The Summer of Consent

by Jayne Marlowe

  In truth, Jill Oliver was one innuendo away from being told to fuck off to hell, but Nate didn’t want to stir the pot yet. He needed to get his textbook done first, and then he’ll set Jill straight.

  A movement in the corner of his eye made him look up, and on the other side of his desk stood Gloria, looking in the box of donuts. She raised her gaze and looked up at him in a decidedly less hostile manner than she did earlier.

  “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Take what you want. There’s plenty.”

  Still holding on to his gaze, she took her forefinger and stuck it into one of the éclairs, and with a crooked, impish smile said, “I claim that one.”

  She picked up a cake donut, spun on her heel, and returned to her desk. He grinned as she walked away.

  He had been forgiven.

  So, Ms. Oliver and Mr. Larsen talked about her over lunch. Dafuq! The revelation made Gloria cringe, embarrassed. That bitch! What else did Ms. Oliver tell him about her like it was any of his business? Just because she was a teacher didn’t give her the right to blab, especially now that it was old news. Ms. Oliver was obviously getting even for when Mr. Larsen invited Gloria to go to lunch with them.

  She knew he was just trying to be nice. Ms. Oliver had nothing to worry about. Gloria couldn’t compete with an experienced, pretty woman like her. But this breach in privacy made Gloria decide two things.

  One: she didn’t have to be intimidated by Ms. Oliver—Jill—or any faculty at Darning High. She was a graduate and not a student.

  Two: it was on like Donkey Kong. If Jill Oliver wanted to play some bullshit game thinking she could put Gloria in her place, she’d better think again.

  After spending her life with adults who took their failings and insecurities out on her to the point where it nearly destroyed her, she’d be damned if she was going to let anyone do that to her again. Gloria knew people thought that just because she was quiet she didn’t have a spine. If anything, living her life gave her a spine of steel.

  “What’s the matter, Gloria?”

  Startled, she looked up to see Mr. Larsen coming in from lunch.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Well, you’re beating that keyboard into submission. Don’t know why. You have a skilled touch.”

  She didn’t know how to take that—only because she wanted him to do grown-up things to her—dirty things. But she scolded herself for thinking it was anything more than a compliment.

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little preoccupied.”

  “Did you have your lunch?” He peered into the donut box. “And I don’t mean donuts.”

  “Yes, I’ve had my lunch,” she said like a nagged child, but with a smile. “I just sent you the document for Chapter Three.”

  “Damn, Gloria.” He chuckled. “If I didn’t know what still lay ahead with this monster, I’d say you’d have all the typing done next week.”

  He came over and sat on the corner of her desk and smiled down at her, his blue eyes bright and friendly. “Pace yourself. I don’t want you burning out. Believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  Gloria gaped at him for a moment, caught up in his eyes and his strong jaw with the slight cleft in his chin, and his lips where the lower one was slightly fuller than the upper one. She wanted to suck on that lower lip, nibble it. She blinked, closed her mouth, and looked back down at her computer screen.

  “Sure. No problem, Mr. Larsen.”

  “Nate.”

  She looked up again. “Beg pardon?”

  “Nate.” He smiled. “You can call me Nate. You’re not my student anymore, Gloria.”

  She swallowed. “Ahh, no. No, I guess I’m not...Nate.”

  “Good. Now that’s settled, how about a break from typing? I need your help to get some things done before class begins on Monday.”

  For the rest of the afternoon, they prepared dissection trays by putting black wax in them and taking inventory of supplies. They were out in the classroom. Nate sat on the floor counting textbooks while Gloria, perched on one of the lab tables, ticked items off a sheet until she looked up and realized something was wrong. It was dark.

  “Whoa. Did the sun go behind a cloud or something?”

  A loud clap of thunder proved her wrong.

  “Oh, man!” She got up and rushed over to the only window, a floor-to-ceiling window at the rear of the classroom. There she could see the dark storm clouds coming in from the west. No sooner did she get to the window did the heavens open and a cascade of water soon obscured her view.

