Chapter 4

Mindy looked at her watch.

“Detention is over,” she said.

“What are we going to do about that?” asked Bobby, gesturing at the baton.

“I don’t know that we are going to do anything,” she said.

“We’re in this together,” he insisted.

“You’re a student,” she reminded him, needlessly.

“I’m your knight in shining armor,” he reminded her.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” she said.

“When?”

“You have detention, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He grinned. “For the first time in my life, I’m looking forward to detention.”

Mindy took the baton home with her. It had been in a drawer in her desk ever since they’d gotten back from the trip. She had not touched it until she took it to show to Bobby.

She curled up on the couch and examined the baton. It was completely normal in every perceivable way. It was of good quality, and finely made. It was longer, maybe two or three inches longer, than any she had ever used. Her own was all black. This one had a black bulb as a handle, and the whip-thin shaft was pure white. There were no markings on it whatsoever. That was odd. Manufacturers loved putting their names on things like this. They wanted their name to be a status symbol.

Her comments to Bobby notwithstanding, she had seen the movie. She pointed the baton at the book on her coffee table, made a swoosh, and said, “Wingardium Leviosa!”

Nothing levitated.

“This is stupid,” she muttered.

She remembered the curious circle/zee motion Batiste had made.

She tried levitating the book four more times, using the circle/zee. Nothing happened, of course.

“I’m not only stupid,” she finally sighed. “I’m crazy, too.”

The next afternoon, she headed to the detention room with a perky step. Bobby wasn’t the only one looking forward to detention.

She examined that thought as she walked down the quiet hallways. Teachers weren’t supposed to look forward to alone-time with a student. Especially a student of the opposite gender. But this was different. Bobby was, quite literally, her savior. What Batiste had been doing to her was the ultimate in degradation. The rape itself was bad enough, but making her completely helpless, yet fully aware, took things even further.

She remembered being frozen, staring at Abbey as the girl bobbed her head, sucking avidly, as if she couldn’t get enough of the demonic penis in her mouth. As she thought back on that, Mindy realized Abbey’s ... technique ... had been too polished, too easy, too ... familiar. She had obviously done this before. Not to this man - that was unthinkable. But to some man. Or boy. And Abbey hadn’t looked traumatized at all when she rose, her throat still working in swallows, her tongue licking lips stained with...

Mindy didn’t want to think about that. Instead she tried to remember Abbey’s demeanor. She hadn’t said anything. Batiste had told her to forget it had happened, to return to her friends, and say she’d just gone to the bathroom. It was obvious Abbey didn’t remember her music teacher being there. She’d have told the police about that. At a minimum she’d have asked Mindy about it.

So, whatever Batiste had done with the baton had directly affected the way Abbey had perceived things, not just her memory. Abbey could remember what Batiste had done to her, or made her do. But the things she had ignored, while Batiste had control over her, were gone as if they had never been there.

Mindy’s hand reached for the doorknob and she opened it. Bobby was already sitting at a desk. His head came up and his eyes met hers. She felt a rush of heat in her middle. She was shocked at the forcefulness of the feeling. She hadn’t felt that for a long time. Not since her last boyfriend.

“This is entirely inappropriate,” she said.

“What?” asked Bobby.

Mindy realized she’d actually spoken, and blushed.

“Nothing,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Bobby looked curious. “How are ... you?”

“Peachy,” she said, aloud. In the silence of her mind, she gasped, “Horny for one of my underage students!?”

“You look ... flustered,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about the magic wand,” she said.

He grinned. “Is that what we’re calling it? The magic wand?”

“It isn’t funny, Bobby,” she said.

His face went impassive.

“Of course not,” he said. “It just seems...”

“Trite? Cartoonish? I didn’t name it that. It just came out of my mouth that way.”

“Hey, calm down. You can call it anything you want to. You earned that right.”

Now the boy who had so recently - and without knowing it - plucked the strings of her libido, was telling her to calm down. It was as if their roles had been reversed.

She went to stand in front of him.

“Bobby,” she said.

He looked up. She hadn’t realized his eyes were so deep, so liquid, so brown.

“Bobby,” she said again.

“Yes, Miss Middlesex?”

She stared. She had been aware of (and teased about) her last name since she was ten. The innuendo seemed impossible to escape. Since coming to Wyoming she hadn’t thought about it so much, but now it was back. The butterflies in her stomach were going absolutely crazy.

“You need to call me Mindy when we’re alone,” she said, weakly.

He blinked.

“I do?”

“You saved me,” she moaned.

“I only did what anybody would have done,” he said.

“You had a crush on me,” she said. Her mouth snapped closed. She hadn’t meant to say that. Where had that come from?

“I did, but you don’t have to worry about that,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “What I did to that guy sort of took care of that.”

“So you don’t feel that way anymore?” What was her voice doing to her? Why was she saying these embarrassing things?

He looked away.

“Of course not,” he said.

“Still. You saved me. You don’t have to call me by my formal name. Not when we’re alone.”

“Okay,” he said.

She turned and went to the desk. She sat down, thinking furiously. What was happening to her? First the wand, and now this? She was having feelings for a student. She was attracted to a student!