Chapter 38

During dinner on Friday, I could barely sit still. My mother thought it was my “date” with Paul, but I was excited about going to a party in Greenwich Village with Mr. Roman and meeting his friends. I felt like Dorothy going to Oz, but not to meet the Wizard. The Wizard was Mr. Roman. Oz was his other life outside of school. After all these months of talking about going to the Village, it was finally happening. The damper was my apprehension about my deal with Paul Nimo. Paul and I had kissed a few times, mostly in the back seat of a car while listening to Debbie and Wally kissing passionately in the front. That was all we had done. Just kissed. Debbie had never admitted to doing more with Wally. From the back seat, I didn’t know where Wally’s hands were, but I had kept Paul’s hands off my breasts. Now it would be different. I had promised Paul more than kissing tonight. How much more was he expecting?

It’s not like I had anything against sex. But I wanted the sex to be with Mr. Roman, not Paul.

When dinner was over, I rushed upstairs to change, and then tugged the sides of my skirt as I paced in my bedroom waiting for Paul to pick me up. I wanted to wear corduroy pants to Mr. Roman’s party in the Village, like he always did and I assumed his friends did, but my mother wouldn’t have let me go on a date with Paul wearing pants. Girls didn’t do that. Not according to my mother. Instead of fighting with my mother and risking not being able to go, I simply wore a blouse and skirt. I had considered bringing a pair of corduroy pants with me to change into, but had nowhere to hide them. My pocketbook wasn’t big enough. I hoped Mr. Roman’s friends didn’t think I was, as he would say about people like my mother, square.

The doorbell rang and my heart beat faster. I rushed downstairs where my parents were pleasantly talking to Paul. They liked him. I wondered how their opinion of him would change if they knew about our deal. Spring was upon us, bringing warmer weather, so I grabbed a light jacket from the coat closet and barreled through my parents, grabbing Paul’s hand and dragging him down the cement steps in front of my house.

“Have fun,” my mother shouted behind us.

“We will,” Paul said without turning around.

I bet he will, I thought with anger directed at Paul.

I didn’t slow down until we were standing next to his car parked in front of my house. Actually, his father’s car. Like Wally’s father’s car, it was large with four doors. Nothing like Mr. Roman’s little sports car. But it was comfortable for double dating and making out. Not that I was going to make out in his car. Not today. It wasn’t dark enough to go to a place like Canarsie Pier, not that we had time to drive there and back. I needed to be at my pick-up spot at the time Mr. Roman had given me. That added to my stress.

“Where to?” Paul asked when we were sitting in the car.

“Make a left at the corner and then a right. You’ll see the main entrance to the school. Park there.”

Soon we were where I had told Paul to go. He turned off the engine and shifted to the middle of the bench seat. He pressed his lips to mine.

I jerked my head back. “What are you doing?”

Paul looked stunned. “You said we were going to make out.”

“Jeez, not here! Come with me.”

I got out of the car and soon Paul was standing next to me. I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the main doors. He looked confused, and then a little scared when I took the key Mr. Roman had given me out of my purse and inserted it into the lock. Paul’s head swiveled in all directions as his eyes scanned the surroundings. When I opened the door, I grabbed his hand again and yanked him inside.

“What if we get caught?” Paul asked.

“We won’t.”

“Where’d you get the key?”

“Not important.” I stared at his scared face. “If you changed your mind, you can go home.”

“But you said we were going to make out.”

“This is where we will do it ... unless you want to leave.”

“Right here?”

“No. I have a place. So do you want to do it or do you want to leave? Time is running out. We only have an hour.”

“I want to do it,” Paul said.

My shoulders slumped. I had thought he was going to chicken out and go home. Then I would simply have to kill an hour until Mr. Roman picked me up. But I guessed what Paul was expecting from me was worth the risk he would take. It was just as well. I might need to do this again in order to be with Mr. Roman.

“Follow me,” I said.

This time I didn’t take Paul’s hand. I started walking toward the Band classroom expecting Paul to follow. He did. Our footsteps echoed in the empty halls making it sound like there were people following us. Paul didn’t go to my high school so he didn’t know his way around. But I did, even in the dim light. No longer hearing Paul’s footsteps, I stopped and turned around. He was standing in the middle of the hallway looking over his shoulder behind him.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Are you sure no one’s here?”

“The school is closed. No one’s here. Are you coming or not?”

Paul looked around one last time and walked up to me. I turned and started walking again, listening for Paul’s steps behind me. Soon we were outside the Band classroom. I opened the door. It squeaked. I had never noticed that squeak until the janitor almost caught Mr. Roman and me doing what a teacher and student shouldn’t be doing. Now every time I opened the door I heard the squeak. Being alone in the empty, darkened school, where I wasn’t allowed to be, the squeak sounded like a cannon. I yanked Paul into the classroom and closed the door.