  “Oh, no...,” she moaned. She leaned against the window with her arms above her, resting her forehead against the glass. “I knew I should’ve bought my umbrella today.”

  “Maybe it’s only a quick shower,” came Nate’s voice directly behind her.

  She spun around and he was only inches away, any closer and he’d be in her personal space. She could smell his sandalwood scent. He was looking over her head and out into the storm.

  “If not, I’ll give you a lift. No worries.”

  He turned and went back to where he sat, on the floor, counting books. Gloria looked at the sky and then looked at the clock on the wall. It was 4:15. Part of her wanted the rain to stop so she wouldn’t have to be alone with him in his car, and another part of her wanted the rain to continue—so she could be alone with him in his car.

  Less than an hour later, the rain showed no intention of slowing and it was time to go. They were in the office, shutting down computers and getting ready to leave when Jill Oliver showed up with her soft-sided briefcase, raincoat, and umbrella.

  “It’s really pouring out there!” she said brightly. “Gloria, I hope you brought your umbrella.”

  “I...uh....” She looked over to Nate who was picking up what he’d just printed from the printer tray.

  “Actually, Jill, Gloria didn’t, so I’m running her home.” He put the papers in his own briefcase and closed it. He flashed Jill a quick smile before looking at Gloria. “Ready to roll?”

  Gloria bit the inside of her lower lip together to keep from laughing out loud.

  Cost of forgetting to have an umbrella in your purse—$10.

  Cost of gas to take a co-worker home—$3.

  The sight of Jill Oliver standing with a frozen expression of cheerfulness—priceless.

  “Yes, Nate.” Gloria smiled. “I am.”

  Jill’s slight flinch at Gloria’s use of his first name made it even harder for her to stay composed. She bent down and got her purse out of her desk and began to follow Nate out of the office. Jill slowly turned, watching them go.

  “Don’t forget the donuts,” he said and Gloria passed Jill again to get the box sitting on the corner of his desk. “Want to walk out with us, Jill?”

  “Yeah...sure.”

  The trio made their way out to the front of the school. The rain wasn’t as hard as before, but still coming down fast enough to soak anyone without adequate cover. They all huddled under the short overhang outside the front doors.

  For the first time, Gloria noticed that, in her heels, she towered over Jill. Nate opened his umbrella and held it over his and Gloria’s head.

  “We’ll have to dash for it,” he said. “Are you sure you can make it OK in your shoes?”

  “Yes, Gloria. Can’t have you breaking a heel.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me, Ms. Oliver.” She looked down at her former teacher and gave her a bland smile. “I can run in heels like they’re flats. You can’t tell from looking at me, but I’m light on my feet.”

  She hooked her arm around the arm Nate held the umbrella with and smiled up at him when he squeezed it closer.

  “OK, you two. On your mark...get ready...Go!”

  They dashed out into the rain and into the faculty lot roughly fifty yards away. Gloria was serious about being able to run in her heels, and with her long legs, she matched Nate stride for stride, leaving Jill Oliver in the dust.

  In fact, by the time she caught up wi
th them, Nate had already unlocked the doors and was helping Gloria inside his late model Honda CR-V. Holding her hand and arm steady as she eased into the car seat, his chivalrous attitude made her feel like a princess.

  She wasn’t surprised that Jill’s Chevy Malibu was parked right next to him. He closed the car door and rushed over to the driver’s side. Gloria heard them speak but couldn’t hear what was said over the rain. It couldn’t have been more than “Have a good weekend,” because he was in the car beside her in a flash.

  She inhaled deep, taking in the scent of the weather, of his car—of him. It was such a luscious mix of rain, leather, sandalwood, and whatever else made up his cologne that made Gloria want to melt into her own puddle of longing.

