Man-Shaped Mirror

"Do you think you'll stay here and teach for a long time?"

"It depends. You never know." The last of his dinner has disappeared. He eats very quickly. "Eventually I might go back to grad school. Go abroad, maybe London."

"That'd be cool. I can't wait until I'm in college already."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. It's suffocating to be here sometimes, you know? A high school student, in the suburbs."

"I hear you."

A brief lull. I can't finish the noodles—my stomach is too tense.

"You know what I've noticed, Mister Paulhan?"

"What?" he asks, my question nudging him out of his reverie.

"Just from the books we've read in class, and all the other ones I've read before, it's so easy to see what the author is like just from reading what he's written."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's like, they offer up everything they know and how they feel and just expose it to everyone. Like they open themselves up to scrutiny."

"And how do you think that is?"

"I don't know, the choice of their words, how they form the characters, what they have happen to them. Even when the writer's voice is as neutral or distant as possible, you can still get a sense of what kind of process they went through to filter the results." I look on as he gathers the trash from his dinner. "It's like a kind of compulsive honesty that can't be helped."

"Yes." He motions matter-of-factly with his hands. "It's a catharsis."

Paulhan smiles, a faraway look in his eyes. I shudder slightly, satisfied with being able to impress him.

"I'm really glad I have you in one of my classes, Sabine," he says suddenly, wiping his mouth. "You're an exemplary student."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"I think you're very intelligent. Maybe even scary-smart." He leans back, arms behind his head. "I get the feeling that you become lazy when you don't feel challenged, though."

I stare at him.

"I can tell you bore easily," he added. His face is expressionless, like he's waiting for me to counter him.

Can I? Maybe. I know something that can throw him off his feet.

"You know, Mister Paulhan, I like you."

"Why do you like me?" he asks, suddenly alive with curiosity. His tongue darts out momentarily, wetting his lips. I hungrily savor the moment.

"Because I think I see myself in you." I smile. The gray of his eyes deepens.

"Thanks, Sabine." He nods gently. "That's a very special complement."

We glance at the clock, almost in unison.

"So I gotta get some writing done," he says, "let's get you home."

Sun Oct 1, 2006 1:30 PM

"What's his apartment like?" Katie asks, sucking on her Slurpee. "Does he have a lot of books?"

"Yeah I guess so. Not as much as I thought there'd be."

We pass through throngs of people, ambling leisurely, aloof. The mall is packed with families, teenage couples, the elderly. Mall-echoes reverberate all around us.

Maybe he'd be here today, too.

A muggy blast of odors assaults us as we stroll by the food court. Onion rings, pizzas, lemonade, cheeseburgers, pretzels, chicken teriyaki... I scan the small and fussy ocean of people for a tall blond man.

"So? Continue?"

"Well, he doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Ooh, a lonely bachelor. Is he looking for one?"

"He said he is, but I don't know. He said he dates sometimes."

Katie cocks an impeccably tweezed eyebrow. "So he's a player."

"I don't know... it doesn't seem like he is. Maybe."

"Sounds like he is," she says flatly. "That's probably why he's got you all hot and bothered. I bet he's busy screwing lots of girls. What a pig."

A display in Bebe catches her attention. "Sabine! Isn't that cute? That skirt is so me."

"It's got all this flowery crap on it."

"Oh shut up. Don't be a square."

"Weren't we talking about Paulhan?"

"Oh, right," She rolls her eyes, plainly annoyed. We continue walking. "Keep going."

"Well, I think it's getting more intense."

"Uh-huh. Can you even tell if he likes you?"

"I'm sure he likes me as a student, but not explicitly in any other way. I get this feeling that he's attracted to me, though."

"Does he know that you like him?"

"I don't know... if he does know, he's playing dumb."

"Okay... weird."

"He definitely likes showing off. I can tell he really likes my attention. And then there's been a lot of times where he's holding me at arm's length, but inviting me to push closer with the other hand. Do you know what I mean?"

"I don't think I get you."

"Like he'll try to push my buttons, like get me excited or upset. And then as soon as I push closer, he'll pull away again. There's just this weird attraction that pushes us together and pulls us apart."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Listen to you. It's like you're playing a game or something." Kate is staring straight ahead, her posture relaxed and casual.

"Yeah, I guess it is a game."

"Ugh, it's always a game with you. Seriously—why don't you just tell him how you feel? Get it out in the open."

