Chapter 10

Jefferson High

Monday of this first week of school had started out strangely and it had the feel of being packed full of more than I could handle. Maybe it was intuitive or just superstitious, I didn't know for sure. I was just starting to eat lunch when Jennifer stopped at my table. The freshmen and sophomores had fourth period lunch and the juniors and seniors had fifth period lunch. If you were willing to cut classes, you could show up at either one. Apparently, Jennifer had cut today.

"Hi, Edward. Can I sit down and talk to you?"

"Only if you're willing to eat half of this cafeteria pizza. I hate anchovies."

"See the little fish bones. That's how you can tell it's not pepperoni, dummy." We both laughed. "Actually, I like anchovies, so I'll join you."

Of course, that wasn't the reason she wanted to talk to me but I had to wait fifteen minutes to find out what it was.

My constant companion for this first week of the new semester, Cybil, had just left the food line with a tray when she turned and saw Jennifer sitting down. I was going to wave her over to join us, but she ignored us and sat at a different table. I suppose she felt she had sufficient reasons to dislike her.

"I apologize for following Crystal and you a month or so ago to the drive-in. I guess you know that her father has restricted her time out of the house. But that isn't the whole reason that I'm here. Crystal and I could get around those restrictions, if we really tried."

"Edward, you're a nice guy that people won't talk about if we're seen together. And, there are some things that you did to me that I think I liked. If I hadn't been so stressed out by your camera trick, I may have enjoyed it more."

"Oh, what things?," I asked.

"Well, I'd rather not get specific but if you would take me out again, I could get a better idea of what I liked."

"Would lover's lane be appropriate for what you have in mind?"

"Uh, this is a secret that I'm reluctant to divulge, but Crystal and I have a rental place. It's very small, but we could use that."

"I'm available this Friday night, if that is convenient for you."

"Thanks, Edward. I appreciate it. Do I have to come in and meet your mother and sister again? I'd feel bad about that. They were so nice that first time."

"I'll meet you at the corner of my block at 7:00pm, Friday."

"By the way, did you notice that everyone is practically ignoring me now. It's a lot better. And to think all it took was one kiss in a crowded hall. Thanks for that."

"I'm relieved it worked. I was completely out of ideas if it didn't."

As soon as Jennifer left, Cybil dumped her tray and came over to my table. We were a little early for our first afternoon class. We slowly walked towards the classroom.

"Are we going steady? You know, fidelity and a class ring, that sort of thing," Cybil mused.

"I don't have a class ring. And, no, we are not going steady. You can't date until you're sixteen, so doing nothing on a steady basis doesn't make much sense. I am allowed to date and I intend to keep doing that. What we are doing is shamelessly walking all over school holding hands. That's all we are doing. Well, that and we plan to study once a week at your house. Starting tomorrow afternoon."

"I suppose that Jennifer was just looking for a free meal."

"I expected you to come over like you have been doing. Then you would have known what we talked about."

"I heard her delightful, tinkling laughter mixed with yours and didn't want to interrupt."

"You didn't."

Community College

It was finally Wednesday and my first afternoon of college classes. Classes were at three, four, and five o'clock on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The college administration had the foresight, with a little help and harassment from our student council, to cluster classes that were applicable for the credits program in those time periods for this semester and future ones. I was fortunate in that all three of mine were on Wednesdays with Computer Science at three, French composition at four and French literature/poetry at five.

They had even scheduled a bus pickup at three on each of those days, but the students or parents were responsible for their transportation home. Apparently, the credits program rules hadn't anticipated freshmen or sophomores, who didn't have licenses to drive their own cars, qualifying for the program. I would be dropped off Thursday morning by Nicole at high school.

After all of my work fighting the bureaucracy, basically for my own selfish wants, I was paid back in spades in Computer Science 201. There was not only no beautiful girls, there were no females in the class at all. I was faced with twelve smart nerds, just like I used to be.

The saving grace was that it was being taught by a local computer engineer who really knew what he was talking about and not an academic who hadn't worked in the industry. My competitive hackles raised and I knew I was going to like this class, girls or no girls.

French composition was intended to be a how-to-write french class. Or, more specifically, how to write a story in french. The hard part with any writing class was coming up with a story idea to start with. I was fortunate in that respect. I could make of stories out of nothing. It was apparently a natural talent. This class at least had women in it. Actually, the ratio was about three to one in favor of women. Sounds good on paper until you saw what was there.

I had thought that flower-children and hippies had all died by now. These had been raised in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco and had tried to take the free love revolution to France. They were apparently back in this town and in this class. I was dismayed. The best-looking woman in the class by far, was the teacher, Nicole. She was still the excellent teacher I had loved before. I was thankful for that.

French literature and poetry was a mixed bag. There about three in the class besides Nicole that looked decent, including the one setting next to me. She did look a little familiar, but I couldn't place her until she sneered at me and murmured, "Was a lesbian worth winning?"

Now I knew who she was. A senior at Jefferson High and the snobiest and most aloof girl in the whole school. Very rich parents, and the biggest house in town. I ignored the question.

Nicole called the small class to order and explained the goals of the class for the coming semester. Then she did something a little unexpected. She asked that each of us stand and tell the others and herself where they had learned french and a little about themselves. Since the class was so small, there was only six of us, she said take a full five minutes.

