Chapter 5

She was almost to her car when someone hailed her. She turned to see a man about her age approaching.

"You're Cecelia Carter, right?" he asked. His eyes did what every other man's eyes did. They danced up and down her body.

"Yes," she said.

"I'm Ted Masters," he said. "I'm a new teacher here, too. I was talking to that secretary woman in the office and asked about you."

"Mrs. Miller?"

"Is that her name? Anyway, I have an idea. It would be good for both of us."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Well, I found an apartment, but it's a little steep for a beginning teacher's salary. Two of us would make it really workable, though, and I know you're staying with your parents, so I thought I'd offer to be roommates with you."

"Roommates?"

"Yeah, you know, share expenses and stuff."

"How do you know I'm staying with my parents right now?" she asked.

"I told you. I asked about you. I saw you around and I needed a roommate, so I asked around."

"Why did you think I'd need a roommate?" she asked. This whole thing sounded weird.

"Actually, I hoped you would," he said glibly. "And it turns out you do, so how about it?"

"I don't think so," she said, almost carefully.

"Aww, come on," he said. "It would be fun. We're both the same age, and probably have the same interests. And most of the other teachers here are a lot older. It could be a lot of fun. Besides, that way we don't have to go through the dating thing. It's perfect."

"The dating thing?"

"Well," he smiled. "It is a one bedroom apartment, after all."

"You want me to move in with you into a one bedroom apartment," she said, her voice too steady. Unfortunately Ted didn't notice how tight her voice had gotten. He thought he was on a roll. He didn't even notice the car that rolled to a stop behind him.

Cecelia looked past him to see Bob rolling down the window of his car.

"It's perfect!" Ted said. "We both know the deal. This is the twenty-first century. I'm clean, and I love condoms. We get to have all the sex we want and neither one of us has to mess around with dating. I mean what if one of us went to a bar and ended up going home with one of our student's parents or something. This is hassle free — guaranteed — no muss, no fuss, just super hot sex and our own little place to get away from the world when we leave school." He smiled brightly.

"You don't even know me!" she gasped. Bob was just sitting there, listening.

"I know everything I need to," he said smugly. "You were a cheerleader, and you're stuck back in the same town you left to go to college. Everybody around here thinks of you as cute little Cecelia or something. You don't even have a boyfriend. Who are you going to date—old high school friends? I'm here to solve your problem. I played a little football in high school, so I know your type and you know mine. This is perfect, I'm telling you. No complications. We have a good time, get enough experience to get out of this one horse town into a GOOD school district in a big city, and then the world is ours!"

"Hey Cecelia!" said Bob loudly. Ted turned around. Bob ignored him. "Do you think you could put your sex life on hold until after the faculty meeting? We're going to be late."

"What faculty meeting?" asked Ted, looking confused.

"The one for the summer school teachers," said Bob.

"I didn't hear about any faculty meeting," complained Ted.

"You must have missed the memo. Cecelia?"

"I'm coming!" she said breathlessly. "I'll get back to you," she said to Ted, as she almost ran around the back of Bob's car and jumped in.

"Where is it?" wailed Ted. "I can't miss my first faculty meeting!"

"You know where Barney's Bar-B-Q is, out on highway sixteen?" asked Bob.

"No, I just got to town a week ago," Ted complained.

"Can't miss it," said Bob. "Just get on sixteen and go west. Big neon sign in front of a quaint little place. They're going to feed us there too, and it's great eating." He started to drive off.

"Wait! Let me follow you!" wailed Ted.

"Don't want to be late!" yelled Bob out his window. He accelerated, turned left at the corner and then took the next left too. From there he turned up an alley and pulled into somebody's back yard.

"What are you doing?" asked Cecelia breathlessly.

"Just call me Saint George," said Bob, smiling. "We'll give the dragon time to get lost and then I'll take you back to your car.

"What about the faculty meeting?" she asked.

"Don't tell me you swallowed that, too."

"Well..." She blinked as she realized he'd just gotten her out of an awkward situation. "Yes," she finished.

"I think I'll have a word with Horace about that young man," said Bob.

"I still can't believe he said that," she sighed. "That's TWICE I've been hit on today!"

"Twice?"

