Chapter 40: Friday, Sept. 21

I awoke to my phone ringing. It took until the start of the fourth ring for me to untangle myself from Marie and answer.

“Good morning, Mom,” I croaked.

“Are you up yet?” my mother asked.

“Not yet,” I said. “My alarm hasn’t gone off yet. How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Know what time I’ve set my alarm for,” I said. “Every time you call to see if I’m up, it’s at least 10 minutes before my alarm goes off.”

“Well, maybe you should set your alarm 10 minutes earlier,” she sniffed.

“I could set it for 4:30 and you’d still call before it went off,” I said as Marie rolled out of bed, gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed for the bathroom. “I know what time I needed to get up. I gave myself two hours to get to school and the drive’s only going to be about an hour and 15 minutes.”

“From the city in morning rush hour,” Mom intoned imperiously.

“From the far north side heading outbound,” I countered. “I’m a good 20-30 minutes from downtown.”

“I don’t want you being late for school and I don’t want you speeding to get there on time,” she said. “You still need time to get ready.”

“I don’t need much time to get ready,” I said. “It’s not like I have to do my hair and makeup.”

“No, but you need to eat a good breakfast and it wouldn’t hurt you to study a little more,” she said. “Did you have time to study last night?”

“I studied during breaks at the shoot and for nearly an hour after I got to the townhouse,” I said. “As long as I can remember which one of Charlemagne’s sons got what parts of the empire, I’m good. I can give the algebra a look during athletics and lunch.”

“What time did you get to bed?” Mom asked. “Is Marie there?”

“About 11 and she’s around here somewhere,” I said.

“You’d better not have...” Mom started before I cut her off.

“Nothing happened,” I lied. “You aren’t going to be a grandmother for a little while longer. She worked all day at the shoot and has to be there again this morning. Besides, she’s out of commission right now.”

I figured my mother would be aware of that last fact. She seemed to know everything else about the women in my life. If Kacie had already started, surely Mom was dealing with it, as well. Maybe that explained the attitude. Or she might just be serious about not wanting to become a grandmother before I graduated.

These were not thoughts I wanted to be thinking before breakfast. Or any other time, for that matter.

My alarm picked that moment to go off. It took me a couple of pokes to kill it.

“What was that?” Mom asked once I quelled the racket.

“My alarm,” I said. “I now have just under two hours to get to school.”

“Then get moving,” Mom commanded. “Have a good day at school.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said as she disconnected.

If nothing else, I was wide awake after that conversation.

Marie exited the bathroom, allowing me to take a quick shower. She was dressed in another professional outfit when I came out and went to take care of her hair and makeup while I dressed.

I headed downstairs to the kitchen. There wasn’t anything in the fridge. I guess I’d just have to grab something on the way to school. My backpack was still sitting on the table. I was checking to make sure I had everything I was supposed to when Marie came down ready for her day.

“You’d better get moving,” she said after greeting me with a rather substantial kiss. “It’s almost 7.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “You going to be OK today?”

“I won’t be doing anything I haven’t done before,” she said. “It’s not like I’ve never worked on a shoot with Armand.”

“Well, be good,” I said, hefting my backpack and pulling her in for one last smooch. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said. “Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” I threw over my shoulder as I headed out.

The drive to school was uneventful. It helped that traffic was flowing smoothly. No 12-car pileups to shut things down.

I waited until I was almost at school before stopping at the Rosa’s near campus to get some breakfast. I had just enough time to scarf down a couple of breakfast tacos, which should get me through the morning. I just wish I’d had time to hit Familia Benavidez for one of Tia Connie’s creations.

I went straight to Mr. Cochran’s room once I got parked, meaning I didn’t see Sherry at her locker. I’d have to be sure and do that during the break between first and second period.

Economics was simple enough. We reviewed the test — I was pleasantly surprised to get a 96 — and pretty much goofed off the rest of the period. Mr. Cochran seemed to understand we wouldn’t get much done today. Everyone was pretty much brain-fried at this point. We’d start the next section on Monday.

“How’d you do?” Chuck Edwards asked as we exited the class at the bell.

“Good enough to keep the Beemer, but I’ve got to get through the rest of my classes now,” I said. “You?”

“Still eligible,” he grinned. “So, ya gonna go Zoolanderin’ again tonight?”

“For a few hours,” I said. “Then all day Saturday.”

