Chapter 7: Graduation

Three minutes after adjourning to bed for the night, a petite brunette came stomping down the stairs and into my library again. Stomping on old hardwood floors was pretty futile. The thick Persian rug that covered the seating area, in this section of the library, even more so.

Frustration and anger, mostly the first, warred within her as she demanded, “I think I broke the clasp. Can you undo it please or just cut the damn thing off?”

Following her directions, I had her turn around. The clasp was twisted in the panty thong string which led to the main body of the material. Once I freed that up, it easily snapped undone with a touch of leverage. The string snapped and left a red mark on the back of her thigh. “Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re welcome. And Catherine?” She turned to face me before running off revealing the silver bottoms which stuck to her like cellophane. “If you want to take some time and then shower go ahead. You can sleep in one of my shirts if you want.”

“Thanks,” came her terse reply.

I offered, knowing she didn’t want me to talk about it anymore, yet still did. That thong on the bodysuit was too tight, it had to have been driving her bonkers all evening.

The rest of the week passed in less uncomfortable underwear for her, which was followed by casual dress outfits. All of those were aimed for college age or young professionals.

Her report on that week’s lingerie, especially the metallic weave was enlightening. The material was too stiff in the hip and groin area caused a constant rubbing of the sensitive spots when worn for an extended length of time. The elastic under strap was too strong rendering the string too noticeable when moving.

The dark green demi bra and thong combo received a glowing, comfort review. So, did the black full body mesh she wore with it that morning. The silver set, she shot apart. Calling it ‘painted cellophane’ whose only use would be in seedier stores. There was no coverage, support or breathing in the material. It was solely designed to adhere to the vagina’s curves or nipple’s surrounding bumps. Water paint would have better coverage and support...

I went back over the reports, separating them and the previous swimsuit ones to see if there was a trend. There was.

It wasn’t obvious at first, but Cat liked thongs. She also appreciated the appearance of coverage without substance in most cases. The mesh was a perfect example. The demi bra was similar. Minimal substance, but since the bodysuit was covering it, she could be free.

I had guessed correctly earlier. Catherine liked the open backed gowns and swimsuits. Since she couldn’t see the exposure, ‘she didn’t have to worry about it’. Cat needed the comfort of coverage in the front without concerning herself with the back. Almost an out of sight, out of mind ideal. I sent in the report with along with my reviews and findings.

The extreme clothes were a positive distraction from the burden of the high stress pace of her studies. Cat was rushing and pushing herself too hard. I wasn’t sure how successful the distractions would be, but they did seem to help her settle. I would need to watch her stress levels closer in the future.

I felt that it would be an ever present battle for us.

...

Thursday morning, Catherine came in lethargically from swimming. “After breakfast we are going into the city.” I had woken her up two hours early without telling her why and she wasn’t all that happy.

“I can go to my graduation??” She leapt out of her towel revealing her pink lace undies and lots of lightly tanned skin. Shocked, she hurried and bent to retrieve the falling cloth while not ignoring my confirmation.

After giving my student time to primp and prep for the day, we headed out. I explained on the way to her parent’s house, that I had spoken with her principle and her father. Cat had more than enough credits to graduate. Her father would accept my hand off and I would pick her up at their house at 21:00. I drew attention to a matching bag to go with a starched white dress. “Inside is your phone and wallet. You have my number. Enjoy your day.”

“Are you coming to see me graduate?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course!”

“I will be there.”

“Can I call Colleen and the rest to let them know?”

“Yes.” The rest of the hundred-and-ten-minute drive was noisy as she chatted with her friends.

...

We arrived at the Larkin’s a little before ten, I escorted Cat out of the car and half way up the walk when a younger coltish version of my charge flew out the door in her pink pj’s, body slamming her older sister.

Ignoring the antics of their mobile stream of consciousness greetings, I met Jeremy Larkin on the front porch. Offering my hand, “Poul Smith.” “Jeremy Larkin.”

“Won’t you come in?” Catherine’s father genuinely invited.