  “Damn, Gloria! Who taught you to run in heels like that?” He laughed. She shrugged nonchalantly.

  “I have my talents.”

  “You sure do, girl. You sure do.”

  If it wouldn’t make her look freakish, she would have squealed like a girlie-girl, but instead, she busied herself in fastening her seat belt. Nate started the engine and turned on the air vent since the windows were already starting to get foggy. Music came out of the car speakers. She couldn’t identify it, but it was nice. Mellow, but a bit quirky too.

  “What are we listening to?”

  “Oh!” He scowled for a second, angry at himself. “I’m sorry. Feel free to change it.” He looked over his shoulder and started to back out of the car slot. “I suppose you’re into Miley Cyrus or something.”

  “Uh, I don’t think so.”

  “Lady GaGa?”

  “Gag.”

  “One Direction?”

  “Please!” she said with exaggerated disgust.

  “What about Beyoncé?”

  “Not since that hot mess about Sasha Fierce.”

  He laughed. “Well, I’m sorry, Gloria. I don’t know what ki—people—your age listen to.”

  But she noticed the near miss. He was about to call her a kid. Fair enough. She was young, but she’d lived through more than most “kids” her age. At least he tried not to refer to her as one, tried to treat her as the adult the law claimed her to be.

  They were nearing the exit of the faculty car lot that emptied onto the main road. Jill Oliver’s car was ahead of them, waiting for a break in the traffic.

  “Which way?” he asked. “Right or left?”

  “Right.”

  When Jill’s car went left, Gloria let out a sigh of relief and then wondered if Nate noticed. If he did, he didn’t let on but turned right as instructed.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” he said.

  “You haven’t answered mine.”

  “What was it?”

  “Who are we listening to?”

  “Oh, some group from way back that you’ve probably never heard of.”

  “Try me.”

  “Squeeze.”

  “I’ve heard of them. They sing that song ‘Tempted,’ don’t they?”

  “Yes, they do. Very good.” He nodded.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. Lots of times. It’s in Grand Theft Auto, which one I don’t remember. My brother has it.”

  For some reason, that bit of information took some of the joy out of his expression. Did she say something wrong?

  “Well, we’re listening to one of their later albums called Play.”

  “Nice. I like it.”

  “Good. Now it’s your turn.”

  “For what?”

  “Whose music do you listen to?”

  “Turn left at the light and then keep straight for a few miles.”

  Gloria watched the tail lights of the cars ahead of them looking like blurry rubies in the rain and then remembered he was waiting for an answer.

  “I tend to prefer solo artists rather than bands. Jill Scott, Adele, Pink, John Legend, Janelle Monáe...but I like older stuff too.”

  He smirked. “What do you consider ‘older stuff?’”

  She shrugged. “Stuff from the ’70s...’80s.”

  From the corner of her eye she caught him turn his lips up in a smile, shake his head, and chuckle silently.

  As they sat at an intersection, waiting for the light to change, she twisted herself to face him better. She studied the way his hands gently gripped the wheel. Not at ten and two the way they taught in driving school, but more nine and five. Looking at his profile, she loved how his neck, neither too long or too short, peeked from his shirt collar before hiding again underneath his silky soft, light brown hair.

  “What else do you like, Mr...Nate?”

  “Oh, you know...this and that.”

  “Really? I like this and that too.”

  He gave her a side glance and his eyelids widened for a split second when she felt his gaze fall upon her cleavage made prominent by the way she sat. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, they were on hers.

  “Do I detect a sense of humor coming out of you, Gloria?”

  “Gee, I hope so. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all.” He smiled.

  “Good.” She turned her head to look out of the window. “It means I like you.” The sound of him clearing his throat made her face him again.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said.

  “We’re almost there. Turn right at the corner and it’s the third townhome on the right.”

  Moments later, they were in front of her brother’s home. None of the lights were on inside so Michael and Robyn weren’t in yet. The rain was still pelting down, meaning she’d still get drenched going the few yards from the car to the front door.