“Just make sure you’re on time for your date,” he said. “I don’t want to hear Kelli bitchin’ that you messed things up.”

“I’m not going with Kelli,” I pointed out. “I’m more worried about not giving Sherry’s parents something to complain about.”

I stopped off at Sherry’s locker for a few minutes, but didn’t see her. I guess she was able to make it through her first two classes without needing to swing by.

Western Civ had a surprise in that Mrs. Edwards gave us the same option Mrs. Albracht had where we could take the test longhand or fill out a PDF. I again opted for the PDF and pulled out my laptop. No need in getting docked for poor handwriting when I could type.

The test wasn’t too bad. There were a couple of essay questions where we had to cover some things that were still decades if not centuries in the future, but all were rooted in events that happened because of the breakup of the Carolingian Empire.

My day took a definite downward turn when I arrived at Mrs. Albracht’s room for English IV. I knew we were having a substitute today, I just wasn’t ready for the one we had. I walked into the room to see Aunt Karen writing “Dr. Robinson” on the board.

If Marie had gone for sexy librarian last night, Aunt Karen was positively rocking sexy professor this morning. The high-necked, long-sleeve white blouse covered everything except head and hands. The navy pencil skirt hung about halfway down her shins. The garments did nothing to hide her curves.

At least she was wearing sensible shoes.

I took my seat and kept my head down. The last thing I needed was having Aunt Karen tell Mom that I’d caused any trouble.

When the bell rang, Aunt Karen went into full instructor mode.

“Good morning, class,” she said. “I’m Dr. Karen Robinson and I’m subbing for Mrs. Albracht today. She wanted me to remind you that your tests will be returned Monday. Today, you’re to start reading the next chapter. Feel free to ask me questions about the material. I’ve taught it at the college level and know what Mrs. Albracht expects.”

Then my aunt paused and looked right at me. I wish I could have become invisible for a moment.

“I know some of you still have tests in other subjects coming up,” she said. “If you feel the need to get in some last-minute studying, you may do so as long as you don’t interfere with the rest of the class.”

I don’t know how many of my classmates took that option, but I was pretty sure none of them were male. I think I was the only guy who didn’t ask her a question. A couple asked more than one just to keep her around.

I tried to read some of the material, then switched to algebra. I just wasn’t in condition to absorb the meaning of John Donne, et al., at the moment.

I packed up a few minutes before the bell and sat there quietly. Aunt Karen was apparently under orders to yank my chain. That or she just enjoyed doing it.

“Any questions, Mr. Robinson?” she asked with a hint of a smirk.

“No, ma’am,” I said. “I don’t think I’d really understand any answers right now, anyway. I’ve got two more tests to get through after lunch.”

“Yes, your mother wanted me to make sure you were ready,” she said. “You might want to spend a little time on this material over the weekend, though. Mrs. Albracht is going to expect you to hit the ground running on Monday. I’ll be available if you need any help.”

“Thank you, Dr. Robinson,” I said, noticing a couple of guys were staring daggers at me. Like I was going to be the reason they didn’t score with this babe.

Once class ended, I headed to my locker to dump the books except for English from my morning classes. I made sure to add the Chemistry book to Algebra II and headed for the fieldhouse.

Since athletic period was basically a study hall today, Cody grabbed me to go over algebra one more time. Morgan checked on us and pointed out a couple of things for Cody, but was of the opinion that I knew what I was doing.

“What the heck did you get me into?” Cody hissed once Morgan departed.

“Huh?” I asked in my best clueless style.

“Zoe Yeats,” he muttered. “We met at the library after school yesterday to study. She asked me to Sadie Hawkins.”

“I’m not seeing the problem,” I said with a slight grin. “She seems like a nice girl.”

“I don’t know how to dance!” he whisper-shouted, looking around to make sure he wasn’t overheard.

“I’m pretty sure you can manage,” I said, trying hard to suppress a smile. “There are probably tons of videos on YouTube you can watch. You can learn how to do just about anything off YouTube — change the oil and sparkplugs on your car, do your taxes. Heck, there’s probably something on how to perform brain surgery.”

Cody looked unsure of my claim. I decided to give him the advice Grandpa gave me the first time I attended a Saturday night dance at the Elks Lodge in Buchanan. I was maybe 9 years old.

“Just stick to the slow dances,” I said. “Two steps forward, one step back. Or just shuffle from side to side.”

