The Summer of Consent

by Jayne Marlowe

  But after their intense session in the office earlier that day, today they just ate and spent some time making out on the couch. No sex. By the time they got back to the school in time for the next class, they were both feeling recharged.

  Although he said he’d be back, Rory didn’t appear, so Nate went on to his next class, which was going to be held in the library. Unlike Nate’s earlier class that was taking a different test than Mrs. Houska’s class, this afternoon session was the AP class, and since both Nate and Mrs. Houska taught AP, it was decided that in her absence, they would combine their classes and have the midterm exam in the library.

  Gloria got back to work transcribing his manuscript. She had fallen a little behind her goal for the day after watching over Nate’s class, but she was slowly catching up. With a little luck, she’d get ahead—

  “There you are!”

  Jill’s shrill voice startled Gloria and she balled her fists in frustration. She really had to stop freaking out whenever someone came to the office while she was working, and the only way to do that was to pay more attention to her surroundings. That, and stop tempting fate by having sex with Nate in the office.

  She looked up to see Jill Oliver storming toward her with a scowl on her face.

  “I have been looking all over for Mr. Larsen—or you, if nothing else.”

  Gloria let slide the dismissive way Jill referred to her, but her generosity was wearing thin. For someone educated and intelligent enough to be a teacher, Gloria had come to realize just how dumb her former homeroom teacher could be. Jill simply could not take a hint. Sometimes Gloria giggled at the way she and Nate had turned ditching Jill into a kind of game without conspiring to do so.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was trying to avoid me.”

  Gloria laughed before she could stop herself and was treated to Jill’s icy stare in response, which was followed by an evil smirk.

  “I assume you know where he is.”

  “Yes, I do.” Gloria stood. “But if I could make a suggestion, Jill—”

  Jill looked Gloria up and down as if she had just shitted on the floor, cutting her short.

  “I beg your pardon? It’s Ms. Oliver to you.”

  That was the last straw. Gloria was not going to let any so-called “adult” treat her like an insignificant speck, something to beat up—physically or emotionally—and then toss aside the way her parents did.

  Gloria took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm herself so she could reply in a professional way...the way an adult should. If she ever needed that poise Mr. Brodowski credited her with, now was the time. Finally, she mustered up a polite, if not sincere, smile.

  “Well then you can call me Ms. Goodman.”

  This time Jill’s acidic glare burned into Gloria, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Excuse me?”

  “No, I will not excuse you. Not this time. Courtesy is a two-way street. Miss, mister, and missus are called courtesy titles for a reason. They are given as a means to show courtesy, if not respect.”

  Jill’s brows came together in an ugly slash across her forehead. “Since when did you become a teacher and think you could lecture to me, young lady?”

  “This is not about who’s the teacher and who’s the student. This is about courtesy. Over these last weeks, you’ve been rude and openly hostile to me. It stops now. I am not a child and I am not your student anymore. You may not have any respect for me, but you will be courteous toward me. So, what’s it to be?”

  Gloria rounded the desk, leaned against it, and copied Jill’s defensive posture by crossing arms over chest.

  “We can move on from this in a civil manner and on a first-name basis...or you may address me as Ms. Goodman. Take your pick.”

  Both women glared at each other. Gloria didn’t know what was going through Jill’s mind, but as far as Gloria was concerned, her former teacher stood there, looking like a spoiled, bratty bitch similar to so many of the girls Gloria had endured for years.

  “Oh! Hi, Jill.”

  Nate entered the office carrying a wire desk tray full of exam papers. He stopped short, noticing something was not right.

  “What’s up? Is there something wrong?”

  Jill had her back to him, but Gloria could see Jill’s sour face crack into a breezy smile before she turned around.

  “No, nothing’s wrong. I came in looking for you and was just chatting with....” She turned to look over her shoulder. “Gloria.”