Again I thanked Armanda and her hypnosis as well as Nicole. With what they had taught me, I shouldn't have any trouble. I easily filled the five minutes in talking about myself, school and family. I didn't brag about anything and I kept the number of French idioms to the absolute minimum.

"Can anyone place Edward's accent? Where an author comes from influences the literature that you'll be reading. And, it also determines the ease with which you can understand poetry." Nicole waited. Anyone care to venture a guess?"

Snobby wiggled in her seat and said, "It sounded a little strange, to a real American."

"Well," Nicole smiled, "you need to get used to it because it is the Parisian accent and the standard for French, world-wide."

I didn't look at the girl but out of the corner of my eye it looked like she deflated a little. But swords had been drawn and crossed. I suspected that Snobby didn't like me for some reason. I waited to hear the rest of the student's accents. I didn't have any trouble with the understanding. At least two had Quebec accents but their pronunciation was good. Two more were rather non-descriptive but a product of many french classes and a variety of different teachers.

Then Snobby stood up. Her first words set the tone for the rest of the five, long minutes. My name is Cindy Meyer and my daddy is this and that... We live in a big house built in... It has many rooms... I'm a senior with a 4.0 average and...

I was a little surprised. If she had spoken that way in Paris, everyone would know exactly which province her teacher had come from and understood her but would have either asked her what foreign country she was from or ignored her. It was over-filled with idioms.

"Cindy, who taught you your French?," Nicole asked.

"My French governess." Her nose was slightly elevated.

"Anyone want to venture a guess on the accent?" No one said a word. Nicole looked at all of us. "How about you, Mr. Bradford? I suspect you recognize it."

God, I loved this shit. A reposte straight into the heart. "Bretagne, provincial, and more likely, kitchen help."

Everyone was laughing but Cindy and me. She turned and looked straight at me. Her lip quivered. "How did you know, you bastard?"

Nicole saved me from having to answer. "I think it's safe to say that it was the idioms, Miss Meyer. Now let's go on with the requirements for this class..."

Nicole's Apartment

"What started the verbal fight with Cindy, Edward?"

"Besides the strange accent comment, she insulted a girl I've dated."

"You mean the prize girl that you mentioned?"

"Yes. She called her a lesbian which I doubt she really is. I think it's more likely a tolerance for girls and a dislike of most boys. But who knows for sure."

"Regardless of the cause of the fight, I want you to keep it out of the classroom. Now, Edward, let's talk about us."

"I had planned to seduce you, Edward. But the college administration has some kind of an agreement with the state four-year colleges that limits what they can offer. So, it is french 1, 2 and 3, composition and the poetry/literature class. You are skipping the first three because you don't need them and you are taking the other two this semester. So we only have four and a half months together. I am going to proposition you, not seduce you."

"I'm a french pragmatist, Edward. I can teach you all the things you need to know about women. And all the things you can and should do to women."

"Everything I ask of you though, you must agree to. Just like what I did for your father. You will be him for me, on Wednesday nights. But only if you agree. Good, I see that you want to learn. Tonight we do nothing, as we would every night if you and your family do not want this. So, ask them for their permission."

Weller House

We had decided to study on Thursdays after school. Today, when I walked her home her uncle met us at the door. Cybil looked surprised that he was there. Her uncle, who's name was Bill, invited me to have a beer with him in the den. Cybil went to her room.

I few sips into the beer, Bill got to the point. "Edward, I think that basically you're a nice boy. I also suspect that you are sexually active. I think that's the euphemism that's being used now. I'm not looking for a confession. But I do expect Cybil to be a virgin on her sixteenth birthday. I expected the same of Crystal. After that, girls are old enough to make those decisions on their own. So, rather than watch you and worry about what you're doing on Thursdays in her bedroom studying, I'm simply going to trust you. I hope you're man enough not to betray that trust."

Talk about being mouse-trapped. I think he had intentionally given us some latitude and at the same time used my honor to guarantee I wouldn't take her virginity. I thought about it and knew I wouldn't betray his trust in me.

I was also invited to stay for dinner that first night and so I called Mom at work to get an OK. When the beers were gone, Bill said he was going back to work and they would be back to fix dinner at five.

I'm sure that after Cybil had told him that we would be studying together, he thought he had better be here on the first afternoon to inform me of his concerns. I didn't mind too much, after all, he was just being responsible for her care and well-being.

I was going to try desperately to keep our relationship at the fourteen-year-old level. A little kissing and petting, maybe. I would leave the extent of that up to Cybil. But I suspected that it would be getting harder every week. But it still left us about two hours on Thursdays alone in the Weller house. Crystal always stayed away until dinner time according to Cybil and Bill and his wife ran the family real estate business until five or later.

For this first Thursday, at least, we spent the whole time actually studying. We did have two weekly quizzes on Friday, so it was time well spent. Cybil was very bright and a good student. We would both be helped by studying together.

Crystal walked in the front door a few minutes after five. I was sitting on the living room couch, and Cybil was sitting the table in the dining room. The other Wellers were fixing dinner. Crystal looked at me and blinked a couple of times. "Sometimes your timing is perfect, Edward. I've been thinking about you all day." This was said in a low voice as she approached the couch. She glanced towards the dining room and then took my cheeks in her hands and gave me a hard kiss.