Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  I loved that about Leo. He got me. What I really loved about Leo was Leo. What I loved about Briggs was Briggs. They were so different. Thinking about them, I knew a way I could be cheered up and get out of this “my career is over” funk, and they were both coming over later. Thank God. Whatever plans Gavin Greenwick had to squelch these rumors were fine by me, because my mind was on much different, much hotter plans. It was crazy-strange how my career hung in the balance, but yet, I still couldn’t get my mind and ummm other body parts away from Leo and Briggs.

  I basically just wanted this mess to go away. I didn’t want to fix it, deal with it, or anything. I just wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. Jasper knew that was my typical coping mechanism with life’s challenges and disasters. However, he and Gavin forced my attention back to them and back to the problem at hand. I needed to make a statement, a public statement no less, saying that I have never, ever, engaged in any type of inappropriate behavior with a student.

  Current student, that is.

  Underage student, that is.

  I needed to call my superintendent and my union representative before they came to me. I had to be proactive now, fighting off the evils before they came looking for me.

  Damn Vince.

  Damn Marcus.

  If Marcus hadn’t slept with Lauren…

  If Vince hadn’t seen Leo sucking my finger…

  If… If… If Professor Greenwick could put a memory charm on everyone, then everything would be perfect.

  Professor Greenwick was pretty certain that since this was all hearsay that my career would not be in jeopardy, but he promised Jasper that he’d make sure I was safe from public ridicule and legal charges. I wondered how much money Jasper paid him, because Professor was awfully willing to do whatever Jasper asked. Hell, he’d dropped everything yesterday on a moment’s notice to be at the pool house. On a Saturday, no less. My brother must have him on an awfully steep retainer. Jasper was rolling in cash. I’d love to know what he was really worth.

  Once I agreed, more like swore, to make the necessary phone calls, Professor and Jasper decided to leave me alone to handle the correspondences without them hovering. It took quite a bit of convincing, but they left, deciding to have an early lunch to discuss matters involving Garrity Advertising.

  When they left, I did exactly what I really planned to do. I laid on the couch and watched back-to-back episodes of Charmed on TNT and three straight episodes of The New Adventures of the Old Christine on Lifetime, proving yet again that I’m in fact a master of procrastination, a topnotch skilled staller.

  As I was settling in for a Desperate Housewives trifecta with half a gallon of cookies-n-cream ice cream, my cell phone rang, startling me. Looking down, my heart stopped, seeing the number of my high school in the display window. Damn, I should’ve called them first. And I didn’t even get one bite of my ice cream. This day sucked. I hit the button, answering the phone.

  Here we go.

  After hanging up, I called Jasper and told him that I was meeting with my principal, the superintendent, and a union representative at 3:00 p.m.—on a Sunday. A Sunday during the summer? This couldn’t be, could not be, good at all. School officials didn’t work during the summer, let alone on Sundays. Holy Godiva, I was going to lose my job, and lose it today.

  Fuck.

  On a Sunday, no less. I guess that’s pretty appropriate for an adulterer. Sins must be acknowledged on the Sabbath. Oh my God, my life is over.

  Jasper said he’d call Gavin, and they’d meet me in the front parking lot at 2:30 p.m. God, I hoped the Professor could get me out of this, saving my career and reputation. I immediately called Jocelyn, begging her to come over, help me get ready, and calm my ass down. She was always the voice of reason and could talk me down off the ledge. I needed her, badly.

  JASPER AND GAVIN were waiting for me when I pulled into the lot. My stomach was doing a number on me. Jasper hugged me and asked if I was doing okay. I nodded, not convincing him or myself at all for that matter.

  “Nelle, we’ve got this. You’re going to be fine.” Jasper encouraged.

  He was starting to sound like a broken record. Did people still say that these days? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t know what to replace that thought with. “Man, he sounded like an iPod stuck on repeat?” Nah, it just didn’t have the same ring to it. Gavin, the professor, interrupted my outdated lingo analysis, bringing me back to my depressing doom.

