Chapter 61

“Pride was the belt you used to hold your pants up when you had no pants.”
—Stephen King, Dreamcatcher

RACHEL AND LIVY MET ME at the door of school Tuesday morning with a luscious kiss before we went inside. I’d just shared my last passionate kiss with Em when she dropped me off and I watched her little Prius disappear up the street.

“Was it wonderful?” Rachel asked. “I love Em so much!”

“Desi told us about Sunday night and how sweet and accepting she was,” Livy said. “Even my panties got wet.”

“Silly. You were still wet from having Desi and me massage you after the race.”

“Well, you massaged some really good spots,” Livy laughed.

It had been an intense weekend. The con, the race, the night with Em. I needed to catch my breath a bit and listening to my girlfriends chatting was a perfect way to start.

Well, almost perfect.

“Jacob, may I speak with you a moment?” Ms. Levy asked when the bell rang. I was about to walk out with Brittany but she waved and I stopped at my beautiful English teacher’s desk.

“Of course, Ms. Levy.”

“I’ve looked over your schedule and with the seven classes you are taking this term, there is little time that we can meet together to review your writing. I’m clear during your lunch period. That would give us half an hour. Can you make it tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Any time you want to meet over lunch is fine with me. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. I guess my enthusiasm showed. She smiled at me and I left to rush to Trig with Rachel. Ms. Levy was shaking her head as her next class filed in.

“What was your little conversation about, lover,” Rachel whispered as we sat down in Trig. “Reeling in that hot English teacher?”

“She’s just helping me with my fiction writing,” I said. “I gave her a short story last week and she critiqued it. I’m not producing anything saleable yet, but my writing is improving.”

“I want to read some.”

“Maybe after I improve a bit more.”

Class started and we paid attention. The first unit had really been all review but I was surprised at how some of the students were struggling with it. The state mandated curriculum for Core 40 with Academic Honors required eight semesters of Math. Mad Anthony High School further required that students take at least one math or quantitative reasoning class every year. Quantitative reasoning included things like accounting and statistics. But kids who were trying to score high on SATs really needed the Pre-Calc/Trig course. Now that we were past the review stage, we were getting into matrix operations. September would be a long month for some of these kids.

I suffered through Biology. I wasn’t concerned about a grade in this class as long as I finished the work. I wasn’t trying to be valedictorian or anything. I figured with the new world order I was dealing with, college was also going to be a different experience by the time I got to it ... if I did. I was more interested in learning things that would help me be a good writer.

And that brought me to Latin. There isn’t really a course called Conversational Latin. Taking Latin was focused on reading classic texts, expanding grammatical understanding and vocabulary, and learning the fundamentals of written language. Which didn’t mean we weren’t supposed to learn the pronunciation of Latin words. They were still significant in music and ritual. I was interested from both the music perspective and the language development perspective.

“Are we going to get to do anything fun this fall at all?” Beca moaned. “All we ever do is study.”

“And run,” Livy added. “I wish I had time for something less ... or more ... um ... for a...” Rachel kissed her from one side and I kissed her from the other.

“We know,” Rachel said. “But you know, with Jacob, it will be something special and he’ll wait until he knows it is.”

Beca squeezed my arm from the other side. She was wearing a cute sleeveless blue dress. The bodice nicely showed her curves and the skirt flared at about mid-thigh. She wore a wedge sandal that raised her height about an inch. She looked so cute, it made my heart melt. I slipped my arm around her waist and gave her a hug.

“Um ... Would anyone be interested in coming to my house Sunday afternoon to dance?”

“Really? Could we do that?” Desi asked.

“My parents actually suggested it. Aunt Sophie said she’d be happy to teach us all salsa dancing. If you’d like.”

“What fun! Can we do it with just one boy?” Joan asked. She’d been my other regular dance partner since our lessons. Time alone together often included a little dancing.

“Sure. We do it all the time. Jacob might decide he just wants to watch us. As if Sophie would let that happen.”

I told Rachel I wouldn’t be making it to lunch on Wednesday and she just grinned.

“You’ll be making it in Ms. Levy’s classroom then,” she said. “Try to keep part of your mind on the task at hand, okay lover?” I moaned. Taking the task in hand was too tempting.

“Jacob, come have a seat. Uh ... close the door, please,” Ms. Levy said.

She’d pulled a desk up next to her desk and I slid into it. It was a common consultation arrangement in her classroom. She opened my red folder and tapped her painted fingernails on it. The color matched her lipstick. She was always so well put-together and professional. And gorgeous.

“I’m glad you gave me two stories to look at. In the green folder, you’ll find several notes that I made. I think they are self-explanatory. Your writing and grammar are improving rapidly. You need to work on showing instead of telling. I’ve included the addresses of a couple of websites that should help give you a background on what that means. I’m sorry it took so long to get this one back to you. You gave it to me the first week of school and getting the school year started is always a little hectic.”

“It sure is. I feel like I’ve been on the go since day one. Carrying seven classes this year cuts an entire study hall period for doing homework,” I said.

“If your work in this class is an indication, you are doing well. It’s so nice to see that you’ve teamed up with Brittany as a study partner. She is extremely bright but her age has been an impediment to social development. I think she has a good example in you.” I blushed and reflexively licked my lips. I could almost taste Brittany on them as she’d given me a quick kiss after class this morning.

“Brittany is a sweetheart and we study with two of our other girlfriends who are in a different section of your class,” I said. “Uh ... Rebeca and Desiree.”

“That’s wonderful. And inspiring, I’ll bet,” she said, lifting the pages from the red folder. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll go over this quickly. There are not many notes on the paper itself as I’d rather not have my handwriting on your romances. You might want to take a few notes.”

“Yes ma’am.” I had a pen and paper ready.

“First, character development is improving. I’m beginning to see depth in the narrator’s character, especially the part where he is nearly consumed by self-doubt. Setting up that depth of character with the narrator, though, also increases the contrast with less fully developed characters. In a first-person narrative, you need to give the reader some insight into the development of the relationships that goes deeper than what you have. What does the narrator—Daniel—see in Jasmine that indicates her interest? Even if it wouldn’t be something that he makes a conscious note of, it would be on the periphery of his awareness. The way she touches her hair, a blush, a sigh, a faraway look, a touch. These are as important as the words she says and if we see these taking shape, then her sudden taking of his hand and leading him to a dark corner to kiss is not such a bolt out of the blue. The problem here is that there is no indication that Jasmine is ‘that kind of girl’.”

“I see. I notice that all the time with my girlfriends. I just never thought of including it in what I write,” I said enthusiastically as I scribbled a note. Ms. Levy raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit.

“Hmm. Yes. So, I’ve included a typed list of books at the back of your folder. They include a couple of classic books on sex positions and stimulation of erogenous zones. Pay special attention to the books written by women about women. If you want a broad market, you need to appeal to what pleases women as well as what pleases men. And since you’ve gone there in your writing, I’ve included a book on threesomes. They can be ... quite arousing.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. Threesomes can be quite arousing? Ms. Levy had a bit of a blush going beneath her blonde hair. Was she speaking from experience here?

“So, all-told, try to focus on putting yourself in every situation and asking if it is exciting, comfortable, and even possible. Clothes don’t just fall off. Someone is getting a sleeve caught because it wasn’t unbuttoned, or an earring snagged on a sweater. Think of the things that will make it more real.”

“It’s ... I will ... Thank you.”

“I’m seeing the passion that lies beneath the surface beginning to emerge. It can be quite arousing without crossing over into crassness and pornography. I hope as you gain experience, you will retain your sense of imagination. Your partners will love you for it.”