Edge of the World Ch. 01

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to darken the mood like that."

"No you're right," David said. "I wanted to know what to expect. I appreciate you telling me the truth. Way more useful than the guidance counselor guy ever was."

The realization that even the students could see through the guidance counselor's uselessness surprised a brief giggle out of her, and the room grew quietly comfortable once again. They each gravitated towards their own little distractions, Jessica to her trashy romance novels by candlelight, David to a crossword in an old newspaper.

***

"Uh, Ms. McCormick?"

"Yeah?"

"You really need to get out here and see this."

David's head disappeared through the front door. They had just finished an exorbitant lunch, and the pile of dishes in the sink was beginning to become a tower. Nevertheless, she put it off once more to quickly slide into some thick pants and a jacket before joining the boy in the yard.

"What's wrong?" she asked, shoving her way through the screen door nearly blocked with snow. Instead of a crude trail to the pile of firewood in the back yard, David stood in the driveway, staring above the house.

"You know that big cracking noise we heard earlier and thought was lightning?"

"Yeah," she remembered, "why?"

"I found it."

"What do you- oh god," she moaned.

Close to the side of her house was an immense elm tree. Over fifteen feet in the air, one of its largest, thickest limbs dangled in the wind, with the only a much smaller, heavily bent branch preventing it from falling on the roof. It didn't look like it'd be a fatal impact, but if it landed with all that weight at its heavy narrow end, piercing the shingles and who knows how many layers more so the eventual melting snow got in...

"Damnit," she muttered. She had told her boyfriend, multiple times, that fucking tree was a danger, and continually ignored her concerns. Now here it was, ready to bomb her living room and maybe the corner of the bedroom, not just with the weight of the wood itself but what had to be a significant amount of ice layered around it.

"What do we do?" David asked.

Jessica had no idea. They could try rooting around the garage for something to chop the whole tree down, angling to cut so it fell away from the house, but she was fairly certain all she had was a dull axe in the back. Considering the base of the tree was too wide to wrap her arms around, that wasn't looking very likely.

"We could tie it," David suggested, pointing to the main branch. "Wrap some heavy rope around it and balance the weight out with the other branches."

"Absolutely not," she said, aghast. "That's nearly twenty feet in the air, and the tree is iced over. There's no way in hell I'd let you climb it."

"Do you want a tree to crash on your couch in the middle of the night?"

"Well no, but-"

"Do you see any other solution?"

Jessica remained silent, fearful and anxious.

"We need to do this before it gets dark or storms again," David said. "Let's get everything ready."

So with the little clouded sunlight remaining the pair gathered their supplies and began the operation. There was a ladder David could use to reach the roof, but after that all he had was the sharp nail-removing end of a hammer to help claw his way to the potential widowmaker.

Jessica watched from the yard, wincing at every crack in the ice and groaning branch the boy trusted his weight on. Several times her breath caught in her throat when his hand slid across the slick frozen wood and he frantically shifted his balance to compensate. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to reach the dangling limb, and unraveled the rope strung across his chest.

"Oookayyy," he hissed, once he'd swung the rope across and began to tighten it to another sturdy limb. "Please don't break, please don't break, please don't break..."

Both of them heaved a sigh of relief when the first support was firmly tied in place, and the next two he had length for went much faster. Even if the original was to give way, the rope would hold it in place until she found someone to take it down piecemeal or join the entire tree in its eventual chopping.

Things were going far better than she dared hope, and she was about to spiritedly clap for her house's savior, when what appeared to be a strong foothold gave way and David's fumbling hands failed to find purchase. He fell the eight feet to the ground below, sinking into the snow back-first.

The drop looked terrifying but with its soft, almost anticlimactic thud, it was hard to imagine it doing much damage. She hurried to him, heart hammering in her chest but confident he'd just had the wind knocked out of him, when she saw a bright red splotch of snow where his head had landed.

"David!" she screamed, struggling harder to reach him. She bent down and pulled his upper body from the snow with a grunt. Distantly she recognized a half-buried branch in the snow, its sharpened snapped edge jutting from the manmade crater, as the cause for the open wound. The cut was along the side of his head, in front and just above his ear.