  To which Gloria gave Jill the slowest, biggest, shit-eating smirk she could muster and thought, Every time you even look at a tree, Jill Oliver, remember the shade I just put you under.

  Jill flashed Gloria a brief grimace and then turned to face Nate again.

  “Are you ready for the meeting this afternoon?” she asked him.

  “Oh, shit!” Nate’s expression filled with panic. “Sorry for the language, Gloria.”

  Jill laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Nate. Gloria is no longer a student here. She’s a grown woman. I’m sure she can handle it. Can’t you...Gloria?”

  “Oh, I’ve heard stronger language than that...Jill.”

  She wanted to add—Usually when Nate comes. Yeah, bitch, I’m living the dream—but that would have been inappropriate.

  Satisfying, but inappropriate.

  Gloria sat on the couch in Nate’s living room as he finished packing and getting ready to go away for the weekend. It was her first time inside his home and she was taking it all in.

  Nate lived in a ranch house that he inherited from his parents in an old, established neighborhood close to downtown. It was an older house, built in the 1960s, and Gloria suspected many of the furnishings were from that decade too. She had walked into Don’s apartment on the set of Mad Men, but with touches of Ikea. The style suited Nate with its sleek and smooth decor, and with the exception of the odd book or magazine, his home was quite tidy. She had said so when she first came in, but Nate admitted that he had a housekeeper come over twice a week.

  As her eyes roamed around the room, she let them rest on a wall covered in photographs. She got up to take a closer look. There were several family portraits: Nate with his parents and two younger sisters; and finally, a set of photos of Nate of his high school, college, and graduate school graduations.

  Gloria smiled at the way his look matured over the years, especially the hair. It went from asymmetrical and gelled to more natural. The style he wore now was a classic side part that just begged fingers to run through it, and she was more than happy to be the one who obliged.

  She heard him come into the room.

  “I look pretty geeky, don’t I?”

  “Not anymore,” she teased.

  “Ha. Ha.”

  She continued to scan the wall of photographs. “No wedding photos?”

  Nate gave a hearty bark of a laugh. “Not a one. I don’t need pictures to remind me of my mistakes.”

  “What was her name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “She was born Denise Jacobs, but she’s better known as That Bitch.”

  Gloria chuckled, but it dawned on her that even with all the time they’d spent together, there was still a lot of basic information about Nate she didn’t know. Considering what he knew of her own messed-up past, it wasn’t all there was to her, but he’d accepted it with no questions asked.

  Essentially, neither of them had bothered asking anything too personal about the other, which she thought was odd considering how intimate their bodies had been. She didn’t want to admit that it irked her, this lack of intimacy on a nonsexual level, but she figured that it was probably for the best. She would be off to college soon, and he would be busy with a new crop of students.

  Arms encircled her waist and her back came in contact with Nate’s long, firm physique. She nestled in and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “I’m flattered to finally be able to see your home—see a bit more of your natural habitat. How many times has Jill b
een over?” She hoped she didn’t sound catty. She was only curious.

  “Too many, unfortunately. But fortunately, not for the sake of sex. I was having car trouble a few years ago and we car pooled while it was getting fixed.”

  “You mean she never comes over for a little friendly chat?”

  “Why should she?”

  Gloria shrugged. “I thought I saw her Malibu trailing behind us on the way over.”

  “A lot of people drive Malibus,” he said, letting her go and walking over to his office area on the other side of the living room.

  “I know. I’m just playing with you. Besides, Jill may be mad at me after what I said to her this afternoon.”

  “What did you say?”

  As Gloria proceeded to regale him with the tale, he came back to her, and by the time she was done, he stood there with his mouth hanging open. Then he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

  “Ms. Goodman. You. Are. Priceless!”

  He startled her when he grabbed her, kissed her neck, and gave her ass a smack as he walked away.

  “Perhaps I should ask you about Rory Stewart.”

  Gloria blinked—and was surprised at the way her heart skipped a beat.

