Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  “Mr. Kettering and I,” she said slowly, “met at the beach last May when I was a student at Wake Forest.”

  “Where I seduced her into bed and fucked her six ways till Sunday.”

  Vivi gasped, Mr. L. slammed the door, and Lane stood there owning every word. “I warned you,” he said, eyeing Vivi. “Do not pull your bossy teacher crap on me. I’m your boyfriend. Your lover,” he emphasized. “You treat me like I’m one of your second graders and all hell’s gonna break loose.”

  “I think we should all sit down,” Mr. L. said, his voice gruff and his attitude full-on no nonsense. He moved behind his desk and put on a pair of glasses, indicating that she and Lane should sit in the padded leather chairs in front of him, side by side. He sat as well.

  “Miss DuVal, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-one, sir.”

  “Mr. Kettering?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “And the two of you are involved romantically?”

  “Yes,” Lane said before Vivi could respond.

  Mr. L. looked in her direction. “We are involved romantically, yes,” Vivi agreed. “Although we haven’t seen each other in several months, and Mr. Ketter-Lane,” she corrected herself, “was unaware that I had taken a job here. I was under the impression that he was a senior in…well, elsewhere. So it was a surprise to both of us when I read his name on my class roster.”

  “Which is why I immediately walked out, came to the office, and requested to drop the class. I’m sure there are plenty of rules and regulations about teachers dating students, but Vivi isn’t my teacher, she’s never been my teacher, so we shouldn’t have a problem here,” Lane said.

  “Unfortunately,” Mr. L. said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, “that’s not exactly how it works. While she’s a teacher and you’re a student in the same school, whether in her Statistics class or not, the rules and regulations still apply.”

  “What if she worked at some other school?” Lane asked. “What if she were in Atlanta teaching second graders like I thought she was,” he said, throwing her an incredulous look, “and I was here, and we continued our relationship just as we planned, would there be a problem?”

  “No.”

  “What if she taught over at the high school in Henderson? Would our dating be a problem?”

  “No.

  “Then this is bullshit.”

  “Lane,” Vivi said, touching his arm wanting to calm him down.

  “Well, it is. Look Mr. Levendusky, I’m not an idiot. I understand I can’t announce to the community at large that I’m dating Wilson’s new statistics teacher. But the fact is we are dating. We’ve been dating. We are here in your office not lying about that.”

  “As much as I appreciate the candor, Mr. Kettering, you are putting me in a very precarious position. I am under an obligation to report any misconduct by my staff.”

  “And what sort of misconduct are you accusing Miss DuVal?”

  “I’m not accusing her of anything, Lane. At the moment I’m listening. I’m gathering facts. I’m weighing my options.”

  “Look,” Vivi spoke up. “I’ll resign. I understand about the rules and regulations, and I believe in them. And as much as I really want this job, I can’t rewind the clock. I could sit here and tell you we’ll break up-”

  “We’re not breaking up,” Lane interjected.

  Vivi motioned her hand toward Lane. “And he calls me the bossy one.” She gave Mr. L. a sad smile.

  He gave her one back.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” she said, standing. “I really am. I can stay on until you find someone else, or I can pack up my things right now and clear out of my classroom. I do not want to make this hard on either of you. The truth is I would never have taken the job if I’d known Lane was a student here.”

  Principal L. steepled his fingers and tapped them together over his desk. “Sit down, Miss DuVal. There’s no need to resign, at least not yet. Frankly, with one teacher taking early retirement at the last minute and another dropping out unexpectedly for cancer treatments, I need you filling the position I hired you for and then some. And, if I may be so crass as to admit, getting you at a first-year teacher’s salary really helped my budget. So, at the moment, I’d rather not lose you. On top of that, you’ve signed a contract for the school year. We’d have to look into how to release you from that without it marring your record or damaging your career.” Mr. L. looked over toward Lane. “Who else knows about the two of you?”