"Because that wouldn't be any fun! I want him to make the move first. That's how I want to win."

She cocks an incredulous eye at me, "Do you hear yourself, Sabine? You're crazy. He's your teacher."

I have nothing to say.

"What do you want from him, anyway?"

The question looms large in my head. A hundred possibilities, frozen in candid stills, flicker before my eyes.

"I want to fuck him."

Kate turns to me, wide-eyed.

"Fuck him? Sabine, you really are insane. How would that ever happen?" she snaps. "And even if you did, like the one-in-a-million chance that you did, then what? Would you be his girlfriend? Go to the movies together, hold hands, get all cozy with him?"

She's got me.

"I just don't see a good ending to this, Sabine, if there is one at all. And there just isn't. It's not like you just fuck someone and then your life's over."

"I don't know. I just get off on being so infatuated with him, I guess. He can be so sadistic sometimes, like he really enjoys putting me on the spot. I don't know why, but it gets me excited to make him uncomfortable, too."

"You need help. Why do you love being miserable?" Kate sighs. "This is like some... messed up love story."

We turn the corner and are met with a window display full of prom dresses. Kate is suddenly ecstatic. She bounds towards the glass and points excitedly at a pink gown. It's satin, with a sweetheart neckline. It's very beautiful.

"That's the one!" she cries. "I've been thinking of getting that one. Isn't it so gorgeous?"

"That's perfect for you. You should try it on."

She grabs my arm and hurries me into the store. I wander around while she hassles an employee about the dress.

Prom dresses seem to come in only so many colors. Black, white, pink, red, blue... A rack stocked with gray and beige dresses stands out from the others. As I move closer, I notice a long, strapless gown of seamless gray silk. It's a light gray—almost silver—and cold and slippery to the touch.

"Hey! What do you think?"

I spin around and see Kate, who looks like a vintage picture bombshell. She looks fabulous.

"You look like Audrey Hepburn."

She giggles and teases the satin as she makes her way towards me. She notices the gray dress in my hand and examines it carefully, running her hand through the silk.

"This would be perfect on you, Sabine. It's so sexy."

New York City

Sun Jul 7, 2002 9:54 PM

He was completely relaxed. His countenance was mild and serene. He held a cigarette between two nimble fingers. A humid breeze carried away the smoke as he exhaled.

She could hear a siren blare in the distance, the vibrations cradled by buildings several blocks away. Men and women laughing, children screaming, dogs panting. The sounds of the city reverberated against beams of iron, slabs of concrete, walls of glass and wood. Rich smells wove around them. Sweet aromas of fresh bread wafted out of a nearby pizzeria. Tires, colognes, tobacco, expensive leather shoes, wet cement...

Night was falling, and in the sky was a dazzling concert of dark blues and reds.

"Your turn," he said.

She looked away from the corner, where stoplights were clicking and switching, tireless in their posts.

A game of Go was in progress. Comparable quantities of little white and black stones were scattered neatly upon the board.

Next to them, cold glasses of beer were encrusted with condensation.

"I don't know how to play," she confessed. Her brow wrestled a knot of worry. She shakily teased the hem of her dress.

"You've played up until now." He took another drag, slowly and with ease, as he studied her.

"I think I just got here. Someone must have played before me."

"No, you've been here all along."

Reclining into his chair, he slid his long, athletic legs under the table. Their feet touch. She quickly pulled back.

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Because I can see you," he replied, his eyes cool and piercing gray. They seem to be reading each and every hidden molecule in her body. "Your pieces are on the board."

"Am I winning?"

He laughs—a soft, easy, exquisite laugh.

Wed Oct 11, 2006 8:17 PM

Joe is in a tux. He looks like a prince, but his shoulder is starched and scratchy.

"You look so good, Sabine," he says softly. He pulls me closer and runs his hands over my back.

"Mm, so do you."

I close my hands around his neck and lay my head against his chest. Silently, I scan the room.

I catch a glimpse of Kate, just crowned Homecoming Queen, serenading her King Branden. About a third of the school is here in the gym, which has been converted to a makeshift ballroom. The lighting is very low, of course, and spots of blue and magenta lights dot the floors and walls. A sappy song warbles out of several large speakers in the far corner. On another night, I would be pretty uncomfortable here.

Joe nuzzles my hair. I could feel his breath on me—warm and just slightly damp. I suddenly realize that I had forgotten to check the parking lot while Joe was changing out of his football gear. The white BMW would have been the telltale sign I was looking for.