"Some football player in the cafeteria thought I was a senior. He and his friends were telling me what huge cocks they had." She blushed and covered her mouth. "I can't believe I said that! And I called him a little prick too! Coach Nickerson had to come save me then, and you just saved me from that ... that ... guy!" She started to sniffle.

Bob reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Take it easy," he said. "You're just going through a transition period, that's all."

"No I'm not!" she said angrily. "Do you want to know why I don't have a boyfriend?" she snapped. "Because all the men I met in college were just like that. And now I'm OUT of college and those men haven't changed one iota! Men are pigs. All they think about is sex. The only man I interacted with today who DIDN'T try to put a move on me was Coach Nickerson!"

"I didn't try to put a move on you," said Bob.

"You asked me out for a drink," she argued.

"I offered you a beer at my house, too," said Bob. "That doesn't mean I'm putting a move on you."

Cecelia's emotions were already at a fever pitch. She couldn't deal with all the things that were rushing through her mind, among them the fact that the man she still had an unwilling crush on DIDN'T want to put a move on her.

"So you're not interested in me at all?" she blurted.

Bob had been around women who acted like this. They were impossible to understand, and it was likely that no matter what you said, it would be the wrong thing. But he had to work with this girl. She was acting like a girl, so he thought of her that way. He tried to think of a way to lift her up a little, without getting her even more riled up. That necessitated ignoring her actual question.

"Cecelia, you're very attractive to men," he said. "You have to know that. You're drop dead gorgeous, and young and full of life. The biological imperative drives men toward you. But that doesn't mean you have to give up men. You just have to stick to your standards and let them know when you're available and not, that's all."

"I'm NOT available!" she shouted. "MEN ARE PIGS!"

"Cecelia," he pleaded. "Don't let them get to you like this. Don't give up on all men just because a few of us are jerks."

"I might not feel this way if I ever met one who wasn't a jerk," she moaned. At the same time she thought about how she should be telling Bob HE wasn't a jerk.

He tried for a little humor. "So ... you're rethinking your stance on lesbianism?" He smiled to let her know it was just a joke, but her response was completely serious.

"Oh, I know I'm not a lesbian," she said quite seriously, thinking about how she felt about this man.

"And how does one know that?" he asked, still joking around.

"One just knows," she said calmly. "Have you ever been attracted to a man?"

He realized she was serious and the grin faded from his face. Suddenly there was nothing girlish about her. It made him nervous, for some reason that she'd ask him that question seriously.

"No," he said.

"Then you understand how one can know."

"Look," he said. "I'm sorry. I was just joking around."

"I know, but sometimes emotions aren't something to joke about." She smiled. "I've had a hard day."

"Sounds like it," he agreed. "What seems strange about that is that you spent most of it with me. Now I'm feeling a little guilty for some reason."

"Well don't," she said. "I should have included you with Coach in the list of men who didn't hit on me."

"I forgive you," he said grinning.

"But I'm not drop dead gorgeous," she said.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes ... you ARE."

"Why are you telling me this?" She seemed quite serious.

"Because you need to know there are men who appreciate your obvious physical attributes who won't slaver all over you like Ted back there."

Cecelia felt like there were butterflies in her stomach, and ants crawling all over her nipples. She barely stopped herself from reaching up to squeeze them. He was so obviously serious as he said such wonderful things. He wasn't pawing her, but she knew he found her at least attractive. She didn't know what to do about that, and she felt helpless. He was, in a way, proving that what he said was true, and that was a world she wasn't sure she would be able to cope with. She felt shaky and wished she could just go to sleep and ignore the world.

"Is the offer for that drink still good?" she asked suddenly.

"It could be," he said.

"Could be?"

"How about we eat something too," he suggested. "And that doesn't elevate it to a date. We both have to eat, you know."

"Dutch treat?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. He didn't have a lot of extra money anyway.

"You're on," she said. Somehow she felt better already. She giggled. "But not at Barney's Bar-B-Q," she said.

"Oh no," said Bob firmly. "Never there. Have no fear of that."

It occurred to her that she'd never heard of Barney's Bar-B-Q. She said as much.

"Don't tell me you sent him on a wild goose chase," she said.

"No, it exists. It's been there for a couple of years now."

"So why never there?" she asked.

"It's a gay biker bar," he said, smiling grimly.