to herself, turning back to the notice-board and plucking at the corner of the cardboard on which the quotation was written, more for the sake of something to do than anything else.

"I always said you were remarkable," came a voice behind her in the stillness. Grace froze. No...that voice...it couldn't be. She swung round. And it was.

"Mr Dimitri," she gasped. He hadn't changed. His hair was slightly longer, perhaps, but his eyes were the same - wide and full of warmth and depth, and his mouth smiling. Her stomach somersaulted.

For his part, though he had seen her eight times over the past three weeks - and how pathetic that he was counting, he thought to himself - he had always had to be careful not to let her see him, and so he had never been able to take her in properly, her eyes looking directly at his, her whole being centred towards him. This meeting was entirely coincidental, for once; he had been working late and had run up to visit a colleague on the second floor, and had just been coming down the stairs when he heard her reciting Rosalind's speech. Not like the other times when he had specifically followed Grace just to see her; he knew her whole schedule by now, and he knew the best places to hide and watch her. He was becoming a dirty old man, he told himself. A stalker. But he had to see her. The days when he didn't... felt so bleak and empty. And now, there she stood, dressed in jeans, a red blouse and a slim-fitting black coat. God, she was beautiful. Her expressive eyes, wide with surprise, her mouth turning up at the corners at the sight of him, her long, shiny hair caught up in a barrette, leaving a few stray strands to frame her face...and she looked taller and slimmer, somehow. He realised he was staring, and spoke, his voice slightly rasping because his mouth was so dry.

"Hello, Grace of my heart."

Grace gave an incredulous little gasp. It was really him, it was, and he was happy to see her. She put her hand up to her mouth. "Mr Dimitri..." she choked slightly on the last syllable.

"I think you can call me August now," he replied, smiling, taking a step forward, and as her face crumpled in tears of sheer joy, he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and wept, her arms caught in front of her, between their bodies. Her hands clutched the lapels of his jacket, and he held her tightly, his lips pressed to the top of her head, with tears in his own eyes. At length he spoke.

"God, I've been waiting to hold you like this for over two years."

Grace looked up as he relaxed his tight hold on her, and though the tears were still streaming down her cheeks, she smiled, the most beautiful, happy smile he had ever seen on her face.

"Longer," she said. "I've always wanted you to hold me like this. Ever since we first met."

"I know," he replied, and then grinned suddenly. "Even that first day, when I was so harsh about your journal and you went home and told everyone you hated me?"

"How did you know-" Grace said, startled.

"Because I know you, Grace. I know you so well, better than I know myself sometimes. That's why it's been like a part of me was missing, these last two years."

"I know. I've felt the same. I missed you so much." She looked up at him with eyes so full of trust and love that he thought his heart would break. He couldn't even speak.

"What are you doing here?" Grace demanded suddenly, the realisation of what a coincidence this was dawning on her.

"Teaching," August replied nonchalantly.

"Teaching here? They gave you a job?" Grace said incredulously.

"Yes, well, stranger things have happened. I happen to be a fairly good teacher, you know."

"No, you happen to be a fairly spectacular teacher," Grace retorted, laughing, and he smiled. "I just thought that - after they asked you to leave the school - that you wouldn't be able to...you know."

"Teach again?" Then, as Grace nodded, "Neither did I, to be frank. But I applied here and they didn't say anything, so here I am."

"Did you know I was here?"

"Grace. That's the only reason I'm here. You're the only reason. I thought it would be best if I never saw you again...but I couldn't do it. I waited so long, Grace - I wanted to see if you were happy here, if you'd moved on, found someone else," he choked slightly on the last word but continued resolutely, "and so I came here and I watched you. Eating lunch in the cafeteria, reading on the lawn, sitting in class-"

"You've been watching me all semester?" Grace asked in surprise. Maybe _that_ was why she'd felt so...reminded of him recently. Perhaps she'd been able to sense how close he was.

He looked abashed. "I'm sorry, I know it's slightly...voyeuristic. Like I was stalking you. But I honestly had to see for myself, if I was going to be ruining your life by coming back into it. I knew that _I_ wanted to. But I didn't know what you wanted, what you felt, and I had to find out. So I watched you."

"And...what did you see?" Grace said softly.

"I saw the girl with the loneliest eyes," he said even more quietly. Grace bit her lower lip. "And I knew that I had to make them light up again - like they are now."

Grace let out a sob, and he pulled her to him again.

"Oh, Grace," he held her close, "I'm so sorry about everything. I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry everything went wrong, I'm sorry I never got to say goodbye to you the way I wanted, and I'm sorry I had to spend the last two years without you. But most of all," he pushed her back slightly so that she could look up at him, "I'm sorry I never got to do this before now," and he lowered his head to hers. His mouth touched hers: softly, gently, as it almost had that day in the car, he rubbed his lips against hers, feather-light, and then suddenly he couldn't take it anymore and he pushed against her, almost fiercely, his tongue penetrating her lips and into her mouth. Her tongue met it with the same eagerness and they kissed wildly, passionately, two lovers long separated who now wanted nothing more than to be with each other in every way.

How long they stood there, kissing in the darkness, neither knew, all they knew was that they had to be together and to stop would be torture. Eventually Grace pulled away, gasping.

"Are you okay?" August asked. "I'm sorry - is this too much for you?"

Grace laughed. "God, no. I just needed a breather, that's all. I kind of felt like I was going under there, for a second."

