Nightingale

"Nothing. Look, I have to get to school," he said stiffly.

"After school?" she purred.

He saw his bus coming, so he picked up his pace to get to the stop. Roxanne kept pace, and her eyes never left his face. "I have to study after school. The library. I won't be home until after ten."

"I can meet you there."

Raph stopped next to the bus stop and looked at her in confusion. "The library?"

"No, at your place. Your mom won't be home 'til later, right?" Roxanne insisted.

"Oh—uh... right," he mumbled as the bus door opened.

Roxanne stepped back. "See you then, lover boy!" she called out loudly.

Scowling in annoyance, Raph climbed into the bus and dropped his ticket into the farebox. As he walked deeper into the bus to take a seat at the back, he watched Roxanne outside on the sidewalk, as did a few other people on the bus. She grinned and flashed her tits at him as the bus pulled away. Heads turned first to look at her, then to look at him. He found a seat with his back to the windows and closed his eyes so he didn't have to look at anyone.

As he got closer to the school, he opened them again. It didn't pay to be too inattentive this close to the school. Some of these morons weren't above taking a cheap shot. Case in point, the two idiots, Gerry and Wally, were boarding the bus. Usually, they weren't much trouble without their leader, but he kept them in his peripheral vision, just in case.

They rode on for a while, with no attention focused in his direction, which was good.

Victor's goons were busy talking to some friends sitting closer to the front. Then the big one looked back at him wearing his angry face. He marched to the back, looking like trouble. Damn.

"GRAVES!"

He looked up at Wally with a tired expression. "What?"

"Did you tell Roxanne to flash her tits at you?" Wally growled.

"What? No! She flashed the whole bus. Her idea of fun, maybe," Raph answered calmly, keeping his eyes on Wally's. Interesting! Wally had a crush on Roxy. He'd have to mention it to her. Maybe he could get her to choose him as her new boyfriend.

He saw the big goon was building up a head of steam. Shit. He had to avoid a fight as he'd get the blame for it regardless of who threw the first punch.

"Wally! Get your ass over here! Leave that trash alone," Gerry called out.

The big guy scowled back at his friend, then turned his glare on Raph once more and jabbed a thick finger at him. "You stay the fuck away from Roxanne!" Raph said nothing but just continued to hold Wally's eyes calmly. Raph could see the doubt and anger on the other man's face until he stormed back to Gerry's side.

The bus was quiet for the rest of the trip, but people were whispering and glancing in his direction.

Once they got to school, Raph made his way to his locker and exchanged his books for his first class. He was closing the metal door when someone slammed his head into it. He spun, snapping his elbow in an arc, and caught Wally on the cheek, almost knocking him off his feet. After the thug shook off the blow, he began to roar, but Victor and Gerry were there to hold him back as one of the teachers stepped out in the hall.

Raph's body tensed as he saw it was Mr. McConnell, the gym teacher... and football coach.

"What the hell is going on out here? Graves! Are you causing trouble again! Are you trying to get an expulsion just before midterms?" the teacher bellowed. Raph could see the sadistic glee in the man's eyes, and he felt his anger building.

"Oh, Harold, put a sock in it!"

The group turned in surprise to see an older woman approaching, and Raph felt his anger ebb away as the tension drained from his body. Mrs. Aikens was glaring at the gym teacher, and everyone knew she took no shit. A slim, petite woman in her late sixties, Helen Aikens was a force to contend with at school as she had the ear of influential people in the community. She taught art but announced she was retiring this year. While Raph did his best to avoid connecting with anyone in the school, he liked the old woman, and to his surprise, he truly enjoyed her art class. He was grateful for her intervention now.

"You know full well it wasn't Mr. Graves who instigated this commotion. If you used your eyes first instead of your mouth, you would've seen that his was the first blood spilled. Look at the door of the locker!" she asserted as she pointed to the bent metal. There was a streak of blood on it where the vent slots caught the edge of Raph's eyebrow.

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Raph for him to hold against the injury. She glanced at the others with a sniff of disdain and added a scowl for Mr. McConnell. She hooked her arm through Raph's elbow. "Walk with me, Mr. Graves. I'll get you checked out at the nurse's office."