  “Just don’t answer any questions unless I give you the okay,” he explained, looking at his notes. “If they’re on a witch hunt, then they can twist anything around.” His words made my stomach lurch. I hoped I could get through this without having to run to the bathroom.

  Gavin, Jasper, and I started to walk in, when my union representative, Tim Reinbrecht, pulled in. We waited for him. He was a good teacher, who hated the administration, the parents, politicians, and basically the general public. The only people he tolerated and actually liked were a handful of other teachers and his students.

  His students adored him and looked up to him. Being in this mess, he was a bittersweet ally to have on my side. He was loud, crass, hysterical, and basically loathed by the administration, which he prided himself on. Contrastingly though, when it came to a protecting a teacher or standing up for his students, he was a superhero, never backing down. I was afraid they hated him too much to side with him, but I was also afraid to not have him in my corner.

  “Janelle Flowers, teacher extraordinaire, I never thought I’d be here for you,” he said, hugging me quickly. Despite his rugged and volatile demeanor, he was a teddy bear of a man, snuggly and warm. Thankfully, he could be vicious when necessary.

  “So, you’re shtupping some students, eh?” he laughed, shaking his head, “How fucking stupid are these people? Just look at you, hot as fuck, no 17-year-old could please a woman like—”

  Cutting him off, angrily, “I’m Janelle’s brother, Jasper, this is her attorney, Gavin Greenwick,” he said, offering his hand with a scornful look on his face. Despite our similar upbringing, Jasper got rich and turned to the other side. He was no longer an advocate of unions or anything unions represented. I was impressed he even offered his hand. In Jasper’s eyes, Tim represented everything that was wrong with modern society.

  Chuckling, Tim shook Jasper’s hand, and said, “You came armed, unnecessary, but fuck it, alright let’s do this.”

  “Tim,” I said, “What do mean, unnecessary?”

  “Hell,” he said, “they can’t do anything to you. They’ve no proof. It’s all shit-talk.”

  Tim motioned me toward the door, “Unless you made a video sucking off the lacrosse team, I think you’re good.” I turned five shades of crimson, shaking my head in embarrassment. I heard Jasper groan. He never could handle hearing me talk or refer to anything sexual in nature. He’d forever be my protective older brother.

  Gavin and Tim explained that since there was no actual evidence that I was pretty safe. It was just a matter of “he said, she said.” Tim said that I’d probably have to write my version of the situation involving Marcus, explaining just how this mess snowballed.

  Under no circumstances, Tim decided and Gavin agreed, was I to tell the administration about my summer flings with Briggs and Leo. They were former students, but were consenting adults. My affairs with them were of no concern or relevance to this situation. However, if they knew about Briggs and Leo, then I was not to lie, but not offer up any other information either. I didn’t quite understand how Leo and Briggs weren’t pertinent to the case. Yes, I’d been sleeping with them, but not when they were kids. I felt that omitting that information would be lying, making me appear guilty if it ever came out.

  Pausing before opening the door, Tim, my union rep, said, “You’re a great teacher, beloved, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I just have one question first,” I said. Everyone turned to me, awaiting my inquiry. “Jasper, do you have gel in your hair?” Again, he rolled his eyes
at me, shoved me through the doorway, and walked into the building. I heard the Professor and Tim snicker at my incredible ability to embarrass my brother—even in extreme situations.

  “THAT’S IT?” CHAR asked incredulously. “You’re not getting fired?”

  Char and I met at a local bar after she showed some potential buyers a house they couldn’t and wouldn’t ever buy. She hated those clients and always needed a drink (or five, but who’s counting?) after dealing with them.

  “Yep, that’s it.” I explained.

  I was so relieved that I didn’t have to lie or omit anything either. My principal knew everything about Leo and Briggs. She was completely informed and totally annoyed with the people who blew this out of proportion, interrupting her summer months. She did say that by law she’d have to look into matters, and speak one-on-one with Vince and Marcus. I gave her their cell phone numbers and addresses. At one point, my superintendent rolled his eyes, said that he didn’t have time for such absurd matters, and walked out. I got the vibe that my principal and the superintendent didn’t always see eye-to-eye on certain issues. She was more annoyed with him than either of them was with me. I couldn’t believe it. I was in the clear.