"Me too." he paused. "God, Grace, you are the most - amazing creature ever to cross my path. I can't tell you how much I've wanted this, dreamed of this - dreamed of you. I don't know if it's wrong, but I want you so much."

"It's not wrong, it's right," Grace replied. "It was always right. There were just ... obstacles. And there aren't anymore."

"No, there aren't." He looked seriously at her. "Does this mean, Grace Manning, that you want to be with me?"

"Yes. I want to be with you, August," she said without hesitation, and he leaned down and kissed her again - tenderly, this time, because they both knew they had forever in front of them.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, who's the guy?"

Grace, who had just drifted through the door in a dreamy haze, stopped dead at the sound of Ally's voice. Her roommate was sitting on her bed, arms crossed, watching Grace keenly. Grace felt herself beginning to blush, and going over to her bed, she fluffed up a pillow, and said, "Guy? What guy? There's no guy!"

"Grace, hello! This is me you're talking to here. I know there's a guy. Look at yourself in the mirror. Go on, look. Your hair's all messed up and you've got this - I don't know, glowy, dreamy look about you. Look."

Grace turned and surveyed herself in the dressing table mirror. God, she did have an odd look on her face. She couldn't stop smiling, for one, and Ally was right, she was sort of shiny and glowing.

"Of course," Ally said, joining her silently from behind, "the most obvious giveaway is that huge hickey on your neck..."

Grace gasped as she saw it, there on the right side of her neck. She and August had wandered back in the direction of her dorm some time earlier, but a convenient secluded bench along the way had provided a welcome distraction, and goodness only knew how long they had been sitting there kissing - or necking, apparently. Grace, seeing Ally in the mirror grinning behind her, turned around and hit her with the pillow she was still holding. Ally dodged the full force of it, laughing.

"You - you - bitch!" Grace cried, half-laughing too.

"Ha! I'm not the one who's keeping secret boyfriends away from her best friend," Ally grinned. "Come on, Grace - you ran out of here at like 2 o'clock this afternoon, and now it's after ten. What have you been doing all this time - or shouldn't I ask? And with whom?"

"I haven't been 'doing' anything," Grace protested. "Ok, well, obviously I've been doing something, but it's not what you think. We were - just kissing..." she trailed off, smiling at the memory.

"Must have been some kiss," Ally commented, flopping down on her bed again. "Ok, so spill - who is he? Where'd you meet him? Is he cute?"

Grace laughed. "He's just...an old friend I haven't seen for a while. We bumped into each other in the English department."

"Honey, old friends don't say hello like _that_, no matter how long it's been. So - what, is he an old boyfriend? From school? You never talk about your school boyfriends."

"That's because there's not much to tell. I went out with a couple of guys, but nothing else. No serious relationships, you know?"

"Except - _him_? What was the deal with him?" Ally demanded

"He was...a crush," Grace said slowly. "No, it was more than that. We wanted - well, I wanted, and I think he did too - to be together, but it was difficult, we couldn't."

"He had a girlfriend?"

"No, no, he was single..but - Ally, if I tell you this, you've got to promise not to tell anyone else, okay? I've never told anyone."

"Wow. Okay, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Now come on, I'm dying here!"

Grace considered how to put it. "He was older than me, for one. People didn't approve."

"Older? How much older? Where did you find him at school? Was he, like, a friend's brother, or something?"

"No. We met at school." Grace was embarrassed suddenly; _she_ knew how beautiful the feelings were between herself and Mr Dimitri - no, August - and their age difference didn't seem to matter when they were together, but she was all too aware of how it looked to other people. For this reason they had resolved, on their walk back to her dorm, to keep their relationship under wraps for the time being - from the general public, anyway, and of course Grace's parents. Naturally Ally would have to know; as the person who shared Grace's room it would be impossible to keep something this big from her. But telling her the plain facts was rather more difficult than Grace had expected.

"You met at school? But how -" Then, as realisation dawned on Ally's face, Grace dropped her eyes. "My God, Grace. He wasn't - a teacher, was he?"

Grace looked up and met Ally's eyes squarely. "Yes, he was. He was my English teacher. But Ally, I swear, nothing ever happened between us back then. We - we both wanted it to, but we knew we couldn't, and then the principal found out that we'd seen a movie together, and he - well, they fired him."

"_No_!" Ally's eyes were like saucers. "Wow. This is like totally something I never expected from you, Grace! So you had a thing with your English teacher -"

"A thing where nothing happened," Grace interrupted.

"All right, nothing happened, but you met him again tonight and something _did _happen, right?"

"Something like that," Grace admitted. "I'm out of school now, and - well, I never stopped lo- feeling the way I did about him, and neither did he about me. So we sort of got back together."

"Aww, that's too sweet, Grace!" said Ally, the hopeless romantic. "Life was against you but you overcame it...it's like a great novel! And now you can be together with no obstacles."

Grace grimaced. "Um, not really. My parents would just about flip out - my Dad nearly killed him when he _thought_ there was something going on; imagine what he'd be like if he found out for sure! And there's always the age gap."

"Why? How old is this guy, Grace?"

"Forty-one." Grace admitted.

"_Forty-one_! That's like, twenty-two years older than you, Grace! My God, my _mother_ is only forty. This guy's the same age as your parents -"

"Ally. Calm down. I know. Trust me. I've thought about this like a million times. But it never feels like that when I'm with him; we're just two people who connect. I don't think of him as _old_."