  She bent down to pick up her purse and twisted around to unbuckle her seat belt, but the material of her skirt had got caught in the mechanism. Nate shifted the car into park.

  “Here, let me help.”

  He turned in his seat and soon both hands were upon her belt buckle. There was no way to avoid his touching her hip...or his head coming closer to her cleavage as he bent forward to study the situation. She flexed the fingers of her left hand, inches away from raking through his hair. She knew it would feel smooth and silky. It had to be. Not stiff from gobs of hair products at all. She could smell his shampoo. Green apples.

  Instead, she reached out and touched his arm to steady herself while he continued to work her belt. It was over in a matter of seconds and he eased back.

  His face was a bit flushed and his nostrils slightly flared. He met her gaze again, but this time his look bore into hers and kept her in place. A pregnant pause grew between them.

  “Thank you,” she finally said softly.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, just as soft.

  Gloria’s breath caught in her throat and she finally swallowed it down. All she had to do was lean in a few inches and—

  She looked away, refusing to allow herself to fall into fantasy.

  “Let me walk you to your door,” he said softly. “You’ll get soaked.”

  “No, that’s OK, Mr...Nate.” She softened her refusal by looking him in the eye again and smiling. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.” Without breaking eye contact, she reached behind her for the handle and opened the door. The sound and scent of the rain filled the car but did nothing to cool the heat Gloria felt rising between them.

  “Hiking,” he said suddenly and she gave him a quizzical look. “You asked me what I like. I like hiking.”

  “I’ve never been hiking.”

  “I should take you the next time I go.”

  Her heart stopped. Holy shit! She really needed to play it cool. A slow, but nervous, smile came to her lips.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  She quickly exited the car and did a mad dash to the front door of the townhouse, feeling Nate Larsen’s stare on her back—and her backside—all the way. Oh, God! Did he just ask her out? Did she just flat out flirt with him? What the fuck was she thinking? She got her house key out, unlocked the door, and turned around. Sure enough, he was still there watching h
er. She waved at him. He waved back and drove away.

  She couldn’t get to her bedroom and strapped into her vibrator fast enough.

  Fortunately, as soon as Monday came around, both of them were too busy to do too much contemplating about what happened last Friday in the car, but regardless of that, another layer of reserve vanished from their—Gloria didn’t dare call it a “relationship,” but called it what it was—friendship.

  She raised her arms above her head and stretched. She shrugged, rolled her shoulders, and did a few neck rolls before standing up to do a full-body stretch. Doing so allowed her to look out of the office window and into the classroom.

  Nate, wearing his lab coat, stood at the chalkboard writing something, and she could just barely make out the tops of the heads of several students as they bent over their desks taking notes. Beyond him and against the opposite wall was a long expanse of counter top where the live exhibits were kept.

  A selection of small animals and insects that were shared in rotation with the other biology lab on the other side of the school were kept in Nate’s classroom because of the extra space. A dozen white mice, four hamsters, four geckos, two lizards, two chameleons, an ant farm, and a small aquarium holding several fish including a few sea horses. Their habitats would be cleaned once a week or as needed. When Gloria was a student, there was even a tarantula named Terry living in a terrarium.

  That is until Terry went missing one day as part of a senior prank. When news got out, the school admin nearly shit bricks trying to prevent panic.

  She remembered how Nate spoke over the P. A. system telling everyone that the spider was harmless and would not bite because it was used to being handled. That may have soothed some people, but Gloria was a member of A Good Spider is a Dead Spider Club. She didn’t want to be the one to encounter the rogue arachnid anywhere, because if she did, she would not be responsible for any damage she left behind.

  The spider was found within a few days in a dark corner. It had never left the classroom. The guilty parties were punished, but the incident meant that Terry the Tarantula needed to find a home away from Darning High, which came to pass when one of the graduating seniors in one of the honors classes adopted it.