  “My buddy, Lam. But he’s not going to say anything.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “He’s trustworthy,” Lane snapped, irritated. “Besides, he’s got secrets of his own.”

  “Secrets of this magnitude?”

  Lane shrugged.

  “Hmm,” Mr. L. said.

  Silence fell as the principal seemed lost in thought.

  “I think we should inform Lane’s parents,” Vivi suggested quietly.

  “They already know about you,” Lane said.

  “They do?” she asked, pleased.

  “Of course they do. Maybe not as much as our principal does at the moment, but they know I’m crazy about a girl named Vivi DuVal from Henderson. The fact that you’re now my teacher will come as a surprise, but Tray will back us up.”

  “How is Tray?” she asked.

  “He’s good.” Lane smiled. “Enjoying being a newlywed.”

  Mr. L. cleared his throat.

  “Sorry,” Lane said. “Vivi and I haven’t actually seen each other in three months. And we only text on the first of the month.”

  “Well, I suggest you continue with the long-distance attitude. You certainly won’t be taking Miss DuVal to the prom.”

  “But she just might be chaperoning,” Lane said with a grin.

  “Mr. Kettering, I beg you to take this seriously. For Miss DuVal’s sake if not your own. Now, I have several other fires that need putting out, and you, son, should be on the practice field. Trust me, I’ll take Miss DuVal up on her offer to resign if there is a hint of you becoming distracted over this matter, letting it affect your grades or your football.”

  “Both of those are important to me, too, sir.”

  “All right. Let me say for now, I understand the two of you are bringing a unique situation to my attention, and frankly, I need to do some research in order to know how to properly proceed. In the meantime, Miss DuVal, I’d like you to consult legal counsel on your own. Let’s gather all the facts so we have a clear, concise picture of where we stand. Mr. Kettering, you will inform your parents about Miss DuVal’s new position here at school, and I’d like to meet with them and the two of you in one week’s time.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Vivi said, standing and offering her hand.

  “It’s not generous of me at all. I’m simply covering my ass. In twenty-five years, this is the first situation of its kind to come up. I simply don’t want to mishandle it. Mr. Kettering, you told me you’re not an idiot. Prove it. Information about your personal relationship with Miss DuVal does not leave this office. Are we clear?”

  “Perfectly, sir. If we could just have ten minutes alone to sort things out-”

  “Two minutes,” Mr. L. said, standing. “I was nineteen once. You get two. Two minutes alone. That is all.”

  Then he left.

  Lane and Vivi gazed at each other for a moment, their faces filled with humor and disbelief. Lane reached over and clasped her dangling fingers, entwining them with his own. “Mr. L. underestimates me.”

  “How so?”

  “We haven’t seen each other in three months. I could get us both off in two minutes if I had a condom in my pocket.”

  She laughed and then sighed. “I’m happy to know you don’t carry condoms in your pocket.”

  “I’m gonna start,” he warned.

  “Lane, this is serious.”

  “I know it’s serious. You ought to know by now that I’m nothing if
not protective of you Sleeping Beauty. So, this complete nightmare we’ve just awakened to, trust me, I am up to speed.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I thought you’d be psyched I was working for your alma mater. I thought it was so perfect,” she sighed. “Less distance between us, seeing each other more often.”

  Lane choked out a laugh. “We will definitely be seeing a lot more of each other.”

  “Hmm. So, what? Are you some sort of scholar athlete? Star of the Warrior football team?”

  “I’m the running back.”

  “And the college coaches looking at you?”

  “Mostly in state.”

  She sighed. “I like football.”

  “Good.”

  “But even if your parents are able to come to terms with you dating a teacher, my father is going to have a real problem with this.”

  “He doesn’t want his over-achieving, college-graduate daughter slumming it with a dumb high school jock?”

  “Are you kidding? Dumb high school jocks are his wheelhouse.”

  “So we shouldn’t have a problem then.”