  “I can’t believe your school is letting you fuck… do… I mean do your students,” Char squealed. “I’m going back to school to be a teacher for sure. I’d drop my panties for a few of those high school guys any day.”

  “You’re fucking unbelievable, Char,” I said, sipping my margarita. “They’re not letting me have sex with students, you asshole.” Char loved when I called her, and other girls, assholes. It always made her laugh.

  “Sucks. Damn educational system takes the fun out of everything,” she whined.

  “That is unless you’re teaching how fun things can be in the bedroom; those are some hot-ass lessons.” I teased.

  “Right, as long as you meet the state standards,” she joked. “And yeah, speaking of those boys, what eager beaver eater are you going to choose?” she asked, reminding me of how vulgar she could be… like I could ever forget.

  Nearly choking on my drink, “Did you just call my… my… boyfriends ‘eager beaver eaters’, really?” I asked. Char just lost it, laughing uncontrollably.

  “Did you just call them ‘your boyfriends,’ as in plural?” She could barely get the words out, laughing harder. “You’re one lucky-ass whore… dang it… I mean lucky-butt whore.”

  Eyeing her suspiciously, “I learned from the best,” I countered, and we clinked our glasses and downed our drinks. With that, we ordered another round and some nachos. I needed my energy if both guys were coming over later to discuss our contract. God damn it, it had been way too long since either one of those “eager beaver eaters” were anywhere near where I needed them and wanted them to be. If my prayers were answered, there’d be a lot more going on than just contract negotiations.

  AFTER LUNCH, CHAR and I went shopping for a sexy little number to wear for the evening with Briggs and Leo. Every time I tried on clothes, Char sat in the dressing room inspecting and rating each item that I put on. It always made me a little uncomfortable. I have zero notions or inclinations of exhibitionism. There was no escaping her though; modesty and privacy were not words she coveted or cherished.

  “That bra makes your tits… boobs… I mean boobs… look great,” she complimented, making me feel very self-conscious and on display.

  “Alright bitch, what gives?” I asked, needing to get to the bottom of this.

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “That is the third fucking time you’ve corrected yourself when you swore. What’s with the new saintly diction?” I asked.

  “Nothing, just trying to be a little more ladylike and less vulgar,” she explained.

  “What the fuck ever. Seriously, what’s going on?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Really. With real estate in the shitter… toilet… with real estate in the toilet… I need to make sure I’m as polished and professional as I can be,” she said as she took her shirt off. Putting on one of the shirts I’d just tried on, she said, “I’d kill for a rack like yours though. You look great in everything.”

  “Oh please, I can’t wear cute little tight t-shirts like you do, because these things are always vying to escape and kill someone,” I laughed, pushing my boobs together like weapons of mass destruction. Okay, maybe I wasn’t all that modest. Char brought out the “bad girl” in me.

  “Those babies could kill someone,” she stared at me, shaking her head in disbelief. “Mine, they just hide inside and hope it’s not some nuclear holocaust,” she lamented. Char always complained about her chest size. On a good day, usually the second week of the month, she was a full B-cup. Her B-cup was the espresso cup to my double venti. Christ.

  Char’s gorgeous, like drop-dead, I-want-to kill-her-in-her-sleep, gorgeous. She was by far the hottest girl in our sorority, but according to her, her flat chest was her biggest flaw. I didn’t think that she lacked anything; everything was in proportion. Char had long, naturally blond hair, the type of hair that people pay hundreds of dollars to emulate, but never even come close to imitating. She’s a little taller than the average girl with a tiny waist, sculpted thighs, calves, and arms, and a tight stomach. Char certainly wasn’t hurting in the beauty department. I think our popularity in college was primarily due to her, but we also complemented each other well. If guys weren’t into the tall blonde girl, then they often steered toward me, the small brunette. We had the market covered.