"David!" she repeated, shaking his head. "David? Come on, please wake up!"

"Ugh..." the boy groaned. His hand emerged from the snow and applied pressure to the small but deep gash. "Son of...a bitch...that hurt!"

"You scared the shit out of me!" she gasped.

"The wind...knocked out...of me," David gradually explained. "Help me up."

Jessica's hands had gone numb by the time they managed to haul each other back into the house. She sat the boy down on the couch before digging through his first aid supplies and returning to patch him up.

"Okay now hold still," she said, standing over him with an alcohol wipe in a hand still tingling from the cold. "You're insane, you know. I can't believe you did that for me."

David winced at the alcohol but smiled. "I couldn't just let your house get wrecked, right?"

"Still, you...you really did a lot for me. I have no idea how to thank you."

She surprised herself by nearing the point of tears. Fate may have played things differently in many ways had the boy not been on the side of that road; maybe she wouldn't have stalled out on the hill over concern of injuring a student in her car, maybe she wouldn't have twisted her ankle and made it to the house fine on her own, maybe she would have breezed through that last 24 hours perfectly fine. But there was no denying that, had David not been around, she would have been endangered by an iceberg of a tree branch with no means of stopping it.

"It's really okay, Ms. McCormick," the boy said. It was difficult to tell whether his face was blushing or still pink from the winter chill.

She cleaned the wound as best she could and, not wanting to walk all the way back for a fresh cloth, pulled the bottom of her shirt around her thumb to wipe the last few smudges of dirt away before applying the bandage. It took less than two seconds, and all it really exposed was her taut stomach, but she had very conflicted feelings of concern and faint thrill from the way David's eyes were suddenly wide.

"I'll make the meal tonight, "Jessica assured him. "Whatever you feel like eating, it's on me."

"No, come on, it's my turn-"

"And then you nearly died saving my roof" she said, overriding him. "You just rest, thaw out and take it easy for tonight, David. Teacher's orders, you understand?"

The boy acquiesced, and the two enjoyed another fine meal together. There was a small pang of guilt and gratitude every time she happened to glance at bandaged wound, but she had no idea how she could possibly reciprocate such a deed. Upon seeing how stiffly he rose from the table and lurched to his bedding, however, inspiration struck.

"No no no," she told him. He stopped and slowly turned, confused. "You take the sofa tonight."

"Ms. McCormick please, I'm fine with the floor, really."

"You fell out of a tree and can barely walk. Come on, no arguments."

Despite his initial protests, it wasn't long after he settled into the sofa that his breathing slowed to a regular doze. Jessica, meanwhile, found herself cocooned in the blankets and pillows David had used the night before, where the unmistakable combination of sporty deodorant and teenage hormones was already imprinted into the cloth. Typically she had endured such smells, not unlike a rancher oblivious to the scent of a busy stockyard, but this time...

She pulled one of the pillows closer and buried her face in it, absorbing the masculine presence. It brought a yearning for her boyfriend that was both mental and worryingly physical. There was a sudden flush of heat in her body that had nothing to do with her proximity to the fireplace, and she willed it away. After all her (so far) unnecessary worrying over David being the one to bring out some unwanted sexual tension, she refused to be the one to make things weird.

***

Morning did not come easily for Jessica. Tossing and turning through the night, occasionally startled awake by the howling winds outside, she dove in and out of confused, exciting dreams. When she could take no more of it and the sun may or may not begin to make its rise, she quietly rose from the floor and and padded to the chilly bathroom with a singleminded purpose.

She set the shower and began to undress immediately. The cold set her tingling body to goosebumps and turned her nipples pleasantly hard before she hopped into the tub and blessedly steaming stream. The images and urges her subconscious tortured her with through the night were indistinct but left her in a state of arousal not even the frigid walk through the hallway had cooled.

Slowly, with fingers spread wide and the shower splashing across her chest, her hands slid across her thighs, against her waist, creeping up higher until she held both tender breasts in hand. She felt her palms glide across her pointed nipples, felt that pleasing wicked thrill as she gently pulled, teasing herself over and over.