  “Oh, there’s gonna be a problem. A big one. He and my uncles run the Henderson High Booster Club. And they are going to pitch one big fit when they catch me cheering for Oxford’s star running back.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lane and Vivi had decided to Skype each other after they told their respective parents about what was going on. Other than that, they had not discussed how they were going to handle this new twist to their relationship. One hurdle at a time, Vivi supposed.

  So she helped her mother, Charlotte, in the kitchen, playing sous-chef, setting the table, and suggesting they open a bottle of wine to go with her mother’s delicious meal, even if it was only a Wednesday night.

  Her mother, dressed for summer in a pretty pastel shift, stopped what she was doing and looked at Vivi. “You’ve worked one day and already you need a glass of wine with dinner? Are the kids over there in Oxford that bad?”

  “Ha,” Vivi spouted a laugh. “The kids are great. But one kid in particular has presented a…concern. A concern I need to discuss with you and Daddy. Trust me. A glass of wine will help this go down a whole lot better. In fact,” Vivi said as she took down some wine glasses from the cabinet, “you and I may want to start now.”

  “Oh, dear,” her mother said. “What in the world is this about?”

  “Lane Kettering,” Vivi said, eyeing her mother as she opened the wine.

  “Lane Kettering!” Her father’s voice boomed from behind her as he walked into the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear that name in this household. Damn kid is playing better this year than he did last. And Henderson is on an upswing now that we’ve wrestled Josh McCourt into using his computer skills to finagle some offensive plays. Still, he ain’t helping our defense none, and that is the concern against Wilson. With a running back like that Kettering kid, we are in trouble. Big trouble.”

  Jeb DuVal, always large and in charge, ended his tirade with a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “Sorry, sweetie. Just came from a Booster Club meeting where Kettering was all the talk. Apparently, he broke some record in last week’s game. I’m so sick of hearing about that kid. Been hearing about him and how great Wilson’s football program is for the last three years. The last thing I want to hear about when I walk inside this house is Lane Kettering.”

  Jeb turned to Vivi and went to give her a hug. “I’d much rather hear about daughter number two’s first day as a full-fledged teacher. Those heathens over there in Oxford treat you okay, sugar?”

  “Heathens?” Vivi’s nerves ratcheted up a notch. “Daddy…how ‘bout a glass of wine?” Vivi just went ahead and started pouring.

  “Wine? On a Wednesday? What are we, the Evans family? It’s not like we’ve got it stockpiled in a fancy wine cellar like that Hale does. I tell you, we had some damn good wine the night we raided that thing.”

  “It’s a wonder Hale Evans didn’t have you and your brothers arrested,” Charlotte said.

  “Gotta be proactive keeping family secrets secret,” Jeb claimed as Vivi handed him a glass. “So tell us, Vivi-de-bee, how bad was it for you being born and bred in Henderson and having to play nice with the riffraff over there in Oxford?”

  “Daddy, since the town of Oxford is now paying my salary, it might be appropriate for you to simmer down on the rivalry/hatred bit.”

  “Yeah-not gonna happen, sugar plum. Your uncles and I are third-generation Hendersonians. Hating Oxford is in our blood.”

  “Except when they hire your company to repave their streets, parking lots, and highways.”

  “Except for that,” he agreed with a big ol’ grin.

  “Jeb. Wash up. Come to dinner. Your daughter has something to tell us,” Charlotte said.

  Vivi watched as her mom downed half her wine and reached for the bottle to fill it back up. She toasted Vivi with the glass and drank again, eyeing her over the rim. “You’re right. This is going to go down a whole lot better with wine. Go on and open another bottle and put it on the table.”

  “So you’ve figured it out?” Vivi asked, doing her mother’s bidding.

  “I thought his name sounded familiar when you mentioned him this summer. But being as I don’t spend all my time worrying about Henderson football, it escaped me.”

  “Daddy’s gonna freak, isn’t he?”

  “Deep down inside, Daddy’s gonna love that you’re dating the star running back no one can stop talking about. After he gets over the fact that he’s playing for the devil’s team, and there is nothing your father can do about it, he’ll come around. Probably even brag about it.”