Raph struggled to keep the smile from his lips as he walked away with the old woman.

Once they were far enough away, Helen glanced up at him. "What is it with those mouth breathers that they must attack everything they don't understand?" she sighed.

Raph couldn't hold back the snort this time. He gave her a little smile, and she let herself smile in return. Then her eyes lit up.

"I'm very keen to see how you do next week in my class! While I don't have a midterm exam, we're going to work with clay, and I've managed to hire a live model who will pose for the students," she said with breathless excitement.

Raph blinked in confusion at the woman. "I've never worked with clay. I just draw."

She smiled at him. "And you draw very well. That's why I want to see how you'll do in three-dimensional space. It's also very relaxing." Seeing his wary expression, she patted his arm. "Trust me; you'll like it."

They reached the nurse's office, and she knocked. The door opened, and there was a tall, skinny red-haired woman with overly generous breast implants straining against her crisp white uniform. She was wearing old-school black-rimmed glasses with strong prescription lenses, which just made her blue eyes look slightly oversized. Her bold red lipstick-painted mouth widened in a cheerful smile, and Raph saw she was wearing braces to correct her overbite. Raph smiled in return, but he was getting an odd vibe from the nurse. It felt like she was... acting or role-playing. He wasn't convinced getting actual medical care from this woman was advisable, but glancing at Mrs. Aikens, she appeared unconcerned with the woman's appearance. She seemed to be resigned to it, at least. He took some comfort from that.

"Mrs. Galiban, young Mr. Graves needs medical attention—" The bell rang. "And a note for his first class. I'll see you later, Raphael."

"Thanks for... back there," he said to the woman, and she touched his arm again as she smiled at him. Then she was off, and he looked to the nurse who ushered him inside. He noted her shiny red leather three-inch pumps, and his unease increased.

"Please sit on the stool," she said, and Raph was surprised by her voice. For all her height, her voice was quiet and higher in pitch than he expected. She almost sounded like she was putting on a little girl's voice, which seemed strange coming from a woman who had to be in her late thirties. He put his books down on the counter and sat on the stool. She took the tissue from his hand and looked closely at the cut. "Oh, that's not too bad. I can put a little suture tape over that, and you'll be good as new," she said, and he glanced up at her. She was smiling at him, so he tried to smile in return.

She bit her lip distractedly as she moved off to the counter. She returned with swabs and a clear liquid in a bottle. "I'm going to clean the wound. This may sting a little." She stood before him and dipped the swab into the container. Then she dabbed at the skin around the injury, and Raph felt the liquid running into the cut. It stung badly, but he did his best to push the pain down.

He glanced up again and found himself staring into her boobs. She was standing way too close. Any closer, and her tits would be against his face. Then he noticed her nipples had begun to show against the tight fabric, but when he lifted his eyes to her face, she was intent on her task and humming faintly. Her hands moved with precise, economical motions easing some of his misgivings. She knew the job.

Finally, she finished cleaning the cut and stepped back to put those items away. She returned with some small bandages and once more moved in close to apply the tape.

"It's going to need two, so please hold very still," she said with a strange breathiness to her little girl's voice.

Her fingers smoothed the skin around the cut and gently applied the bandage over the wound without touching it. The tape would hold the edges closed.

Raph was unaware of this as his face was now pressed firmly against her tits, one of her nipples resting against his lips, separated only by the thin fabric of her top. He was surprised to discover she wasn't wearing a bra under her uniform. He began to pull back to free his face from the plush prison.

"No, don't move," she asserted as her nipple grew stiffer still.

He tried to tell her she was making him uncomfortable, but when he opened his mouth, she pressed just a little more firmly, and the bump of her nipple slipped between his lips. He was surprised to detect a metal stud piercing in her nipple.

She applied a second piece of tape as she held his head in place.

He tried but couldn't close his mouth without his teeth catching on the metal piercing, which caused her to gasp quietly. He tried to look up, but she pulled his head back down and gave him a stern look. He was sure he'd seen a flush on her cheeks as her nipple rubbed across his lips once more.

