White Trash Mouse Ch. 02

Chapter Two: The Mouse and The Lion

Rainer propped his chin between his hands and groaned softly. He'd spent most of the night finishing his homework and he was exhausted. Not that he'd gotten any sleep even when he'd finished his homework. Mouse's comment about him being rich had stuck in his head. For a long while he could not sleep because he was furious at her. But the more Rainer thought about it, the worse he felt.

That house she lives in is so small, Rainer thought. The clothes she wears are all too big and in bad shape. To her, he must represent everything that oppressed her in the world. His family was rich, white, Republican...a poor person's greatest enemy in the world today. Rainer still thought what she'd said wasn't fair, but neither was the way she lived. Even if it was because her parents had bad jobs or poor education, it wasn't Mouse's fault.

"Mr. Aceto, pay attention," The teacher snapped, glaring at him.

Rainer lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. He despised Ms. Kowell. No wonder she never married, he thought, the old witch would make any man run for his life. Over the last year he and his English teacher had developed a distinct hatred of each other. Rainer hated her, hated her class, and hated the fact that he had her class first thing in the morning. Ms. Kowell slapped her hands down on her desk and turned to look at the class.

"Now, for the most part, I was very disappointed with these essays," She said. "There was only one person who actually did it correctly. Thank you for following directions, Ms. Brown."

Rainer, like the rest of the class, glanced over at Mouse as she sank low in her chair. She looks like she wants to sink through the floor, he thought, unknowingly echoing her own thoughts of the night before. Must be hard, being the teacher's favorite. In this classroom, with this teacher, it must have been hell. Mouse shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Ms. Kowell turned back to the class.

"However, someone in this class didn't even come close to getting it right," She said.

Now I want to sink through the floor, Rainer thought, swallowing hard. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next and as Ms. Kowell turned her cold blue eyes on him, he knew he was right. The rest of the class, with the exception of Mouse (who was pointedly looking anywhere but at him), also turned to stare.

"Mr. Aceto, what, exactly, were you doing?" Ms. Kowell asked. "The assignment was not that difficult."

"I, uh," Rainer stammered. "Well, that is to say I...um..."

"The assignment," Ms. Kowell interrupted, speaking loudly. "Was to write an essay on your thoughts of the book 'Catcher in the Rye'. Mr. Aceto writes 'I didn't like this book, because I am not a fan of baseball.'"

The class snickered. Rainer groaned, burying his head in his arms. Is it my fault that book was so damn boring and stupid? He thought. I just couldn't read it. He lifted his head to find Ms. Kowell hovering over him, with his paper in her hand.

"You will re-write the whole report, by Friday," Ms. Kowell told him. "And I want ten pages instead of five."

She dropped the paper on his desk and went back to speaking to the class. Rainer tuned her out for the rest of the period. When the bell rang, he was the first one out the door. Since he had a study hall period, he might as well get that stupid book out of his locker and start reading. Or at least, trying. As he was fishing around for the book, he felt someone tap him lightly on the shoulder. Rainer spun around to find Mouse staring at him.

"Um, I was um...you see I..." Mouse stammered. "I wanted to um...you know...what I said yesterday was...uncalled for."

Rainer shrugged. "Doesn't matter, much. I might just have to buy my grades." He lowered his voice and raised his eyebrows, peering around cautiously. "Either that, or hire a hitman to take care of Ms. Kowell."

"Perhaps," Mouse said, smothering a giggle. "Personally I'd go for the latter."

"At least she likes you," Rainer pointed out.

Mouse scowled. "Don't remind me."

Much to his surprise, Rainer found himself smiling. She didn't seem so bad now. Turning back to his locker, he finally managed to fish out his copy of that stupid book. It was battered from being shoved in his locker for so long.

"Well, maybe you could buy your grades," Mouse said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rainer asked, frowning.

"Oh! I...I didn't mean that how it sounded," Mouse stammered, turning red. "No, I meant...I meant well, I have a lot of free time...why don't you hire me to tutor you?"

Rainer raised an eyebrow. "Hire?"

"Yes, hire," Mouse replied, setting her hands on her hips. "I don't give away my precious time for free, you know."

"But you just said...oh, never mind," Rainer chuckled. "All right, Ms. Brown, how much do you charge?"

Mouse grinned. "How much can you afford to pay?"

