Chapter 13

Today's faculty lounge has the same mismatched sofas and armchairs. The same former cafeteria table dominates the center of the room, more battle-scarred than ever, surrounded by a constantly evolving variety of seating. The refrigerator carries the same warning it did then, a little more yellowed and tattered with age: "Label your food with your name and date, or else!"

"Or else" has never been elaborated on, but the same trash can yawns hungrily close by. The only additions are the bins for recyclables and returnables.

Now, as a graduating senior with certain higher responsibilities, and a favored relationship with the Vice Principal, I'm more accepted there (by invitation only, of course) though not all the faculty welcomes my intrusions. Back then I felt like I was entering the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctum, the Forbidden City, where teachers shared tales of tiresome students and plotted who among us would next be tortured with a surprise quiz.

As she led me in I thought I heard Mrs. Devers sharpening her ax, but it turned out to be a notice on the bulletin board stirring in the draft from the open door. Before I had a chance to spot any exciting secrets to share with my friends Mrs. Devers handed me a soda, filled her mug from the percolator with something that resembled tar and smelled worse. Ignoring the cracked leather couch, she carefully spread her towel at one end of the fabric upholstered one and pointed me to the opposite end of it.

"Trust me, you don't want to sit on the leather couch, even dressed, and God knows what one of the chairs might do to you, even through your towel."

I'd already noticed she'd deliberately propped the door open, and was smart enough to know why she'd done it, and why she wanted me at the far end of the sofa.

"Yes'm."

Clutching the condemned's last drink I waited for the sky to fall.

She sipped her coffee and sighed appreciatively.

Finally I risked a glance. She didn't look angry.

"You never cease to amaze me."

"Ma'am?"

"Ma'am?" she mused. "I suppose formality is safest, Miss Walker."

"Miss Walker?"

"You have a crush on me."

I desperately twisted the cap off my soda, my jaw flapping until I wrapped my lips around the neck of the bottle. The drink fizzed on my tongue like cold fire, making my eyes water.

"You think I didn't know? I've seen the way you look at me. Thank you. I'm flattered."

She sipped her coffee again while I shot glances in her direction -- her lovely breasts, still firm, a bit more than a handful. Her nipples were alert, and I so wanted to suckle on them, sure she'd like the pleasure as much as I would like giving it, to have her arms around me ... I so much wanted to be comforted! I was so far from being the cool, confident committee chair it was like I was in another dimension.

"You know, of course, that nothing can come of it."

Even though I'd known that from the start, my heart sank to hear it from her. Given our recent experience with The Worm, and the delicate state of The Program, everyone was wary of any hint of faculty/student dallying.

Hence her propping open the door to the public hallway, hence sitting me as far away from her as possible.

I nodded unhappily, feeling very young and foolish for thinking she might share my fantasy.

"Just to be perfectly clear, there can't be even a hint of the feelings we have for each other," she went on very seriously.

The phrase "feelings we have for each other" set my nerves a-tingling in spite of her cautionary message. If she cared for me as much as I cared for her, in the same way...

"I'm the Vice Principal, you are a student. I'm sure you understand."

"I do." I felt a deep, sad feeling in my gut, forcing myself to face reality. I'd been on such an emotional edge all day, as hard as I tried to prevent it an embarrassing tear trickled down my cheek. I looked at her, and I could see in her glistening eyes how much she wanted to cuddle and console me, and that only made my heart break more. I tried not to snuffle, telling myself that maybe, just maybe, someday, when it was safe...

Looking away from me, she studied her coffee thoughtfully. "Not too many people understand the impact The Program is having, not just on the students and schools but on their families, and the community as a whole, on all kinds of relationships, not just sexual. Not all of it is good, but on balance I'd say we're all better off for it."

I nodded, feeling young and foolish, not sure exactly what she meant, trying to adjust to discussing this mature stuff with her.

Not that there'd been much discussion on my part. So far I'd said maybe two words.

"You really caught me by surprise today."

"I did?"

"You know darn well you did."

I nodded, abashed.

She took another swallow of coffee and made a face. "Just as I was reaching for the brass ring you yanked the rug right out from under me."

"I suspected you had something up your sleeve."

"What sleeve?" she asked whimsically, looking at her bare arms -- and torso, surprising me, giving me even more to contemplate than our mixed metaphors.

Pay attention! The Stick scolded me. Remember why you're here.

Why was I there? I was waiting to get my head handed to me, wishing she'd get to it if she was gonna do it.

The Stick was unhelpfully silent, so I had to soldier on alone.

"I'm sorry I told you to sit down and shut up," I said. "I feel awful I did that, but I sorta panicked, I guess."