We dance—slowly shuffle, really—for what seems like half an hour. Occasionally Joe would smooth his hands over my back and shoulders, pulling me close for a soft kiss. It's very romantic, but I'm very distracted. And antsy. I clear my throat.

"Uhm, excuse me for a minute. I have to use the bathroom," I say, breaking our embrace.

"Oh, okay. I'll go say hi to some buddies over there. See you in sec."

Do I really need to pee? Yeah, I can. I make my way through a loose floor of shuffling couples, towards the exit. Behind the gym is the student parking lot. No white cars.

I take my time as I dry my hands and exit the bathroom. The night is clear and a half-moon is hovering in the sky, bathing everything in blue. I check the parking lot again as I start heading back. Paulhan is shutting the door of his car. He's parked in the closest row.

He sees me and waves, smiling pleasantly. I wave back, standing now, then smooth out my dress.

"Hey, Sabine," he says, bounding up to me. "Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Yeah, I know. Joe really wanted me to come, so here I am."

"Is that so. I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

Paulhan is dressed very well. Elegant, even. Narrow, tan-colored dress pants. An immaculate white shirt and black silk tie. A handsome blazer that matches his slacks.

"Oh, Joe's not my boyfriend."

Together, we start walking towards the gym, our pace steady and careful.

"You look nice, Sabine." I can't help but watch him as he studies me, quickly taking me in. Our proximity is making me delirious. I hold on to my composure.

"Thank you."

He cocks a smile at me as he strides into the room. "Be good," he quips. "See you around."

***

I steal a glance at him as Joe gently tightens his clasp around my waist. Paulhan is sitting in a folding chair at the side of the room, plastic cup in hand, speaking with a couple of students. The gaudy lighting only makes his profile even more striking than I've ever seen.

"You're beautiful, Sabine." Joe is running his fingers through my hair. Now he's tracing the shape of my face, teasing the edges of my lips. "Your skin is so soft."

"Mmm..." I've got it.

"Are you okay? You're quiet," he says, his voice hushed.

"I'm fine! Just enjoying this." I shift my hand to the back of his neck. It's velvety with closely shaven hair. I brush it ever so lightly with my fingertips. Joe shudders softly.

"What are you trying to do, hm?" A satisfied smile spreads on his face.

"Just touching you."

I press my face a little closer into him, watching Paulhan out of the corner of my eye. The students have disappeared. His steady gaze is fixed in my direction. He's toying with the cup.

Joe nearly purrs as I run a hand through his hair. I raise up my face and plant a slow, lingering kiss on his lips. The attention and our closeness is making him hard. He pulls me close, rather urgently this time, and nudges my mouth with his. We melt into a deep kiss, heated and breathy. My hands trail over the sides of his face, his neck, his shoulders, then slip around to flatten against his back.

We break the kiss and he holds me close, my chin on his left shoulder. I feel him grind his erection slowly, silently into my belly.

Paulhan is still in the chair. He's leaned back, his legs crossed. He looks away for several seconds, scanning the room. Then, calmly, he turns his head towards me. His eyes are held steady in a hard, heavy gaze. His jaw tenses visibly.

"Do you want to know a secret?" I whisper into Joe's ear as we turn in a slow circle.

"Yeah?" His breath is heavy and moist.

"I can't wear any underwear with this dress." My upper lip grazes the fat diamond stud in his earlobe.

"Really?"

"If you don't believe me you can check."

His eager hands begin to inch down, obediently on cue, and flattens against my body. The heat of his skin quickly seeps through my gown. He caresses the small of my back, my waist, my hips, then slowly cups around my ass. They creep down, stopping just above my thigh. His fingers tickle as they brush against my legs.

"Mm, so you're right." Joe licks his lips, his expression feverish with mischief.

Miss Reilly suddenly appears to the right of us.

"Hey you two, watch yourself now." She winks at me. "We're keeping an eye on you guys."

I smile and apologize, peering back at Paulhan's seat.

It's empty.

Thu Oct 12, 2006 1:01 PM

Kate and I climb out of her car and start strolling through the parking lot, back towards school.

An inexplicable frenzy is gnawing at me. I look for him everywhere. Tall. Gray eyes. Blond hair. Simple clothes. Men bearing these characteristics I pick out of crowds almost immediately. Every last one pales in comparison. Faulty duplicates. They simply lack his perfection. At school, I assess every boy, searching for traces of the Paulhan in his more formative teenage years. He's not there.