“I don’t know,” Cody grumbled.

“It can’t be any harder than algebra,” I grinned. “Just let her set the pace and you’ll do fine.”

We resumed studying for the test and covered the last chapter before the bell rang. I got the feeling Cody would have rather taken another test than embarrass himself on a dance floor.

Morgan was waiting outside the locker room and we made our way to the cafeteria. We’d have to wait in line for a while, but wouldn’t be in danger of being tardy for fifth period.

“Do you have any tests left?” I asked as strolled along.

“World History in sixth period,” Morgan said. “I am so ready to be done with Ancient Greece. The Roman Empire is way more interesting to me. What do you have?”

“Algebra II and Creative Writing,” I said. “The last one is a topic of our choice. I just have to knock out at least 500 words.”

“What are you going to write about?” she asked.

“I haven’t decided,” I said. “I’ve got a couple of ideas, but I’ve already written about playing football this week. I want to get through algebra first.”

We reached the line, which was backed up but moving rather smoothly. With no physical activity planned for this afternoon, I went for the pizza for once. It was a little greasy, but a couple of slices wouldn’t kill me.

Our regular table filled quickly since we all went through the line at the same time. I was not ready for the topic of conversation.

“Did you get a look at that sub we have in English?” came from down the way. “Man, I’d like to try me some of that!”

Several guys who had the class in the morning readily agreed. Those who had it after lunch were extremely curious.

“She looks like she coulda been a centerfold,” someone else said. “Baby got back, front, sides, the whole package.”

I decided to jump in before anybody said something really stupid.

“Give it up, guys,” I said. “None of you stand a chance. She’s way out of your league.”

“Whachoo know ‘bout it, Supermodel?” Marshawn smirked.

“That if I said something like that about Ny’Quesha, I’d be a greasy smear on the floor,” I said. “You wouldn’t even wait to get me on the practice field.”

The linebacker’s eyes bulged, his lips twitched and his chest puffed up.

“You better not say nothin’ ‘bout my...” he started before realization dawned. “That woman is not your sister.”

“Aunt,” I said. “She had lunch with us at the club last month when your family came. The point’s the same.”

“Daaaaaang,” Marshawn groaned as several of our teammates moaned in frustration. “Man, you done ruint a perfectly good fantasy. Ain’t no way I’m gonna let you call me ‘Uncle Marshawn.’”

“Glad I could help,” I grinned. “I wouldn’t call you that, anyway.”

Morgan just sat there with a bemused expression.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just thinking of what some of these guys would do if they had to have that talk with your grandfather,” she said. “I remember you saying he had a place to hide the bodies where they’d never be found.”

Several guys shuddered at the thought of being on Grandpa’s bad side. I couldn’t blame them, having seen how ruthless he could be in the Julia Fairchild affair.

“I doubt it would ever get that far,” I said. “Aunt Karen would shoot them down long before that.”

“So, what kind of a teacher is she?” Chuck asked. “I’ve got English next period.”

“I couldn’t really say,” I said. “She’s given me some pointers on assignments, but today was the first time I’ve been in a class with her. She’s been teaching college for about 10 years now. We were just told to start reading the next chapter so we can be ready for Monday when Mrs. Albracht comes back.”

I purposefully omitted mentioning that my aunt had taught at an all-female school. No need to further inflame any fantasies.

At least the guys found another topic of discussion — Sadie Hawkins. It seemed a few had been loaned out by their girlfriends, particularly the ones dating cheerleaders. Most of those girls would be busy running the event.

Kelli was in full planning mode intent on making this the best Sadie Hawkins Dance ever. She had a reputation to uphold after exceeding the cheerleaders’ fundraising goal over the summer.

With a few extra minutes to kill, I disposed of my tray and returned to the table, pulled out the algebra book one more time and flipped through the first few chapters. There wasn’t anything that I didn’t feel like I had a grasp on. It was now just a matter of getting through the test.

When the bell rang, I loaded things up, hugged Morgan and headed for Sherry’s locker, which was just a couple of doors down from Mr. Henderson’s room. My date for Saturday was again a no-show. I’d just have to try again before sixth period.

I was almost the last person to reach Mr. Henderson’s room before the bell. I noticed several students with their books open, getting in some last-second cramming.