  “What about him?”

  “Well, he finally caught up with me after the exam. But I think he was really trying to find out when you were off rather than anything academic.”

  “Is that so? What makes you say that?”

  “Because he asked.”

  Gloria turned just in time to catch him looking at her, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was frowning. But he quickly turned his attention to shuffle through the mail he held.

  “I don’t know why he couldn’t have asked me when he stopped by the office. I don’t bite.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Just that once!” She went over and slugged him in the arm.

  “Ow! Come here, you,” he said, pulling her to him. “You’ve given me an idea. You want to get to know me in my ‘natural habitat?’ Why don’t we just camp out here, so to speak.”

  “You don’t want to go to the state park?”

  “We can go next week. Anyway, the forecast is for rain. You remember what happened last time we went hiking in the rain.”

  He leered at her, making her giggle.

  “And what if Jill happens to stop by this weekend? You know how she drops in unannounced.”

  He shrugged. “Fuck her.”

  “No.” Gloria wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck me.”

  They commenced to partake in the first of many “hungry” kisses, and any thoughts about Jill Oliver or Rory Stewart evaporated.

  As far as Gloria was concerned, the whole world could disappear for the weekend.

  “I know it’s not as grand as some of the hotel restaurants we’ve gone to,” Nate said as he held open the door for her, “but at least there’s variety.”

  Gloria laughed and they entered the mall’s food court. It was the peak of the lunch rush, but fortunately they had over an hour to eat and get back in time for the afternoon session. They opted for pizza by the slice. As they made their way to a table in the dining area, Nate made an observation.

  “Did you get onions on your pizza to throw me off kissing you?”

  Gloria tried to suppress a grin. “We’ve been tempting fate making out in the office, you know.”

  “Is that so?” Nate put down his tray on the table and then pulled out a chair. “Sit down and tell me all about it.”

  Gloria stopped short and looked at him, acting all innocent and full of concern, as if he hadn’t fucked her good less than thirty minutes ago. Nevertheless, she sat, and she winced.

  “Smart ass,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t get me started on asses...again, Miss Goodman.”

  Sighing in defeat, she picked a piece of onion off her pizza, tilted her head back, and made a show of eating it.

  “Touché, Miss Goodman. Touché.”

  As she ate, she looked around as more and more people came into the food court. For the first time since she and Nate became lovers, Gloria felt they were a true couple—and this is counting their hiking-hotel weekends.

  While she would always credit Nate for her new-found appreciation for hiking, she drew a line at camping and sleeping outdoors. Truth be told, she loved rambling out in the woods all day and then coming back to a lodge, cabin, or hotel and relax in comfort for the night.

  But spending a weekend alone with Nate at his home was even better.

  Staying at the hotel and having sex in the office, it was easy to get caught up in the situation of a taboo romance, but staying at home, doing your own cooking and cleaning as a team—as a couple would do—this was reality.

  The last weekend was the most enlightening weekend in Gloria’s life. She finally got to learn more about Nathan Daniel Larsen—such as his full name. She learned how Nate, in addition to being an avid hiker, used to be a competitive cyclist too.

  “I did the Hotter’N Hell Hundred in Wichita Falls, Texas twice, but the third time nearly killed me. That’s when I decided to spend more time hiking than cycling.”

  She told him about herself as well; how she’d wanted to go into law school, perhaps specialize in family law and become a child advocate in some kind of way. She didn’t pick the field with any wide-eyed delusions. Gloria knew what it was like to be abused, but she also knew how children could be totally manipulative to get their way. She hoped that her personal experience would help her see through the bullshit and reach the kids who really needed help.

  Besides, their spending time together showed her that it is possible to teach an old dog new tricks and that you’re never too old or young to learn. During the weekend she actually taught him how to synch his Bluetooth connection between his phone and his car, and he showed her how to read a paper map and how to play Texas Hold’em. She couldn’t wait to try out her new card skills against Michael who hosted poker nights at least once a month.