"No, well, of course you wouldn't, "Ally said slowly. "Wow. Grace, I'm really happy for you. Just be careful, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know. But trust me, Ally, he won't hurt me. Nothing could hurt as much it hurt being separated from him all this time."

Later that night, after she and Ally had talked the whole subject to death, Grace lay in bed trying to fall asleep. She could hear the steady breathing from the other side of the room which meant Ally was asleep, but she was too worked up to be able to relax and do the same. She couldn't get August off her mind. Had it really happened? What if it was all just a terribly real daydream? It wouldn't be the first time she'd had one of those. No, of course she knew it had been real. She smiled to herself. He was hers, and she was his. At last.

A soft tapping at the door caused her to sit bolt upright in panic. She looked at the luminous hands of her alarm clock. Two-thirty. Who the heck could be knocking at her door at this time of night? She stiffened as she saw the door being pushed ever so slowly open as the crack of light from the passage outside widened. Then a figure appeared in the gap. She froze, unable to scream. They usually didn't lock the door, but then, no one ever came in in the middle of the night either. Then she heard a whisper.

"Grace?"

"August?" she said, startled, slightly too loudly. What was he doing here?

"Sssh." August's form appeared out of the darkness and knelt down by her bed. "I don't want to wake your roommate."

"She sleeps like the dead," Grace said, smiling as she took in August's face, his smile, the love radiating from him. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you again. I couldn't believe it was all real. I just wanted to touch you, to be sure."

"It was real," Grace said, and kissed him gently. He kissed back, his hands on the back of her head, running through her hair. He hoisted himself up onto her bed and she shifted over to make room for him.

"I just want to be near you, I just want to hold you," he breathed into her ear. "Is that all right?"

"Yeah," Grace whispered back. She shifted back down to a lying position, on her side, and August lay on top of the covers, pressing against her back, his left arm thrown over her body and clasping her hands in his. He kissed the nape of her neck.

"I'll just stay for a bit," he whispered. "You can go to sleep."

"I think I might just be able to now," Grace murmured, and did just that. August lay there for a while, pondering the enormity of the situation, and thinking how he hadn't felt this contented in years, fully intending to leave in an hour or so. But he didn't. Worn out, he too fell asleep, his arms still around the girl he loved.

Ally looked up blearily. Her alarm clock was going off like a mad thing, but it had fallen off her bedside table onto the floor somewhere.

"Buggrit," she muttered, and climbed out to retrieve it. "There." She switched the alarm off and put the clock down, then looked across to see if Grace had woken up too. The scene she saw made her gasp momentarily. Grace was tucked up in bed, all right, but lying practically on top of her was a masculine form, still fully clothed except for his shoes, his long red hair masking his face from view. Ally stood still and considered the situation. Obviously this was the infamous August Dimitri; equally obvious was that Grace would be rather embarrassed if Ally woke her up now. However, Ally _had_ to wake her because she had a class in less than half-an-hour and she hadn't set her own alarm. Grace hated to miss class, Ally knew, even if it would mean lying in bed with a nice guy draped over her. Ally tiptoed over to the bed and touched Grace's hand.

"Grace! Wake up," she said softly. Grace didn't stir, but _he_ did, lifting his head suddenly, pushing back his auburn hair with his hand, and then raising a pair of calm blue eyes to Ally.

Hmm, he IS cute, Ally caught herself thinking. August got off the bed carefully and extended his hand to Ally, entirely unabashed. "Hi, I'm August. You must be Ally."

"Um, yes." Ally's usual insouciance was completely gone for perhaps the first time in her life. "It's nice to meet you...um..sorry I woke you, but Grace has a class in half-an-hour, so-"

"And Grace would kill you if she missed it, I know," he grinned. "Say no more. I'm out of here. You can wake Grace for me, and tell her I'll see her later." He kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on Grace's cheek, gently. "Goodbye, Ally. We'll meet again soon, no doubt. Thank you." And then he was gone in a flourish.

"Wow," said Ally out loud, to the room. "Just, wow." She leaned over Grace and shook her. "Grace, wakey-wakey!"

Grace looked up blearily. "What - oh, what time is it?"

"Seven," Ally said nonchalantly.

"_Seven_?" My God, Ally, I've got class at half-past! Why didn't you wake me?"

"I just woke up myself. Besides," Ally grinned, "you and your boyfriend looked far too cute lying there together."

"Oh my God! You-you saw him? Was he still here?" Grace blushed, wondering what Ally must think of her.

"Yeah. He woke up when I tried to wake you the first time. He said he'd see you later."

"Nothing happened, okay, Ally?" Grace insisted, seeing Ally's knowing smile. "We would never - you know - with you in the same room, that'd just be gross. Besides, we haven't - and we haven't even talked about it...he just wanted to be with me-"

"Grace, relax! I know. You don't have to explain it to me. I think it's great. Actually, I think he's great too. Very..um...dashing. And cute too. For an old guy-" She dodged as Grace threw a pillow at her. "No, seriously, Grace, he seems really nice. I'm happy for you."

"I think I'm happier for myself," Grace said, her mouth full of toothpaste.


	5. Chapter 5

As Grace came out of her Literature class later that morning, August, who had been waiting outside the door, appeared next to her and put his arm around her waist.

"Hi, beautiful."