“All right, folks,” Mr. Henderson said once the bell finished ringing. “Put everything away. Those books won’t help you now.”

After taking roll, the teacher handed a stack of papers to the first person in each row.

“Take one and pass them back,” he said repeatedly as he worked his way across the room.

The test itself wasn’t too demanding — 25 questions, most of them asking to solve for x, y or z — but it was supposed to represent a good chunk of our grade for the six weeks. Mr. Henderson did say he’d take past performance into account, meaning one bad test wouldn’t tank our grade, but there was still pressure to do well. Keeping my ride was the prime motivator here.

After looking things over, I began working through the problems. The nice thing about math was there was no room for interpretation. The answers didn’t change because of things like market fluctuation or the like.

Once done, I went back and checked a couple of things, reworking the problems to make sure my first attempt didn’t have any errors. Satisfied I could keep the Beemer until November, I turned my paper in. I didn’t realize I was the first one to do so.

“Done already, Mr. Robinson?” Mr. Henderson asked. “There’s still about 20 minutes left in the period. You might want to look over your work.”

“Already have,” I said. “Unless there’s another page I didn’t see.”

“No, just the one page,” he grinned as several students looked up in panic.

“Good,” I said. “I need to let my brain cool off before seventh period.”

“By the way,” Mr. Henderson said, lowering his voice so much I had to lean close, “are you any relation to the Dr. Robinson subbing for Mrs. Albracht?”

“She’s my aunt,” I said, wondering just how many males on this campus were needlessly getting their hopes up.

“It’s my understanding she was teaching at a college back east,” he said. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve seen her around here before?”

“Did you have my sister, Kacie, in any classes the last two years?” I asked. “They could pass for sisters. My aunt’s a few inches taller, but the hair and eyes are practically the same.”

“That must be it,” he nodded. “I’d better let you start cooling your brain. Just don’t disturb the others.”

“Yes, sir,” I said and headed back to my seat.

The remaining class time seemed to drag as my classmates finished and submitted their tests in dribs and drabs. It didn’t help any that I spent the whole time staring at the clock over the door. And it didn’t help that the clock was digital. At least with an analog clock I could have watched the second hand sweep around.

I realize that I should have read some of my English, but I really was brain-fried at the moment. Trying to gain more knowledge, even in a different subject, probably would have caused algebra equations to start leaking from my ears. Or at least I felt that way.

I navigated toward Sherry’s locker at the bell. She actually showed up this time, but was in a rush. Her next class was all the way over in the West Wing.

“Hey,” she smiled before stealing a smooch. “You finally made it.”

“I tried after first period and before fifth, but you never showed,” I said, making sure to smile lest she think I was upset.

“I had tests in first, second and fifth,” Sherry moaned. “I just went from one class to the next since I didn’t need my books. Gotta go. See your tomorrow night.”

With another smooch, she was gone. I turned to see a teacher giving me a disapproving scowl, but managed to avoid getting written up for excessive PDA. Mr. Dunwoody must have laid down the law about giving detention on Fridays.

Chemistry wasn’t the blow-off period it was on Thursday, but didn’t require too much brain power. We just started reviewing the next chapter. The most mentally demanding part of the class was Elise Stirling wanting to know all about my modeling assignment and my plans for Sadie Hawkins.

I downplayed the former — I just stood around in different outfits while someone snapped pictures — and stopped short of telling her to ask Kelli Thornton about the latter.

Compared to that, Creative Writing was a breeze.

I decided to go with a topic I was sure no one else in the class would think of — who actually holds the power in a Dominant/submissive relationship. I leaned heavily on information Morgan had shared from her research into the subject and added a few of my own observations, but tried to avoid any sexual connotations. I focused on meeting the emotional needs of the submissive partner. Sex was admittedly part of it, but not the main objective. Even though it seemed like Marie and I went at it like crazed rabbits every time we were together.

By the time I was done, I had almost 1,000 words, nearly twice the required amount. It was so much easier to go overboard when typing instead of writing longhand. I was certainly glad the classes that required a lot of writing — Western Civ, English and Creative Writing — allowed us the choice.

My only concern was Mrs. Cohen would dock me for submitting inappropriate content. I’d just have to deal with it.

After class, I took my time getting out of school. I figured I’d let the crazies make their mad dash to get out of the parking lot first. I swung by my locker to dump the books I wouldn’t need for the weekend, keeping only my English book.