Rainer leaned close to her. The late bell had already rung, but he hadn't noticed and didn't care. He liked her smile and the way she smelled. Like the little white bell-shaped flowers his mother loved so much. Lily of the valley, if he remembered correctly.

"I'll tell you what," Rainer said. "I'll pay you twenty dollars a day to start off, and if at the end of the week, Ms. Crazy-bitch likes my essay, I'll give you another fifty."

"Whoo," Mouse breathed. "How do you get that kind of money?"

"I'm rich, remember?" Rainer reminded her. "My parents give me a good allowance for staying in school and working hard."

"Then you definitely need to get your grades back up," Mouse commented.

Rainer nodded. "I have to stop home first, but I'll see you after school?"

"Yes, sure," Mouse said, grinning. "At least this time I'll be expecting you."

Rainer grinned as she turned and walked away. They were both very late for class. Fortunately the teachers here didn't often give detention for being late to class. They said it was a waste of their own time. I guess I should be glad they care so little, Rainer thought. Saves me from detention. When he walked into study hall, the other students were already at worked. They and the teacher looked up as he entered.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Aceto," The teacher said coolly.

"Hey, no problem," Rainer replied brightly, making the rest of the class laugh.

*****

Mouse toed a jingly cat toy beneath the couch and sighed. Why didn't I tell him we couldn't study here? she wondered, rubbing her temples. This place is so disgusting. Then again, it's better than Raggedy Mouse visiting Prince Rainer's castle. She was just wiping down the coffee table with an old rag when the door ball rang. Swearing under her breath, Mouse tossed the rag into the kitchen sink then darted to the door and pulled it open.

Rainer was leaning in the doorway, holding his backpack over his shoulder. He flashed her a boyish grin as she stepped back, allowing him inside. Mouse studied him curiously while he was not looking her way. She'd always found him to be a curiosity; longish, somewhat shaggy red-brown hair and very vibrant green eyes was not usual for boys in her school. Or boys in any school, for that matter. Well, maybe not a boy, Mouse thought, biting her lip. Boys aren't sexy.

She settled herself on the floor in front of the coffee table. Rainer watched her for a moment, then sat next to her with a sigh. Mouse got the feeling that he was used to more comfortable accommodations. Well, I work best where I'm comfortable, she thought, reaching out to inspect his history book as he set it on the table. History was not a class they shared.

"Ew," Mouse commented. "American Civil War and other such. Boring."

"Indeed," Rainer agreed, fishing through his bag. "Ah...here we go."

He produced his much battered copy of "Catcher in the Rye" and set it on the table. Mouse chuckled at his pained expression.

"It could be worse," She said.

"How?" Rainer asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We could be reading more Dickens," Mouse replied, grinning.

Rainer winced. Earlier in the year their class had waded their way through "A Tale of Two Cities". Even Mouse, who had a distinct curiosity for all kinds of literature, had been bored to tears. Pulling a bright orange gel pen from where she had tucked it behind her ear, she grabbed the book and flipped it open.

"First of all, when writing an essay for Ms. Kowell," Mouse began. "You absolutely must make it sound like this was the best book you ever read."

Rainer groaned. "Ask not the impossible!"

"Not impossible," Mouse corrected. "Improbable, yes. Impossible, no. Now, listen up."

Using her orange pen, Mouse began slowly dissecting the book on paper, breaking it down to simpler bits. It was a long, frustrating procedure, because she herself had trouble understanding what Ms. Kowell saw in the damn book. Rainer, at least, kept a pretty good sense of humor about him while they worked.

*****

Rainer leaned against the doorframe as he watched Mouse putter around the kitchen. He wasn't certain what she was making, but it smelled pretty good. Didn't think I'd still be here by dinnertime, he thought, sighing heavily. Mom is going to have my hide. He took a step further into the kitchen and padded over to Mouse, peeking curiously over her shoulder. She tilted her head back to look at him, her brown eyes peeking over the top of her frames.

"What?" Mouse asked.

Rainer grinned. "What are you cooking?"

"Spaghetti-o's," Mouse replied.

"You're kidding," Rainer insisted.

Mouse shook her head. "See for yourself."