"Hey." Grace smiled. "Um, are you sure we should be doing this - in public, you know? Not that I'm complaining, it feels great, but don't you think we should keep a bit of a low profile or something?'

"I don't care, to be honest," he retorted. "I'm not teaching you or anyone in your year, these people don't know who I am, they most likely don't care, and I'm too happy to care either. Now that I've found you again I'm not going to tiptoe around you for the rest of our lives."

"Except around my family..."

"Well, yes, except then," he smiled and bent down and kissed her quickly as they walked. "So now, what do you want to do today? Are you free for lunch?"

"I think...no, dammit, I promised my roommate and her brother we'd meet up today for lunch. Ally's found some fantastic little French bistro just outside campus, or something, that she wanted us to go to."

"Well, that's all right."

"No, no," Grace said quickly, not wanting to disappoint him on their first day as a couple, "I'm sure I can get out of it. Ally will understand."

"Grace." August stopped walking and led her into a deserted side corridor. "We're together now, and I'm thrilled, but you know I don't expect you to cancel plans with your friends because of me, or change anything because of me. I want you to have friends, and a life apart from me. You wouldn't be a whole person otherwise. Much as I'd like to keep you all to myself," he said thoughtfully, running his index fingers down the sides of her face.

"You," said Grace, "are really something, you know?"

"I know," he replied teasingly, and kissed her. For a few moments they kissed, lost in each other, and then pulled apart, their faces still inches away from each other's.

"So, what about after lunch?" Grace said softly. "I've got no classes this afternoon; what about you?"

"Free as a bird. I've got a comparative lit class for some masters students right before lunch, but after that I'm…all yours." He lingered on the last two words, and Grace felt a thrill deep in her stomach, not unlike the butterflies she got before a performance on stage. "Tell you what. You call me from this bistro - I think I know where it is - when you've about finished up, and I'll come and collect you. We can go to my house; I live just a few blocks from there. That is, if you want to."

"I do," Grace said, and leaned in and kissed him again. It seemed incredible that they'd only just met again yesterday; it felt like they'd been together for years. They pulled apart as they heard a group of people approaching.

"Here's my cell number," August said, handing her his card. "You'd better give me yours so I can find you...whenever I want you." Grace's stomach flip-flopped again, and she silently pulled out a pen and scribbled down her number on a scrap of paper, which August then tucked into his shirt pocket.

"Close to my heart," he said. "Now I have to go and do some preparation for that ghastly class, so - I'll see you after lunch?"

"Definitely." Then, as he began to move away, she remembered something suddenly.

"Did you say comparative lit? For masters?"

"Yeah, why?"

"My roommate - Ally, you met her this morning, I think - her sister is taking that class. Gabrielle Jessop."

"Ah, yes. I've had the pleasure." August looked thoughtful, and Grace felt chilled suddenly, as she remembered what Gabrielle had said the day before - _" the lecturer is a TOTAL babe, which helps...He totally seems to get me; I'm thinking of asking him out sometime... we have a lot in common - I'm taking his course, we both have red hair..." _Oh, God. The lecturer she wanted to hit on was August! And of course, no man could resist Gabrielle, according to Ally - and she was the most beautiful woman Grace had ever met. No, no, no. How horrible.

"Grace? Is something wrong?"

Grace looked up into August's loving blue eyes. "No...not really. Only...what do you think of Gabrielle?"

"How do you mean?" he demanded, surprised.

"As a person. I mean...do you think she's pretty...and stuff?"

August burst out laughing. "So that's where you're heading! No, Grace, I'm not interested in Miss Gabrielle Jessop in the slightest. Yes, she's very pretty, but I'm not into that sort of superficial beauty unless there's something underneath."

"But - I mean, she's not stupid, she must be really clever...it's not like she's some dumb bimbo, or anything," Grace said uncertainly.

"No, she's not. She's very clever, I grant you; her work is excellent, but when I said I wanted something underneath I meant character, Grace. Depth. Personality. Everything you have and Miss Jessop does not."

"Really?" Grace said, slightly reassured.

"Really really. Look, she's nice enough, and I know you're best friends with her sister, but..."

"But you don't want to date her."

"No, Grace. For one thing, I'm with you now, and even if I wasn't I'd never give her a second thought. Much as she might flirt with me," he grinned suddenly.

"Yeah, she said something like that," Grace admitted. "She wants to ask you out."

"Well, she'll have a long wait, in that case, because I," he wrapped his arms around Grace's waist, "am well and truly taken."

"Yes, you are," Grace whispered, and kissed him deeply. After a few minutes he pulled back.

"I think we'll have to continue this later. Much as I don't want to, I do have to prepare for that class. Though I don't know how much work I'll get done right now. And you have a class to get to as well, right?"

"Yes," Grace admitted reluctantly.

"Then I'll say farewell, fair Grace, until this afternoon. I'll be waiting for your call." He smiled a smile full of warmth, Grace smiled back, and he turned and walked off lightly. Grace felt weak at the knees suddenly, and caught onto the wall for support.

"Never felt _that_ before," she muttered, and smiled a secret smile to herself. Suddenly a sound penetrated her reverie and she realised her cellphone was ringing. It was her mother.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hey, Gracie. I just wanted to say hi and check if you're still coming home next weekend. I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No, it's fine, I'm between classes at the moment."

"Ok, good. So are you coming next weekend then?" Lily asked.