She turned and tilted her head, letting the warmth flow past her long red hair. Breathing a little heavier, she leaned forward inch by inch, until the hard steam struck the sensitive spot behind her neck, sending her nerves into a frenzy she could only bear for a second before leaning away.

All of a sudden she remembered her awakening from the day before, how she had seen the young man's hardened flesh as he slept, oblivious to her stares. She remembered that towering, teenage bulge, and couldn't help but wonder what it would have felt like within her palms, between her fingers, between her...

There was no stopping the illicit rush of lust brought on by her forbidden curiosity. One hand rose of its own volition to her mouth, where she licked and suckled at the fingertips with a primordial instinct she barely noticed. At the same time, her other hand darted lower, rubbing against the bright red hairs of her pubic mound, the wide rubbing pressure of her palm across the blossoming slit making her tremble.

Finally when the fire between her legs blotted out all thought, she curved two fingers and spread herself wide with a throaty satisfied groan. One leg rose and balanced precariously on the tub's edge to better penetrate her sopping womanhood over and over.

At first she only stood there, mewling, shifting her hips and wrist to better fuel the orgasm she'd had on her mind for most of the night. The moans gradually gave away to repeated squeals, but it wasn't until she uttered one spontaneous "David" that she fell into the full powerful throes of orgasm. She smiled for a moment, basking in the afterglow and warmth from the steaming shower and water cascading down her body.

"Oh god," she realized, head raised suddenly. "What...why did I do that?"

***

Once she had exorcised that frustration out of her body, their third day of wintry isolation began with minimal issues. Another breakfast, another listen to the radio for news alerts (the storm was in a holding pattern and wasn't expected to increase for the day), another cursory glance at their cell phones to reveal zero bars, another day of lounging about with whatever they could find to kill the time.

Well...Jessica did have a sense of guilt and tried to avoid looking David in the eye for a while. He had already been awake and cooking when she had crept out of the bathroom, her head tightly wrapped in a poofy towel and dressed in a fresh set of clothes, and to go from envisioning the boy in one wrong way and interacting with him almost immediately after threw her for a loop. But she strove to get over herself when she sensed the slightest hint of the boy picking up on her awkwardness.

"That's all of them," he informed her, tossing the final old newspaper on the pile. "Every crossword and sudoku finished."

Jessica set aside her underwhelming book and smiled. "So what does that leave?"

The boy wiped his hand across the days of stubble he'd accumulated, thinking, before he pointed to the chess board on the table and suggested "Loser cooks dinner?"

"But you always lose," she reminded him, head tilted.

"Well the alternative is I start hauling more firewood to the porch or stare at the ceiling, so..."

And the battle for dinner duty began. Jessica approached the game casually, and debated whether or not purposefully throwing would be looked down upon. She had watched David, and while his gait was stiff first waking up, he appeared in fine condition after the muscles got a little stretching.

It was right as she decided he was fit for the kitchen that she took a proper look at the board and noticed he had not only castled his king to safety early, but strove to maintain control of the center squares and rig up a legitimate opening position. Further still, a furtive smirk lined his face when he saw her scanning the board in surprise.

"Are you trying to hustle me?" she asked.

"Whaaat? Of course not," he denied in the most saccharine tone. "We're just having a friendly game."

Several moves later, Jessica had succeeded in teasing his queen from the safety of the back row and trapped it between her knights, leaving the king borderline defenseless among the rooks.

"Oh," was all he had to say after recognizing his mistake. It was the teacher's turn to smile sweetly.

Some time later, as David toiled in the kitchen, Jessica bundled up and took her otherwise useless phone to capture some images of the beautiful barren landscape. It was the first time she'd seen the actual sun in recent memory, and as it crept below the hillside, the iced-over trees captured its rays like stunning diamond sparkles.

Alone in the glittering yard, she felt as though she'd forgotten to do something of importance. After a moment of wracking her brain she came upon the answer: stress. Devoid of any injury upon herself or the boy today, the threat of homewrecking lumber neutralized, she had legitimately enjoyed her time for once. Not even during a normal weekend, with her normal David staying over, did she recall ever feeling so comfortable and free.

