Khadija got to see more of Azalea outside of class as the academic year progressed. When not making love, which they did with a passion and a desire that made Khadija worry whether it might not impact on the emotional strength of her marriage to Ahmed, the two of them would talk and talk. She enjoyed walking with Azalea along the river edge, dust blowing into their eyes from the plain, talking about Azalea's career ambitions and her own passion for literature.

She was pleased that Azalea understood how special to her was her relationship to Ahmed, and she confided (as she had never done before), that she sometimes felt jealous about her husband's own extramarital coupling with other students, both men and women. Somehow, she didn't mind the men so much. It was sex she couldn't readily imagine herself being part of. Though she was in no way loath to share when Ahmed brought a boy back for the evening. Two cocks were better than one, even if it was only Ahmed's she could always trust without a condom. Even when she was having sex with girls in her classes, she would sometimes feel a pang of jealousy that Ahmed might be doing the same thing with a boy or a girl at the same time.

However, it troubled her when Azalea spoke about Amber. The girl was so clearly besotted with her. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, nothing seemed to be able to shake Azalea's conviction that there was something special and romantic about their relationship. Even when she did end up having penises piss on her face while Amber shat on her chest. Even when she had to endure triple penetration, while Amber bit furiously into her nipples. Even when she was left at the end of a session of sexual passion feeling wasted and abused.

"Are you sure that you should be feeling so much towards Amber?" wondered Khadija. "There are so many other girls whom you could have relations with."

Azalea adjusted her glasses thoughtfully. "But it wouldn't be the same. I mean, Amber's not the only one. There's Khatama and Sooty Mounds and Anita. But it's different with Amber. I just feel much more for her. I just want to spend all my time with her."

"Does she talk with you like we do together? Does she go for walks with you in the park?"

"Not really. I can hardly ever be with her alone. There's almost always someone else there. Usually a crowd. Drinking. Smoking. Eating. That sort of thing."

"Smoking?" sniffed Khadija disapprovingly, but not wishing to pursue the subject. "But do you spend any time just with her alone?"

"Well, yes. When she wants to get to grip with something from her other studies. She's doing Film Studies, Sexual Stimulants and Heterosexual Relations. But she doesn't find studying easy."

"No. I suppose she wouldn't."

It probably didn't come as too much of a surprise to Khadija when, midway through the second term, she came home to find Azalea slumped outside her flat in jeans and tee-shirt, the lenses of her spectacles misted up, and looking extremely miserable. She looked up at Khadija standing over her, with tears streaking down a face made ugly by her weeping. Her eyes were blank and her hair was ruffled.

"What's wrong, Azalea sweetest?" Khadija asked.

"I told Amber that I loved her," Azalea sniffed.

Khadija let out a deep breath. She'd suspected as much. "And what did Amber say?"

"She told me that she didn't love me at all. She said she only wanted me for my body. She said she only made love with me because she enjoyed sex, not because she felt anything for me. She told me that if she'd ever fall in love with anyone it would never be with someone like me."

"Oh. You poor thing! You'd better come inside."

Khadija led Azalea in. And then more out of habit than intent, they took their clothes off and collapsed onto Khadija's bed, their naked arms around each other.

Ahmed watched them from the kitchen where he and a male student, both naked, were preparing some food. He smiled sympathetically at Khadija, and Khadija knew from his eyes that he wouldn't interfere.

"Amber said she didn't want to see me anymore. She said she didn't want me clinging onto her, or giving her any shit. She said she had better things to do than have to deal with emotional cripples. She was very cruel."

"Did she shout at you or anything?"

"No. Not at all. She was very matter of fact. She just told me to leave her, and if I didn't she'd just leave herself. And that was that."

"I see," murmured Khadija sympathetically.

She and Azalea made love. That was a given. But their lovemaking was desultory and lacked passion, although it was tender and gentle. Much of the night was spent with Azalea's arms around her shoulders while she stroked the unshaven bush of her unpierced vagina.

She could hear Ahmed and his student lover fucking in the other bedroom. Urgent. Passionate. Noisy. But that was for Ahmed. She, meanwhile, had a student to comfort, aware that Azalea was still passionate for Amber.

She learnt from the few encounters she had with Azalea over the following months, that despite being warned off, the student had approached Amber on several occasions. She also learnt that although these occasions sometimes resulted in sex, only by the greatest stretch of the imagination could it have been described as making love. Amber clearly preferred to abuse Azalea: pissing or shitting on her, or tying her up, or caning her, than providing her with the more tender love that Azalea preferred.

Azalea had stopped attending Khadija's classes, and out of guilt she started seeing less and less of her teacher who would, understandably, only upbraid her for neglecting her studies. Khadija discovered from other lecturers that Azalea was skipping her other classes as well. Her course-work suffered, dropping from first-class marks to virtually zero. She heard from one of Azalea's fellow students that she was spending most of her time in her college room by herself, just being depressed and lonely.

The last she saw of Azalea was whilst she was invigilating a written examination where the girl shuffled into the hall, sat at her desk and stared for nearly an hour at the examination paper and the unmarked sheets in front of her, chewing her pen but not using it to write with. She looked terrible. Her clothes were plain and unwashed, her hair had grown out into a mess, and her face had an empty hollow look to it. And she left before the examination was finished, shuffling off in bare feet and with her head dropped low.

So, it was no surprise at all to Khadija to learn that Azalea had failed her exams. Nor that she had chosen not to re-sit them.

Amber, however, did as well as expected. Not exceptionally well, except in her practical subjects where she truly excelled. Her future career, however, was not one that relied very much on her academic abilities. As the years passed by, Khadija was often to be reminded of her student as, for instance, in the supermarket, whenever she examined the racks of sex films to see those in which Amber starred and was rated especially high. On those occasions, it occurred to her that Azalea would also know of Amber's career success, and how this might still be another twist of the knife into her emotional corpse.
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