Grace considered. She didn't exactly have anything on, and she _had_ promised. On the other hand, that was before she'd met August; what if she wanted to spend the weekend with him? Now that she had him she didn't think she'd ever want to let him go. And a whole weekend away from him, unable even to talk about him...?

"Grace? Are you there?" Lily's voice came.

Grace prevaricated. "Mom, I'm not sure. I want to come, but there's something about an extra class or a field trip or something on that Saturday night...I don't know, nothing's been finalised. Can I find out and tell you later - like tomorrow, say?"

"Oh, sure honey." Lily sounded disappointed, and Grace felt extremely guilty. Still, her mother had Rick, and Zoë and Jessie at home, and Judy, probably...why shouldn't she stay with August if she wanted to? She was nineteen now, she was an adult, her mother couldn't expect her to be at home whenever she wanted. Still, she felt bad.

"I'll try my best, Mom. I do want to see you guys. I'll let you know by tomorrow, okay? And now I've got to go, I'm due at class."

"Okay, Gracie. Have a good class. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye, Mom." Grace hung up, and walked off to her class uncertainly. How was she going to hide her relationship with August from her family?

"Grace! Did you find the place okay?" Ally hailed her roommate as she walked into the bistro, looking around for her friends. "Here, over here."

Grace walked over to the corner booth where Ally was seated along with David and - oh, great, Gabrielle. Grace didn't particularly feel like seeing her. But she sat down and forced a bright smile. "Hey, you guys! No, it was easy, " she said in reply to Ally's question. "Your directions were great. And it is nice in here," she looked round appreciatively at the French-inspired decor. "I love the little umbrellas over the tables outside. Very picturesque."

"And just like France," remarked Gabrielle, who was sipping some sort of chic cocktail and looking as cool as a cucumber in a little blue sundress, which showed off her creamy, toned shoulders - and rather more cleavage than was necessary, Grace thought. Beside Gaby's trimness she felt hot, untidy and fat, even in her long green skirt and white tank-top. "I bet Gabrielle never gets untidy hurrying anywhere," she thought to herself.

"Drink, Grace?" David, a good-looking boy with spiky brown hair and an engaging smile just like Ally's, asked as the waitress hovered near.

"Oh - thanks. Orange juice, please," Grace said.

"Way to live dangerously," Ally grinned teasingly.

Grace felt stupid for a second and then laughed. "I think I'm already living dangerously enough in other departments, wouldn't you say?" she winked at her roommate, who giggled and winked back.

"Oh yes? What's all this about?" demanded David, looking from Grace to his sister and back again.

"Grace has-"

"Ally!" Grace kicked her under the table.

"Don't worry, Grace. All I was going to say was that you have a new, Secret Boyfriend."

"Oh really? Tell us more," said David, looking impressed, and even Gabrielle looked interested. Probably thinks I could never get a guy, Grace thought to herself. She grinned suddenly. Well, sucks to Miss Gabrielle, because she, Grace, had the very man Gaby was after, and there was nothing she could do about it. So there, Miss perfect cleavage and long legs.

"Come on, Grace! Who is it?" David said again, with nothing but friendly interest in his voice. Contrary to Lily's hopes, there had never been anything but friendship between Grace and her roommate's twin brother. He liked her a lot as a friend, someone to talk to and tease and hang out with, but that was about it. They both went for different types, and they both knew it.

"Oh, just some guy. I used to know him and we bumped into each other and we got together," Grace said, unable to keep the huge smile off her face. But the one thing she must remember not to say was where she knew him from, or what their previous relationship had been. It was just about okay that she was dating him now, but if anyone - Gabrielle, for instance - knew what had transpired between them two years before, things could get very awkward. People might not believe that they hadn't been dating all along, for one thing. Fortunately neither David nor Gaby seemed interested in how she'd met this secret boyfriend, and Grace knew she could trust Ally to keep her secret. Their eyes met over the table and Ally nodded imperceptibly.

"Well, that's really cool, Grace," David said. "So when do we get to meet this wonderful guy?"

"Well, actually, he's -" Grace stopped. Oh, bugger. August was supposed to be coming to meet her here, which was great, except that she hadn't expected Gabrielle to be with her. Still - why not? August didn't want Gabrielle, he wanted Grace. He'd made that abundantly clear. So why shouldn't Gabrielle find out about it? She'd certainly find out sooner or later; might as well be sooner. She continued hurriedly, "He's coming here to meet me after lunch; we're going to his house. Which reminds me; I'm supposed to call and let him know where to meet me when we're finished. He wasn't sure if this was the restaurant he was thinking of, and neither was I, of course." She fished out her phone and pressed August's number which she'd already programmed into speed-dial. It rang twice and then he answered.

"Grace of my heart."

"Hey." Grace couldn't help but smile broadly at the sound of his voice, and the three siblings exchanged knowing glances and pretended to lean closer and listen in. Grace batted them away with her serviette.

"So, where are you? Is it _Pierre's_?" he asked.

"Yeah," Grace replied. "I guess if you come at about - two - that should be okay. We should be done by then. Hang on a sec -" she covered the mouthpiece and mouthed, "What?" at Ally, who was trying to say something.

"I'm just saying, I've got class at two-fifteen, so we'll probably be done just before two," Ally said. "I've got to drop Gaby back at her apartment first, because we all came in my car."

"Okay." Grace uncovered the phone. "Um, yeah, we'll be done just before two, Ally says. She has to drop off her sister before class."