A part of that sense of freedom came from not having to worry about grading schoolwork, or enduring monotonous staff meetings in the faculty office. And she had most definitely melted a good chunk of her stress away in the shower, though she tried to avoid thinking about that. But considering how she hadn't heard from her boyfriend in days and was in a perilous predicament if the weather didn't improve, she felt oddly...giddy. So much so she didn't mind saving David a trip through the snow for more firewood, and used the last of the daylight to top off the pile of logs on the porch.

As she stepped through the front door, she was barraged by a multitude of pleasing scents. The dining table held two servings of chicken parmesan, a tray of freshly baked garlic bread, a small bowl of pasta and the pumpkin pie she'd initially lost the appetite for but now couldn't wait to demolish. Candles had been lit, not the short fat emergency ones but the long crimson sticks in heavy glass holders. In fact the entire meal had been part of her ruined dinner plans, including (her eyes widened with concern) a newly opened bottle of red wine, with her glass already modestly filled.

David appeared in the hallway. He had apparently found her stash of razor blades, as he was cleanly shaven, and wore a fresh set of clothes. The combination of the extravagant meal he'd prepared along with the mental image of him using her girly-smelling shaving cream made her clap her hands to her mouth and hide the giggle/shocked look on her face.

"David, this is incredible!" she said honestly, in a higher voice than she would have liked. "What brought this on?"

"Oh I dunno," he shrugged, looking away. "Freezer's warming up so we needed to cook the meat, found a can of tomatoes and rigged up a new sauce..."

"And the wine?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh......we're almost out of soda?" he tried. Upon seeing her brow furrow, he added, "I dunno what came over me, I just thought it was a good idea for some reason, I'm sorry."

Jessica considered the bottle of wine for a moment, then took the two glasses and headed for the sink. As she poured the filled one down the drain, she noticed the ominous pile of dirty dishes had been reduced to mostly forks and spoons soaking in bubbly water. She hadn't intended on punishing him or anything like that, maybe just a mild admonishing at most, but now...

She sat the glasses in the sink, reached in the cupboard and brought out two clean, crystal glasses.

"Those were champagne flutes," she explained. Pointing out the narrower rim and thinner body on the new pair, she continued, "these are for cabernet, and you are allowed one glass. Understand?"

The boy sighed with visible relief and nodded enthusiastically as she poured them each a serving. He waited until she had sat to eat before doing likewise, setting a wash cloth on his lap. Aside from an understandable cluelessness on preparing alcoholic drinks, his table manners were uncanny for a person his age.

"Where'd you learn the table etiquette?" she asked. "Most adults my age don't know the basics."

"My mother," he answered. "She's, well, it's getting harder for her to get around, but she's always there to teach me to cook or clean or whatever."

Jessica tried a bite of the chicken, and found it delicious. The sauce he'd prepared was indistinguishable from the store-bought jar they'd used up days ago, and the cheese still had a bit of melty texture to it...unlike the rubbery flap she often produced in her attempts.

"She did a wonderful job," she told him. "This is a lovely meal, David."

"Thank you, Ms. McCormick," he murmured, blushing. He took a tentative sip at the wine. Jessica wasn't sure if it had been a good idea to let him have it, but her own parents had allowed her courtesy servings at formal occasions, and she hadn't required an intervention yet. Besides, she hated drinking alone.

They ate in a friendly silence for the most part. By the time Jessica devoured as much of the pumpkin pie as she could stomach (David had declined, struggling to even look at the dessert), she had decided two more refills wouldn't kill her and had developed a nice warmth in the pit of her stomach.

"Best meal I had in years," she admitted, rising from the table. "My god, I'm stuffed."

"It'll be our last good food for a while," David reminded her. "We're down to canned stuff from now on."

"Ohhh don't be a buzzkill," she pouted, then immediately smiled again. "Hey! We need to check the radio. It didn't snow today, maybe they got around to plowing the back roads."

After fumbling around with the settings more than usual, she found the station that had been giving the news bulletins. For once it was playing regularly scheduled music, and she lightly dropped the radio in place on the table as she leaned back into the sofa.