  “Speaking of which, how much more do you need to save?” I asked. “You’ve got to be getting close now.” Ever since I met Char, she’d been contemplating getting a boob job. Two years ago, she started an “I just want to wear a strapless shirt” fund for her breast augmentation surgery. If she saved the way she’d originally planned, Char would be having surgery by the end of October.

  “Ummm, I’m not sure. I think we should use that money and go on a cruise,” she stated, flooring the fuck out of me.

  “What? You’re giving up your dream ta tas for all-you-can-eat shrimp cocktail and adorably-folded towels? I’m dumbfounded,” I joked.

  “You underestimate the love one could have for a folded swan,” she swooned. “I don’t know; I’m just over the big-boobed craze.”

  “Alright Char, whatever you say… whatever you say.” I knew this was just her fear talking again. She’d be back to dropping money in her Victoria’s Secret box again, dreaming of the Double Ds. There was no way, my crazy Char was throwing in the titties for a folded up terrycloth turtle.

  I PUT ON my new sundress before Leo and Briggs showed up. Char insisted that I needed something short and flowy, but crazy sexy. I bought a dress at the little boutique where she always bought her “out on the town” clothes. I was surprised that not every item in the store didn’t scream “come fuck me.” Char picked a red dress for me that sweetly whispered “you could do some hot things to me tonight if you’re nice.”

  It was an understated sexy red dress that tied around the neck, dipped low in the back, and hit about mid-thigh. She was right; it was the perfect dress. Char always made me wear red, claiming that red was my color with my dark hair and tanned skin. I preferred purple, but she thought guys associated anything purple with Barney. Guys aren’t hot for Barney, she’d say. Who could argue with that logic?

  Char was pushing hard-core for Briggs. She believed that he had everything I needed. Personally, I think she just wanted me to have him, because she knew with the girlfriend code, she never could now. Char was hoping for a vicarious rendezvous with Briggs, since the last one ended with a head-to-head video game battle with my interruption bringing even the fun of Xbox to a screeching halt. She nearly salivates at the mention of his name. I loved her for not jumping on the chance to jump on him. She really was a true and loyal friend.

  At any mention of Leo’s name, she’d roll her eyes and wave her hand at me, as if he was not of any concern. Sarah, my newest friend, was pulling for Leo
. Sarah was taken by Leo’s nerdy-boy-gone-stud transformation. Sarah was a bleeding-heart, always cheering for the underdog. In this case though, neither Briggs, nor Leo, was the underdog. Both brought quite a bit to the game, a game that was more than fun to play. And, I couldn’t wait to go all in tonight either.

  When I heard the knock, my skin tingled. I’d waited long enough. I opened the door, and Briggs was on me in a second. His mouth hungrily sought mine, devouring me. I had no desire to hold back, no feeling of restraint. I wanted him, needed him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he lifted me up. My legs wrapped eagerly around his waist; I could feel his erection straining against his shorts. I loved that he was hard on arrival. (HOA—way better than DOA) That was hot. Too hot. Wow. I rubbed myself on him, feeling the friction and heat between my legs.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he groaned into my mouth. “Goddamn.” Our breathing and desire increased. All the worry and frustration of the last few days were gone. All that mattered was that he was here with me, ready. And oh so freaking hot.

  Briggs nearly threw me on the couch. The look in his icy blue eyes made me squirm. I wanted him. There was no denying that. After our lessons last month, I knew what he had to offer, and it was an offer worth taking. He took off his shirt and started walking toward me, never taking his eyes from mine.

  “Jesus Christ,” Leo said through gritted teeth. “I can’t be three minutes late, for fuck’s sake?” Leo picked up Briggs’ shirt, handed it to him, patted his stomach, and said, “Looking a little soft, McConaughey, might want to lay off the junk food.” The shirtless McConaughey reference made me explode with laughter, only pissing off Briggs more.

  Briggs snatched his shirt back and put it on, “Fuck off Cling, soft my ass.”