"Ah. The infamous Gabrielle is there, too?" August said, sounding amused.

"Yeah."

"That should be interesting," he said. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Grace said, almost surprised at herself. "Suddenly I don't care what she thinks anymore."

"That's my girl. I can't wait to see you."

"Me neither," Grace said. "Bye." She hung up.

"Nice goofy grin," David commented airily. "And nice hickey, too." He and Ally burst out laughing. Grace, who had forgotten about the love bite, pulled her hair over it quickly. "Shut up, you two," she said exasperatedly.

"So who is it you don't care about?" Ally demanded.

"What?"

"On the phone. You said you don't care what _she_ thinks anymore. Who is she?"

"Oh - no one. Just some girl. It's not important. I'm starving, let's order! Crêpe Suzettes all round?"

"How did you guess?" David twinkled.

"Oh, I don't know - maybe because you have them every chance you get?" Grace said dryly. Everyone laughed, and Grace was startled to realise what she was feeling - total, absolute contentment.

An hour later the crepes were eaten, plates smeared with syrup, sugar, cream and chocolate sauce laying testament to the feast they had just had. David leaned back and sighed.

"Ouf! I'm stuffed! I can hardly breathe."

"Well, don't even think of unbuttoning your jeans; there are ladies present," drawled Gabrielle.

"What? Where?" David looked around wildly, and Grace thumped him on the arm.

"Okay, okay! You win!" he held his hands up. "I give up, oh mighty one."

"Oh God," Gabrielle said suddenly.

"What? What's wrong?" Ally said.

"The guy - my Lit lecturer - the one I told you about. He just came in!" Gabrielle whispered. Grace smiled complacently, but her back was to the door and she didn't dare turn around yet.

"Oh, God, he's coming this way. And I just ate like a hundred crepes. Do I look fat?" she demanded of her sister.

"Relax, sis. You look as svelte as usual," Ally drawled. Then she looked up and her eyes widened as she recognised August nearing the table. She looked wildly from Gaby to Grace. Grace smiled back, just as she heard his voice behind her.

"Hello."

Gabrielle straightened up and crossed her legs elegantly. "Oh, hello, Mr Dimitri," she purred. Grace rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Gabrielle, hi." Grace heard August say, and then felt his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down towards her face. She turned her head sideways to meet him, and they kissed - slightly longer and more lingering than they would normally have, but they were both rather enjoying showing Gabrielle up. Sure enough, when they separated, Gabrielle's eyes were like soup-plates and her mouth was open in a most unladylike fashion. August pulled over a chair from the next table and sat down next to Grace. He waved mildly at Ally.

"Hi, Ally. Nice to see you again."

"You too, August," Ally choked, for she had caught on to the joke, and was enjoying it thoroughly. She loved her sister, and didn't begrudge her any happiness, but sometimes her complacency that she could have any man she wanted was rather annoying. Only David had no idea what was going on. August leaned across Grace, who was between them, and extended his hand to David.

"Hi, I'm August, Grace's boyfriend. You must be David."

"Yeah. Hi, it's great to meet you," David said sincerely, a little thrown at how old the secret boyfriend was, but recovering himself admirably.

"You too." August pulled his hand back and settled it on Grace's leg. He looked across at Gabrielle, who looked more uncomposed than anyone had ever seen her.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," he remarked conversationally.

"Um, no," she replied coldly.

"Gabrielle is in my comparative literature class," he explained jovially to Ally and David. "I hadn't realised she was your sister. I'm sorry about this morning, by the way," he directed his comment to Ally.

"Eh? Oh, it's quite all right. At least I don't sleep in the nude," she twinkled back.

"Just as well. I liked your Eeyore pyjamas, though," he responded swiftly. Grace felt laughter building up in her, and she hid her face behind a serviette. She caught Ally's eye and winked. Gabrielle looked so thoroughly nonplussed, so caught off guard, with just a little bit of anger thrown in. It was such a wonderful picture.

_Where's my camera when I need it?_ Ally thought to herself. "Oh, thanks," she responded to August's comment. "Maybe we could get Grace a pair, if you like."

"Hmmm, we'll see about that," August smiled wickedly, looking Grace up and down, contriving to convey to everyone present exactly what sleeping attire he'd prefer Grace to be in. She blushed, and Gabrielle looked livid.

"Well, ladies - and gentleman - ," August said, "it was a pleasure to see you all, but I need to steal Grace away now. And it's just on two o'clock, weren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

Ally gave a squawk. "My God! Yes, I've got class. Grace - I'll see you later, right? August, it was nice to see you again. Come on, you two."

"Nice to meet you. Bye, Grace," said David.

"Bye." said Grace, getting up. "Bye, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle made a noise that could have passed for a goodbye, and then the siblings had left. Grace and August burst out laughing.

"Oh, my God! That was priceless! The most brilliant thing ever," Grace gasped.

"Why, thank you."

"And the Eeyore pyjamas..." and she burst out laughing again.

"Well, they _were_ nice," August said innocently. "And now that we're alone, what do you say we make tracks for my house?"

"Sounds like perfection," Grace replied.