Finally, she pulled back and looked critically at her work. After a slight nod, she moved to the counter to put away the items she had taken out.

"Raphael Graves, was it?" she said over her shoulder.

"Yes," he mumbled, confused by her behavior.

"Here's your note. The tape should stay on for a day or two, and you can shower with it. The cut should heal without scarring. Off you go."

"Thanks," he said as he stood. Her eyes dipped down to see the bulge that had formed on his jeans. He caught the smallest of smiles on her lips, then it was gone.

"Have a good day," she said as he left the room, clutching the note with his books once more in his arms.

Mind spinning as he couldn't get a read on the woman, he made his way to class and knocked before entering. He gave the teacher the note, then took his seat. He heard a snort behind him and knew it was either Victor or one of his goons, but he just focused on the teacher.

It wasn't an excellent start to the day. He hoped it would settle down into some form of normality soon.

-=-

Mr. Dwight sighed as he looked at his class. For the most part, teaching them advanced math principles hadn't been a pleasure. "Please take out your calculus assignments and pass them forward. This was to prepare you for next week's midterm. If you were struggling with this assignment, you need to get assistance immediately as the midterm isn't going to be easier." He watched the students squirm under his stare. They'd heard his emphasis.

His eyes jumped from face to face, making a quick assessment of his pupils. He found no surprises.

Mr. Peterson was angry, but there wasn't much chance he was going to pass. The teacher had tried to encourage him to transfer to a fundamental level math course at the beginning of the year, but he'd refused, wanting to remain with his friends, Mr. Manning and Mr. Jackson, who'd likely pass by the skin of their teeth.

He saw the panic on the lovely features of Ms. Harris. She was more of a concern. He'd hoped she could do better. He'd speak to her if he saw the issues he was expecting to see in her assignment.

Then there was Mr. Graves. Honestly, he'd been surprised when he found the boy in his class at the beginning of the year as he'd believed the rumors of his hotheaded antics and his lack of potential. There were some strong opinions against him in this school. None more vocal than Mr. McConnell's, but he was sure this was the coach's bitterness at Raphael's refusal to join any of his teams.

However, the young man had shown consistently excellent grades so far, and that had done much to raise the teacher's estimation of him. Today, he didn't appear worried at all, and the teacher agreed. He didn't need to direct any extra attention to this student.

Keeping the stacks of papers separate, he placed them on his desk.

"Work on the questions on page forty-three while I review these," he said and sat behind his desk.

He powered his way through the assignments, his red pencil furiously scribbling as he annotated the errors he found. He managed to complete the review with ten minutes to spare. He wasn't grading the assignment, which the students would be pleased to hear, but he had several people he needed to speak with as they showed signs of failing the midterm. He picked up the first stack and delivered them back to the students in the first row. He saw their expressions range from relief to outright dismay as he walked down the aisle. He collected the next pile and handed these out too.

"Nicely done, Mr. Graves," he murmured as he dropped the paper on his desk. He wasn't expecting a response from the young man for the perfect grade and didn't receive one, so he moved on.

When he put Ms. Harris' paper on her desk, he pointed to the note he'd left asking her to speak to him after school. Then he moved on.

He had more students to disappoint, including Mr. Peterson.

-=-

Raph settled into the chair in the last study pod at the back of the public library. It was four, and the library closed at ten, so he had six hours of quiet and privacy he could dedicate to studying. He had no work shift today, but he would tomorrow and on the weekend, so he wanted to make the most of the time.

The rest of the classes he'd had today had just been reviews of the material for next week. Uneventful. Even that ass-hat Wally left him alone as he probably had bigger things to worry about, like failing.

Raph wasn't overly concerned about how he'd do in the upcoming midterms, but refreshing his mind on the topics was always a smart thing to do. The library was the best place for this.

Besides, if he went home, Roxy would be there, and she'd want to have sex. Not that he didn't enjoy sex, and she was... enthusiastic. The problem was she was also damaged, and he always felt terrible afterward. He'd always been honest with her—brutally honest bordering on just brutal. That's how he had to be with her. He told her he was leaving town once he graduated, and he wouldn't be able to afford to take anyone else with him. He wasn't interested in having a girlfriend, and there was no emotional bond between them.