  And Gloria had loved learning all these new things about Nate. But she knew she could grow to love this feeling too much, because in spite of all this new-found intimacy, they never ventured too much out in public. This trip to the food court was a coming out of a different sort.

  “Gloria! Mr. Larsen!”

  Both of them froze, not only at the sound of their names coupled, but the excited, surprised, and loud tone in which they were said. They turned in the direction of the voice and spoke in unison.

  “Brittany?”

  Approaching them wearing a dark mini skirt and leggings, flats, an off-the-shoulder blouse and a beret was Brittany Taylor, looking very young Parisian. She waved enthusiastically at them and quickly made her way over, all smiles.

  Both Gloria and Nate stood and Brittany greeted them in a very European way, pulling them in by the shoulders for a quick cheek-to-cheek brush and air kiss.

  “Wow! Look at you!” Gloria couldn’t help but gush.

  Brittany had left the states a Kardashian wannabe but returned looking like Kendall Jenner.

  “How was Paris?” Nate pulled out the chair so that Brittany could sit between them.

  The answer to that question took Brittany the better part of fifteen minutes. Gloria wondered how Brittany could talk so fast and so long without taking a breath. But then Gloria remembered that Brittany always talked that way—she was just being herself.

  Gloria had forgotten what it was like to be around someone her age, and that revelation made her blink, waking from a dream. She continued to listen to Brittany and only once stole a glimpse at Nate who appeared almost as dumbstruck as Gloria. When Brittany finally took a breath, Gloria felt obliged to make a polite inquiry.

  “Any pictures?”

  “Well, most of the pictures are up on my Instagram page. Haven’t you seen them?”

  Gloria hoped her tight smile didn’t give away the fact that she wasn’t friends with Brittany on Instagram—or any other social m
edia—and hadn’t been invited to do so. Did Brittany forget, or did she say it for Nate’s benefit?

  “No, sorry. Nate...I mean, Mr. Larsen...has been keeping me quite busy this summer.”

  Gloria allowed herself a moment of inner gloating as Brittany’s jaw dropped—only slightly—at Gloria’s use of Nate’s first name, and she looked at them both in turn.

  “Yes, it’s too bad you couldn’t take the position, Brittany.”

  Although his tone was cheerful, Gloria tried not to wince at his words and how they stabbed her deep in the gut, and when he smiled that goddamned charming smile of his, the one that wetted more panties than a Justin Bieber concert, it only confirmed her suspicion that his disappointment in not having Brittany as his assistant this summer was stronger than he ever let on. He continued with his charm.

  “Hey, I can’t compete with a trip to Paris. Besides, you found an excellent replacement in your stead, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

  He put out his hand to Brittany.

  “Oh, it was no problem, Mr. Larsen. After all, you were my favorite teacher and Gloria is a good friend. It was the least I could do for all the inconvenience I caused.”

  “It was no incon—” He stopped short when he looked across the table. “Are you OK, Gloria?”

  “Mmm...,” she hesitated. “A-actually...no. I suddenly don’t feel well.”

  Then, to give veracity to her claim, she got a foul taste in her mouth, and she had to swallow hard to keep the urge to vomit at bay.

  “Oh, no,” Brittany cooed. “Do you think it’s something you ate?”

  Gloria thought she detected genuine concern, but it could have been sarcasm—she wasn’t sure. At the moment, she wasn’t sure she could trust what anyone said anymore. Instead, she just nodded and stood.

  “Excuse me, please. I need to go to the restroom.” She gave them both a weak, embarrassed smile. “I guess onions don’t agree with me.”

  Quickly, she got up and made her way to the ladies’ restroom. It wasn’t that she was afraid of something coming out as she was of something working its way back up. Studying herself in the giant mirror that spanned the entire counter of sinks, Gloria thought she looked a bit green in the gills.