	6. Chapter 6

It reminded her of his house back home, Grace decided. The same books, same cds in the same cd rack, same coffee table – well, of course he would have the same furniture, naturally. He'd only moved; it wasn't like he'd been exiled or evacuated in a hurry. She wandered around the living room, running her hand along the spines of the books, savouring their smell. His smell. There again was the picture she remembered from before – August as a teen, smiling shyly in his cap and gown. And then, next to it – Grace picked up a simple wooden frame in surprise. The picture it contained was one that Rick had taken at the cast party at their house after the final performance of _As you like it_. There she was, right in the middle, behind the cake, Lily next to her, beaming with pleasure. She'd been so proud that night. There was Tad on Grace's other side, grinning cheekily, and then Jessie, with Katie's arm around her shoulder. And there was August, standing behind Jessie, but his eyes not quite meeting the camera; he was glancing down and to his left – at Grace, sitting there, smiling but not quite smiling. Smiling with her mouth but not her eyes. She'd never forgotten that night. She'd arrived home abysmally late, drenched from the rain, having made sure she'd missed most of the party, and there he was, suddenly telling her all these amazing things – and then there had been that moment where he had looked into her eyes and she into his over a plastic cup of wine.

"I took it out last night," Grace heard August's voice behind her. He had entered from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. He handed one to her. "I had it out for a while, a few weeks – after it was taken – I thought it was a nice reminder of a great play, you know -"

"I never saw it in your house when I came over," Grace interrupted.

"No, you wouldn't have. I took it down and put it away - hid it in a drawer – when I realised that I was starting to have feelings for you. That I was looking at it nearly every minute I was home just so I could see you."

Grace was taken-aback. "But – but you were seeing me at school everyday. How is that different?"

"It just is. It's a terrible thing, Grace, to be left alone with your thoughts, your dreams, your wishes – when you know they can never come true. Well, you know how that is. At school I could play a part, me in the role of the teacher, you as the student, and in the context of the classroom, it worked for me. Up to a point. That's part of the reason I didn't want to have the gay-straight alliance thing at my house to begin with. It broke too many boundaries. That photo was sitting on my desk, right by my computer, and I was always looking at it, distracted by it. Fantasizing over it."

"You fantasized about me?" Grace said incredulously, but unable to keep from smiling.

"Not one of my proudest admissions, but yes," he said, self-deprecatingly. "Obviously it was wrong; you were my pupil and I was your teacher, but I couldn't help the feelings I was beginning to have for you. The day you suggested having the gay-straight alliance meeting at my house – the first time I gave you a ride home - I came home and put that photo away, in a bottom drawer. I never looked at it again until I packed up my house to move – and then I just shoved it in a box, hoping I'd never want to see it again. But I knew inside that I would, of course – otherwise I'd have just thrown it out to begin with."

"I know. It's the same with me and the Chekhov."

"You still have the Chekhov?" he looked pleased.

"Of _course_ I still have it! It – it meant to much to me, at a point in my life when no one, not even my mother, understood me like you did. It still means so much to me."

"I'm glad, Grace. After I wrote that inscription I went through such hell, you have no idea. I felt so incredibly – stupid, and guilty, because I wanted you to know how I felt, but I'd never been able to say it in words, and then when I took down the book to give to you it just occurred to me that that was a good way – and a permanent one – of letting you know that I felt…the same way I knew you did. So I did it. And then I spent the next few days in utter agony in case something went wrong; what if your mother found it, or your stepsister, or one of your friends, and I thought I was going to go insane. I started envisioning myself breaking into your house and stealing it back…but then, of course, Alexa did her little spying thing and your mother and everyone found out anyway. Though never about the book, thank God. That might have been impossible to…explain away."

"My mother did see the book, August," Grace said quietly.

"What?" He was shocked. "When? Afterwards?"

"No. The day before that stupid meeting, the day I came over to your house with my story and we – kissed," she paused and smiled crookedly, "when I got home my mother had, like, torn my room apart. When she'd got home and found I wasn't there she guessed I was with you, and she went totally insane. I think she was looking for evidence that everyone was right, because she hadn't really believed it up till that point."

"And she found it," August said wryly. "But then why – why didn't she _say_ anything?"

Grace shrugged. "I'm still not sure. To be honest, we never spoke about it again. I thought at the time that it was just that she didn't want to hurt me any more, or make things look worse for me than they already did. But I think that, deep inside, she knew. That what we had was…special. And that if she'd told those - jerks - about the book it would have made it all seem so dirty, somehow. And so she didn't say anything. I think she wanted to let me keep a tiny piece of...of _us_. Even though she was really mad at you."

"She was pretty mad," August said, putting his glass of wine down on the table. He hadn't touched it.

"Yeah. But I think she also understood, even if she didn't want to admit it. And she _really_ didn't want to."

"Your mother," August replied, taking Grace's glass and putting it down as well, "is a remarkable woman. Well, she would have to be, to have created an amazing person like you." He moved closer and encircled his arms around Grace's waist. "Oh, Grace, if you only knew how many fathom deep I am in love…"

"I do know," she responded. "Because I am too."

And then they were kissing again, deeply, passionately, as though they could never stop. His hands found his way up the back of her tank-top, and rubbed smoothly against her bare skin. Grace shivered; it felt delicious.

"I think," August said, nuzzling into her neck, "I think you said once before that you wanted to see my bedroom."

"That hasn't changed," Grace murmured, pushing her mouth hungrily against his. He pulled away suddenly and stepped backwards.

"Are you sure? Grace, are you one hundred per cent sure? Because I refuse to pressure you into anything, even though I've already been accused of it," he said, smiling.