“Not today. I have an errand to run in the city. She is all yours until nine tonight. Catherine is a wonderful and gifted child. Here is my card. Call me anytime.” He didn’t try and dissuade me, but I knew in a week or two I would be receiving a call.

“Have fun today.” I called to the besieged girl, and left. Cat’s graduation wasn’t until three, plenty of time to run my errands and make it to the outdoor auditorium.

...

I stood in the back while resting on my cane along with a few others that didn’t have either a ticket or the desire to sit for the two hours needed on steel folding chairs. I easily located my student who broke ranks and gathered her three friends to sit with her and the Larkins, three of her immediate family, plus an older woman who had to be my student’s paternal Grandmother.

The other reason I held back was in case something happened. Three sets of eyes, one hostile, followed every move I had made since entering the county fairgrounds where the graduation for Catherine’s high school was being held. Shortly after the speeches, the rows progressed in an orderly fashion to receive their token scrolls. A slim woman approached from my left and offered ‘Her’ congratulations before slipping back off into the mix.

Sometimes, Moria’s thoughts made me wonder.

The hostile eyes changed focus elsewhere. I sent a drone out in a search pattern from its perch in the great oak at the far end of the parking lot, using the camera in my glasses as guidance. The stealthed sniper was not targeting me anymore, but the smiling girl who was about to stand up. Hummingbird 2 flew straight at the man a mile and a half away, piercing his prone back and injecting the toxin into the fleshy part under the assassin’s left shoulder. I needed more practice; my aim was off, though good enough to render Cat’s attacker unconscious.

I kept an eye on Catherine’s row, which stood, approached the stage and individually received their rewards for surviving public school without murdering their classmates or teachers with one eye and the other alternating between Hummingbirds 1 and 2. It looked like someone beat me to finding the second assassin, as a small battle was happening in the air, a mile or so to the west.

Cat smiled at her family and mouthed ‘thank you’ to me before walking off the stage easily, in her now accustomed matching white three-inch heels. The airborne conflict ended with the assailant flying off faster than the single pursuer could keep up with. The second of the interceptors disappeared, probably wounded. I hoped that a third attack would not be happening today.

Damn, sniper one just died from a round piercing the back of his skull. I called back H1 and had her scout with no luck. Whoever it was, had left the area. I remained in the outdoor auditorium until most everyone left. Their target wasn’t me today, but I had no desire to cause a commotion if there was a separate attack waiting.

There wasn’t. At nine, I arrived at the Larkin’s where a full party was in progress. Mr. and Mrs. Larkin were waiting for me on the porch when I stepped out of my car.

“Suzanne Larkin, forgive the late introduction, I am Smith.” I held out my hand to shake. She accepted my proffered hand, but that didn’t mean she liked me.

“Can Cat stay for a day or two, Mr. Smith?” she pleaded.

“It’s not safe for her here.” At his scowl and her disbelief, I continued, “There were two attempted attacks on Catherine today at the ceremony which ended up with one of the attackers dead. Both threats were dealt with by the defenses surrounding you.”

“One dead?” Lawyer mode coincided with ‘concerned mom mode’ from the Mrs. Mr. Larkin was a little pale at the news.

“A sniper from an unknown faction.” I continued. “He was silenced by his own side, I believe, after he failed. The other one flew away faster than the defenders. I have no information regarding that conflict.”

“Are we allowed to visit?” asked the less aggressive father.

“Second or third week in August. Let me know the date but Catherine needs to remain on the property.”

“Thanks, Smith.” Suzanne replied, formally, using my title. “One last question and I will get her for you.”

“Yes?”

“Those dresses she wore, are they all originals?”

“Everything she wears are prototypes and unique. Including the dress, she has on now and the shoes. Isn’t that right Catherine?” I asked the petite brunette standing behind the closed screen door with her friends.

Mr. Larkin was still shaken over the attempt to kill his daughter today, but Mrs. Larkin looked at the gaggle of girls with a smile and an appraisal of her daughter’s latest dress.