Bracing his hands on the edge of the stove, her leaned further over her shoulder to look into the pot. It really was spaghetti-o's. Yuck, he thought, wrinkling his nose. Making them on the stove isn't going to help. Still, he was hungry, and he snatched the spoon from Mouse, taking a quick bite. It was hot, but Rainer had always had a high heat tolerance.

"Hey!" Mouse exclaimed, spinning around and grabbing for the spoon.

"I'm hungry," Rainer said, pouting.

Mouse glared at him. For a long moment he just grinned down at her, until he felt her go still. He hadn't been paying much attention, so he hadn't noticed that he was pressed right up against her. Mouse's cheeks were bright red and she seemed to be trying to back into the stove. Rubbing the back of his neck in chagrin, Rainer stepped back, and handed the spoon back to her.

"Don't be so impatient," Mouse muttered, turning back to the stove.

Dinner was quiet and only tasty because he was hungry. Afterwards they went back to work on the essay. Rainer found himself peeking sideways at Mouse when she wasn't looking. I wonder what her real name is, he thought, smiling slightly. And she should wear shorts more often, she's got some damn sexy legs. He turned his head back to the paper when Mouse glanced over at him, hiding his grin.

Rainer let his free hand drop casually to the floor as they worked. He was just curious, really. Some slow, subtle shifting brought his hand lighting against the outside of her thigh, where her shorts had ridden up. Nice, Rainer thought. Very soft. Mouse seemed not to notice, or if she did, she didn't seem to think it was on purpose.

A half hour later Mouse sat back with a groan, dropping her pen to the table. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed.

"Enough for today," Mouse said. "It's getting late."

"What, no oreos for dessert?" Rainer teased.

Mouse unfolded her legs and fell back with a soft squeak of exasperation. Rainer watched her carefully from beneath his lashes, appreciating the peek of skin showing as her shirt rode up.

"Hydrox, actually," Mouse grumbled. "On top of the fridge."

Rainer chuckled. Moving slowly, he leaned forward, watching her face. Mouse's eyes were closed. He rested his hand gently on her stomach, feeling her jump slightly at the contact. Her eyes opened wide and her breathing caught in her throat, but to Rainer's surprise she didn't push is hand away. He braced himself with his other hand and leaned closer, allowing his fingertips to slide beneath her shirt.

They stayed like that for long moments, eyes locked. Rainer slowly began to slide his hand up further, feeling her tremble. In those slow, silent moments he noticed how soft and kissable her mouth looked, how large and expressive her eyes were. Mouse ran her tongue over her lower lip and Rainer groaned softly. He heard her soft gasp as he slid his hand over her stomach and ribs, stopping when he felt the satiny material of her bra. Rainer continued to lean close until his lips hovered just above hers.

A car door slammed outside, making them jump. It was only a second, but it was enough to shatter the mood. Rainer jerked away and Mouse sat up abruptly, scooting away from him. They stared at each other warily for a long moment.

"I need to get home," Rainer said at last, his voice slightly hoarse.

"I should clean up, anyway," Mouse muttered.

Rainer quickly gathered up his books and shoved them back into his bag. What is wrong with me? he wondered as he stepped out into the cool night air. That's Mouse. She's small and pure and...and...yikes. He inhaled deeply and jerked open the door of his car. At least the cool air was helping to ease his raging body. Rainer gave himself a firm shake as he settled in the car. He was just tired, that was all. Tomorrow she would be Mouse again.

*****

Mouse flopped back onto her bed with a groan. She took her glasses off and set them on her night table. What was that all about? she wondered, resting her hand on her stomach where Rainer had first rested his. And why did I let him get away with it? She rubbed her temples. More importantly...why did I let him stop!? Mouse was definitely confused as to why it happened, but she was not confused as to how her body felt about it. Her body, at least, had wanted more.

Sitting up, she wriggled out of her shirt and bra, tossing them aside. It was suddenly unbelievably hot in this tiny cottage. Mouse pulled her shorts off, and paused with her fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties. Chewing on her lip, she laid back on the bed, sliding her hand beneath the soft cotton material. She gasped softly as her fingertips brushed aroused flesh. He hardly touched me! Mouse thought frantically. Why am I so...so excited?

She pulled her hand away from herself. This is madness, Mouse thought. She grabbed her blankets and pulled them over herself, reaching out to click off the lamp on her nightstand. She was just tired, that was all. Tomorrow she would be just fine again.