She claimed she was only looking to have some fun. Deep down, Raph wondered if this was just another self-delusion. It worried him, and he had no idea how to deal with her, so he avoided her when he could.

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from it and to get himself back on track.

With the afternoon light coming in the stained-glass windows on the west side of the building, the environment was as warm and inviting as it could be. The library study booths were Raph's sanctuary and had been for as long as he could remember. The building was mostly empty, so the calming silence was welcome as well. Raph laid out his study materials and immersed himself in work.

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself distracted by a repeating noise. Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned his head and found himself looking into nervous blue eyes, above pretty lips holding a shy smile, in a beautiful face framed by long, blonde locks that were spectacularly catching the multihued light from the windows.

His mind blanked for a moment as his eyes widened in wonder. He'd never seen anyone so lovely before. Then recognition hit, and he was shocked that it had taken so long for him to connect the face to the name. Samantha Harris! Seeing her here was so out of context, it made no sense to his brain. His eyes suddenly darted past the woman to see if Victor and his goons were nearby. The odds of finding them in the library were slim to none, so he relaxed a little.

"Raph? Hi, I'm Sam Harris. I sit behind you in calculus," she said timidly.

He was still reeling from how lovely she looked in the afternoon light, so he was only able to nod to her. When her smile relaxed, his widened eyes were once more trapped by her beauty, so he looked away. "Yes?" he said tersely.

"May I sit?" she said, pointing to the second chair in his study pod.

He glanced at the chair and realized if she did, she'd be sitting very close to him. Too close. If her boyfriend were to see them... that would be... bad for him. He scowled.

"Aren't you Victor Manning's girlfriend?" he managed.

She blinked at him. "I'm just asking to sit—"

"Yes, but your psychotic boyfriend doesn't need any more excuses to hate me. I don't need him getting in my face any more than he already does. So, sorry, but no." He turned away.

He tried to get his mind back into his work, but he could feel her standing behind him. He tried to ignore her but finally sighed and turned to ask her to leave.

She was crying. Fuck. Silent tears were running down her cheeks from large blue eyes, and those... pretty lips were trembling. An almost physical pain went through him to see her so distraught. He had to restrain himself from standing, and... and... he didn't know what he'd do next.

Then he got pissed that she was affecting him like this.

"Why are you crying?" he growled quietly.

"I-I need—I need your help," she stuttered out.

"Don't you understand how much shit you'll cause me if someone sees us here together? You've so many friends, can't you ask one of them? Why me?" he asked in exasperation.

"I'm going to fail the midterm in calculus because I don't understand it. Mr. Dwight said I'm showing a marked decrease in comprehension, and if I don't get tutoring by someone who knows the subject really well, I won't have any chance of getting the grade I need on this course!" she said in a rush.

He looked at her. "What grade do you need to get on this exam?"

"Ninety or better," she mumbled.

His eyebrows rose. "I thought you said you were getting failing grades."

"I am!" she exclaimed.

He silenced her with a scowl, and she nodded in apology as she took some deep breaths to calm herself. That was doing distracting things to her chest, so he looked away again.

"So you need to go from failing to ninety or better in a week? The midterm is next Thursday," he said incredulously.

"Yes, I know. That's why Mr. Dwight said I needed an expert. None of my friends are smart enough to do it. Please! I need your help!" she pleaded desperately.

He looked at her in frustration. She was too pretty. He was having trouble thinking straight, and he was in danger of making a stupid mistake.

"Victor or one of his spies might see us here—"

"They never come to the library, and none of our friends do either. Today's the first time I've been here," she asserted.

He faced her once more and paused. "Then... how did you know I'd be here?"

She looked embarrassed. "I-I followed you."

His eyebrows went up in surprise.

"After school, Mr. Dwight told me to find expert tutoring, or I'd fail. So I left the school trying to think of who I could turn to for help. Then I saw you crossing to the bus stop. I rushed to catch up and rode the bus with you. I followed you off the bus and into the building, and I've been trying to work up the nerve to speak to you," she explained and bit her lip as she waited for him to respond.