  “Oh, Lord. He can’t brag about it. He can’t tell anyone about it. I’m his teacher,” she emphasized.

  “Whose teacher?” Jeb asked, coming back into the room as her mother proceeded to spit wine into the sink.

  “Lord, woman. What’s got you all choked up?” Jeb said, coming over to soothe his wife by rubbing her back.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said, pushing him away. “Let’s fill our plates so we can sit down and hear all about Vivi’s first day at Wilson.”

  “Fine. Good. I’m starving.”

  Vivi let them get a few bites in before she eased into her day, talking about her first three classes and the kids in them. She talked a little about how it felt to actually be teaching, and how her nerves died down as the classes went on. She emphasized how nice the students from Oxford seemed, how respectful they were. Then she went on to say that looking back, she didn’t understand why there was such a heated rivalry between the two towns, being as the people over there looked identical to the people over here.

  “I mean, you and Mom aren’t judgmental people. I’ve never heard either of you blasting somebody about their age, race, or religion. I mean, you don’t worry about what’s going on behind the neighbor’s closed door, do you?”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” her dad said, wiping his mouth. “We are proud Henderson do-gooders. We judge everybody on everything. That’s how it’s done around here.”

  Vivi’s mouth dropped open. “Well, I know that’s how it’s done. I just didn’t think you two participated.”

  Her mother shrugged. Her father kept on eating.

  “Daddy, Josh McCourt, the man who is revamping your beloved football team, is from Oxford. That town is a stone’s throw away. This rivalry thing is crazy.”

  “You’re looking at it all wrong, Vivi-de-bee. The rivalry between our towns is a good thing. It’s what makes us want to be better. It’s why anybody gives a rat’s patootie about anything around here. There is one football game that matters every season. The one against Wilson. We beat them, we are town heroes for the next year, regardless of our record. What games drew the biggest crowds at Wake? Carolina, Duke, and N.C State. Those are the big rivalries. Because they are right down the street. Beat those teams and it’s a big, big night.”

  “Well, y
ou’re not wrong about that,” she said. Vivi sighed and took a sip of wine. “But, I’m getting off topic, I think. So, remember the guy I told you two about at the beginning of the summer? The one I met in Myrtle Beach right before graduation. The one from Oxford?”

  “The gay one, right? I didn’t remember him being from Oxford,” her father said, enjoying his meal.

  “No, Daddy. That was Kevin. From Wake. He broke up with me, right before the beach trip, which is where I met Lane.”

  “Lane?”

  “Lane,” she restated.

  “Lane, from Oxford?”

  “Correct.”

  “Not Lane Kettering from Oxford. Not the thorn in my side who has chewed our team up one side and down the other for the past three years.”

  “The very same, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, when Lane told me he was a senior this year, I mistakenly thought he was a senior in college. I assumed he went to Carolina because he was wearing a Carolina T-shirt. But that’s just where his brother went to law school. It turns out that Lane is a senior at Wilson. And not only is he the very same running back that you seem terribly obsessed with, but now he’s also a student of mine. In my Statistics class.”

  “Let me get this straight,” her father went on, seemingly searching for control. “This boy lied to you?”

  “No, Daddy, he didn’t lie. I…jumped to conclusions.”

  “He’s in high school for Christ’s sake,” he shouted.

  “Yes, he is. But I didn’t know that for the past three months. Since I was going to Atlanta, we agreed to keep our relationship light. He was going to tell me about still being in high school when I came home for Thanksgiving and saw him.”

  “So he lied to you.”

  “He’s two years younger than I am. He thought if I knew he was still in high school, I wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Well, you’re not. Interested. Are you?”

  “Daddy. Of course, I’m interested. And when you meet him, you’ll understand why.”

  “Meet him? I just told you I didn’t want his name mentioned in this house. I sure don’t want the kid traipsing through my kitchen dragging around all his championship trophies, rubbing his victories in my face.”