"Tripping about Mister Paulhan has really changed you." Kate says suddenly, as if reading my mind.

I'm stunned.

"What do you mean?"

"I can just tell. You're quieter. You carry yourself differently now. You even walk different. I see more and more people notice you. I think you've lost a little weight."

"How so?"

"I don't know. You just move with, like, some weird kind of determination now."

"Oh."

Kate pulls off her shades. She studies me intently.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"... I don't know. No, I don't love him."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm infatuated."

"This is some pretty serious infatuation then," she scoffs.

"Didn't you once tell me that love is timeless? I don't love him. I'm infatuated."

"If you know it's going to pass, then why are you letting it take over you? It's affecting you really seriously, Sabine."

Why do I? I know why.

"I don't think I'm ever going to meet someone like him again."

We're approaching the hallway that leads to the quad. Kate is silent. Moments pass before she speaks again.

"Sabine, I know you're really smart. But I think sometimes it works against you. How do you even know that you're not just getting a kick out of obsessing over him?" A quiet graveness looms in her eyes, her voice. "If Paulhan really is leading you on, it's just totally wrong. And if you do anything with him, anything serious, it's just not going to end well, no matter how I see it."

She forces a weak smile.

"You know, if you end up getting in trouble, I'm so going to make fun of you."

***

I affect an air of indifference as I enter Room 54.

"Hi, Sabine." Paulhan is absorbed with his work on the computer. He doesn't make eye contact and his face is expressionless. Again, unreadable.

"Hi Mister Paulhan." I try to imagine what it must be like to see his top student stroll into the room, the day after he had seen her kissed and fondled. What does it feel like? Is it hot? Is it bitter?

He makes no mention of the dance, or anything from last night.

"So I've got this stack of worksheets from the sophomore class that needs to be graded."

"Okay."

"It's right here. The key is on top."

Sixth period continues with a deafening silence. Minutes tick by. So I'll have to bring up the dance first.

A soft knock on the door shatters our awkward intimacy. The door opens a crack and a slim girl pokes her head in.

"Hey, Mister Paulhan!" she exclaims. He looks up, excitement set alit in his features.

"Hi Judy! How's it going?"

"I finally finished that worksheet! Really, really sorry that it's late, Mister Paulhan!"

Judy bounces in, a completed worksheet flailing in her hand.

"Don't worry about it. You can give it to Sabine. She's grading them right now, actually."

"Oh, okay," she tweets sweetly, eyeing me quietly as she hands me the paper.

"This isn't going to happen again, is it?" Paulhan asks, playing up the gravity of his position. This is a sick parody.

"Of course not, Mister Paulhan!" Judy practically bats her eyes. Her lashes are brown and lush. "Never again, I promise."

"Good, that's what I like to hear," he says, folding his arms. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" She trots out of the room, glancing at me before disappearing out the door.

I look back at Paulhan. A positively fiendish smirk is suspended upon his face.

"That was Judy. She's one of the best in American Lit."

His eyes sparkle like faceted gems as he studies me.

Fri Oct 13, 2006 7:41 AM

I'm swimming in an impossibly long pool. The water is very blue and very, very deep. The sun is setting and the sky is swathed in bright pink.

Dozens of animals are in the pool with me, swimming laps like me. Zebras, ostriches, flamingoes, tigers, lions, monkeys, baboons. The pool is divided into three or four lanes with blue and white plastic buoy partitions.

I'm tiring quickly. I haven't swam a lap yet. I haven't even reached the other end. Slowly, I approach the opposite wall. By the time I reach the edge, I am struggling for my breath.

Completely spent, I rest my elbows on the edge of the pool, which is rounded and cast from concrete. I lay my head down and see Paulhan next to me.

He's seated beside the pool, his legs dangling over the edge into the water. He is wearing only a pair of sand-colored chinos, rolled up to his calves. His chest is smooth and dusted with hair, muscles softly defined. He reminds me of a grown Huckleberry Finn, floating down the Mississippi on his raft.

Paulhan watches me, completely oblivious of the cacophony of animals in the pool. He says nothing. His gaze appears cool and impassive, but I sense a smoldering, wicked something deep within his pupils.

I edge closer to him. As if in response, he reaches out and cradles the back of my head with one large, sturdy hand.