"I didn't take it personally. While I hadn't said anything the 'sit down!' was justified. You're the chair, I was out of order."

"I'll replace the gavel. I hope it wasn't anything special. And I'm sorry I yelled at you."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It isn't the first time I've been yelled at, and I've had students call me -- well, never mind. Nor is that the first gavel that's been broken on that table. Maintenance probably has a carton of them.

"But please, the next time you have a plan of your own, tell me in advance."

"Would you have let me go ahead if I had?" Really, I'd had only the vaguest idea of what I hoped to accomplish, no idea of how I'd do it. Once I'd broken the gavel I'd pretty much had to make it up as I went along, but I didn't dare tell her that!

She cocked her head ambiguously. "I suppose that would depend on the plan. But we really should discuss these things before bringing them up in an open meeting."

"That cuts both ways," I pointed out.

Jeeze! What had given me the courage to say that?

She visibly flinched, but instead of taking my head off and mounting it on the wall she nodded. "Touché! You're right, of course. It won't happen again. Deal?"

"Deal." Stretching, we touched fingertips -- and it felt sooo good -- before we again retreated to our respective ends of the sofa.

"As it turns out, your plan was far better than mine," she admitted.

That surprised me a little. "Just what was your plan?"

"I expected you guys to set yourselves up as a student court which I'd present to The Powers That Be as a fait accompli -- you know what that is?"

"It's French. It means an accomplished fact."

"But you're taking German."

"Ja. Oui. Si. Maria's teaching me Spanish, too. I just sorta pick stuff up as I go along."

"Figures. You're worse than your brother. He absorbed stuff. You suck it up like a sponge."

Deciding that didn't sound like a bad thing I kept my mouth shut, though I was always uncomfortable being compared to Carl.

"I'm sick of writing memos that just disappear into some black hole" she went on. "I've wanted a student court for years, and this was my chance to get one."

"Did you set us up, the whole committee and everything, with just that in mind?"

"No, not right from the start. We needed something to help straighten out The Program, especially after uncovering Worthington's shenanigans. You suggested some sort of a court to resolve 'reasonable request' conflicts. Remember?"

"Yeah, but just to make recommendations. I didn't want to punish anybody."

"I understood that at the time. But don't you think a court like that would inevitably evolve into something more? That's what almost happened today."

I acknowledged that with a nod.

"I saw an opportunity. When I went for it I put you on the spot. You were right to stop me," she admitted, surprising me. She always sounded so certain.

"But because of me you don't have your student court."

"Eventually I'll get it. These things take time. I hope you'll help me -- but knowingly. As it is, I'm glad you stopped me. You got Wil in the program without it sounding like it was punishment, which would have crushed him."

"I didn't want to crush him," I said. "He's a good kid who did something stupid. He's not trying to wreck the Program."

"I know. But he does need to be seen as an example of what will happen to someone who knowingly assaults a Program participant. Retta is right about sauce for the goose."

"If Wil can look like he feels he's being punished for even a day it may be enough. It's a lie, I suppose..."

"Call it a subterfuge," she responded, "a bluff. Anyway, bringing Ingrid in to seal the deal was genius. I hadn't even thought to talk with her, let alone get her involved. If we'd done it my way poor Wil really would have thought he was being punished. Walking the halls naked and alone his classmates would have ragged on him mercilessly. Which would be terrible for him, and might not have even fixed our current problem anyway."

"We don't know it's fixed yet. This is only the first day."

"But at least Wil won't suffer."

"Anything but, I'd say!" Thinking of how Wil and Ingrid had wound up pasted together with his ejaculate I giggled. Mrs. Devers laughed, to my relief.

Then I got serious again. "So he's a pawn and screwing him over's just a -- a gambit."

"That's harsh!" she protested.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You're right. The best I can say is that it was a miscalculation. I was expecting we'd catch one of our truly bad boys who'd deserve what he had coming. Poor Wil just happened to be the one we caught. Paired with a senior like her, naked, he'll find himself with friends he never had before, trust me. The next step up will be losing his virginity."

I smiled. "Oh, I imagine Ingrid will take care of that this weekend."

"You didn't!"

"When I asked her to be available for the meeting I suggested to her that if she was willing I was sure he'd be able. She didn't say she'd do it, but she kind of grinned. I got a definite vibe."

Mrs. Devers had laughed. "You pimped her out!"

"Now who's being harsh? I prefer to think I just played cupid," I answered primly, pretending to be offended.

She laughed her wonderful laugh. "And I thought I was manipulative!"

Unsure how to take that I changed the subject.

"Speaking of pawns, Detective Sanchez suspects someone outside the school is using the students to stir things up in here, and so do I. She's doing her cop thing on that."