"Trust me, I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she said. "And it's not because I want to get back at my mother, or those people, or the kids at school who whispered behind my back my entire senior year. I want to, just because I want to. Because I've waited more than two years for this. And because I love you."

"I love you too, Grace." And he gathered her up in his arms and carried her down the hall.

"What are you thinking about?"  
It had begun to rain while they were in bed, and now Grace was lying on her side watching the water stream heavily down the bedroom window. August leaned over  
and rested his chin on her shoulder.  
"You okay?"  
"Mmm." Grace stretched her body a little. "I'm fine...I was just thinking about that night in my kitchen back home...you know, at the cast party?"  
August did know. That very dangerous night he would never forget.  
"I was thinking about what you said to me," Grace continued. "That I was finally open and honest - in my performance that night. Did you mean it?"  
August kissed her bare shoulder. "Yes. I meant it. Why would you think I didn't?"  
"I didn't...well, I wasn't sure. You were acting a bit - strange, that night, but I felt strange too, so I wasn't sure if it was you or me, and then there was the wine, and I wasn't sure how much you'd had -"  
He burst out laughing at this revelation. "You thought I was drunk?"  
"I don't know...weren't you?" Grace evaded the question.  
"No. I wasn't. Okay, I'd had a glass before you came in. A very large glass." He chuckled. "Which I'd topped up twice. Okay, maybe I was a little tipsy. But I knew what I was saying, Grace. Your performance that night - it touched me, so deeply. I was astounded. I could never make that up, no matter how drunk I was. Believe me."

Grace turned over on to her other side, and faced him. "And what about everything else you said? Did you mean that, too? Like - when you said you were a fraud, that you could never do what I did."  
August sighed. "Let me explain something, Grace. The night before that, when I got so angry at you, and said all those horrible things, it wasn't so much you I was angry at, as myself. Everything you did, the way you saw things, interpreted things, your outlook on life, your expectations - when I looked at you I saw myself at your age. And - it scared the hell out of me. Everything you did, I'd done. I didn't let myself show, either. Even with the poetry. I _thought_ that's what I was doing, that here was a way I could really bare my soul, I convinced myself that's what I was doing, but deep down I knew that all I really had was a knack for making people believe that I was touching them."  
"What? No, your poems, they meant everything!" Grace protested. "I've never felt that close to - to myself, as when I read them-"  
"Ah, but that's what I was saying," he said gently, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I wrote those poems when I was pretty much in the same place as you were back then. I knew how to manipulate people into believing that I was being this wonderful, outspoken, honest talent. But I knew I wasn't. I knew I was a fraud. And then you came along, and you bought into that lie. Because you did the same every day. And I was so afraid for you, Grace."  
"Afraid for me?"  
"Yes. You didn't see the lie, because you were getting too good at convincing yourself of what the truth should be. And then I saw you doing the same in the play; showing just enough to let people think you were being open, and brilliant, but actually not letting  
anything show at all. And I was the only one who could see it. I saw you going down the same road as I had, ending up with nothing, doing nothing, not writing, not acting, nothing with any truth in it at all. And I was so angry that I'd let myself do it, that I got  
angry at you - because I couldn't bear to let you do it too. I had to save you, Grace of my heart. So I said those horrible, hurtful things, and I felt like an absolute monster. When I got home that night I just lay in bed and cried."  
"You did?" Grace said incredulously.  
"I did. I loved you and I hurt you. And I couldn't explain that to you, and that hurt even more. And then on the final night - you were so wonderful, I couldn't tear my eyes away from you. Back at your house, I waited and waited for you, and you didn't come, and I guessed you were avoiding me...that's when I went to find something a little heavier than coke and kool-aid - to try and forget what I was thinking."  
"So you _were_ trying to get drunk," Grace said slyly.  
August laughed. "Maybe I was. And then - there you were, and I had to tell you all these things I'd kept hidden inside myself for so long. So I did. And then I got scared, and I tried to run away from you as much as I could after that. Obviously it didn't work."  
"No," Grace smiled. "Thank you for telling me this, August. I've been thinking about it constantly ever since, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to ask you."

"You can ask me anything, Grace. We can be totally honest now."

Grace nodded. "I know. There's something I have to tell you too, about that night. You asked me how I did it; how I let everything show, and I said it was because of what you said. And that was true. But there was something else to it...my stepbrother - Eli - he kept promising he'd come to the play. The night after you'd said – those things - he was so great. He comforted me, he believed in me, and he promised he'd come to the play and help me through it by being there. And then..he didn't show. I figured he was with some girl. Like she was more important than I was. And I was so angry; I thought I couldn't go on. But then I remembered two things - that you'd said I wasn't being honest onstage, and that you'd always told me to use whatever I was feeling in my performance. And I figured here was my chance to do both - to use my anger in the play and to just let it all out there. And so I did."  
"And that's all I wanted from you," August said softly, and he kissed her, rolling her over onto her back and lying on top of her, his hands holding hers above her head. "Well, maybe not _all._ This would have been nice too." He smiled.  
"Well, you've got it now," Grace replied.

"I know, and I couldn't be happier. I've never been happier."  
"Me neither. You know, August...that was my first time."  
"I know." He kissed her gently on the lips. "Are you...I mean, do you feel all right?"  
"Perfect. In fact," she grinned wickedly, "I think I could do with a second time."  
"I think I could arrange that," he responded, suiting action to the word by leaning down and kissing her deeply. 


End file.

Once and Again, Family, Romance