"Pretending" to Make Out

But now? Nope.

See, despite my skill with The Flirt I'd never really had a pet teacher before. It was a new experience for me, and as I invited myself into his classroom and perched my feet on a desk and my lunch on my lap, I began to wonder whether an A-minus could turn into an A-plus just by my being there. He was clearly into me, his blue eyes flying open whenever I walked in and staying on me the whole time. Sometimes I brought Beth along as a chaperone, but usually she and I didn't have the same lunch periods.

So Mr Norlin became my dining companion. He was very nervous, that much was obvious; very quickly I decided he must not be used to the companionship of sexy girls, and I began to wonder about his girlfriend; he had to have one. Though, I didn't wonder enough to ask him; I wanted him to think about me. So I started with carefully provocative little prods of the sort he'd come to expect from me, the kinds that would keep him titillated without raising his suspicion.

"Do you like my outfit today, Mr Norlin?"

"You don't mind if I put my feet up, do you?"

"I changed my shampoo this morning, Mr Norlin. Want to smell it?"

"Oh, the new cheer skirts came in yesterday. Shit, they chafe!"

"We're buddies now, aren't we Mr Norlin?"

"Am I bothering you, Mr Norlin?"

"Do you like having me around, or am I a pest? Just say so, and I'll leave."

You know, Flirting 101. He'd come back with his usual mix of surly, one-word answers and vaguely beguiling puns. I didn't understand a lot of those, for he was very smart and I was not. Eventually, after I'd spent over a week getting him used to me being there, I finally got things onto another track. "You know nobody gets your jokes, Mr N, right?" I sipped gently at a juicebox and squinted through my glasses. I'd run out of contacts over at Chip's dorm room. "We just laugh to make you feel better."

He scowled at me over his desk. I was wearing a skirt today, and he always sat with his lap carefully underneath his desk when I did that. I was giving him a hard-on at least two or three times a week now, without even trying. Poor guy. It wasn't even a sexy skirt. He stared vacantly at my bare legs, no doubt pondering the color of my underwear, and for a split second I thought about giving him a show. "Well," he sighed, "I think that's just you. I think most of my students think I'm funny."

"Oh, no," I assured him, "they don't. Trust me. Nobody really thinks you're funny." I smiled sweetly. "But we like you, so it's okay." I brushed crumbs off my tits, making them jiggle, realizing too late the effect that would have on him. From across the room, Beth shook her head in disgust. She didn't approve of me, and she plainly thought I was trying to fuck Mr Norlin, but I didn't care. She went straight back to that tablet of hers, the one with all the books loaded into it. Fucking nerd. I loved her more than I loved my own sister, but she needed a swift spiritual kick in the ass. And would it kill her to smile? She was acting like she was on her period, but I knew she wasn't. "You like us, too, huh?"

That was enough for Beth. "I'm off to the bathroom," Beth announced coldly, getting to her feet. She hesitated as she grabbed her backpack. "You two have fun," she muttered lamely, and then she was gone.

She shut the door behind her. Dude. What was her hangup?

"I like all my students," he was saying, nibbling at a roast beef sandwich.

"But some more than others," I added softly. The juicebox was flattening between my fingers.

"Well, sure. Some of you are absolute dumbasses." And then he stared at me until I realized I was supposed to be offended. I opened my eyes wide, feigning shock.

"No sir!" I giggled, and eventually he smiled and went back to his sandwich. "No," I went confidently on. "I can tell you like me. You don't have to pretend."

He glanced back over at me and swallowed. "What can I say, Heidi?" He shrugged in his seat. "You're not the worst kid I've ever had."

"Aww!" I winked. "Such a compliment. You're my favorite teacher, you know." I paused. Time to crank it up. "I even liked you before I met you."

He looked back at me, confused. "How's that?"

"Oh, come on," I scoffed. "Remember how we met? You know, without really meeting?" I waited, but he was totally lost. "The back stairwell, you goober." His forehead went all wrinkly for a second, and then slowly his face started to go all red. "Yeah..." I mused, "now you remember."

It had been the scandal of the year, and the best part was that nothing at all had even happened. Hell, I hadn't even heard about it until about a week after it all went down, even though I'd supposedly been the central figure in the scandal.

He'd been on hall duty. That wasn't unusual; all teachers had to do it. What was unusual is that he actually bothered to come back to the rear stairwell, back by the locker rooms, where adults usually feared to tread; it was the domain of bullies, potheads, and similarly marginal characters. Me, I'd been back there selling some of my mom's oxycodone; just a little bit, for some money to buy a few new sets of lingerie. My old ones had all crapped out, and my mom wouldn't notice the missing pills, so no harm, no foul.

My customer that day was Seth Gamble, the infamous stud-badass of Seaborne High, still just a sophomore at nineteen years of age; the administration had been trying for years to get him to drop out, but why would he? Our school provided an endless source of drugs and pussy in a nearly consequence-free environment; why would he leave?

He'd left me instructions to come and do the deal precisely at 11:25, and not before; I arrived, laboring up the stairs from the forgotten areas near the boiler rooms and the custodians' offices, only to be met at the second landing by Brenda Chang coming the other way. She was gorgeous: homecoming queen, salutatorian, state champion swimmer, she always seemed to float whenever she moved, her gorgeous Asian face pale and innocent like a doll's. Her eyes widened when she saw me; she acted suddenly like a skittish horse.

But I'm nice to everyone. "Hi, Bren!" I gave a cheery wave as I scanned her up and down. "I think you've got cum on your chin, honey."

"Jesus!" She swiped frantically at her face, and I giggled as I went on my way. Around the last turn, and there was Seth, dark and glowering, looking like he belonged on a Metallica album cover. I was not attracted to him at all, but a lot of girls were: he was the ultimate bad boy. He'd even done a few weeks in juvie for setting a car on fire, though nobody had ever figured out why. The owner had declined to press felony charges. From his hospital bed.

"What's cooking, Sethie?" He and I had done business together before, but I'd have flirted anyway. It's what I did. "Happy to see me?"

He seemed to be, standing there with his eyes on my tits and his dick still lumping his pants over a small, telltale series of spatters on the middle step. I wasn't very experienced back then, but I knew a puddle of semen when I saw one. Jesus. What a freak. Even a slut like my sister hadn't gotten it on during school hours, as far as I knew. Brenda Chang... I filed away that tidbit for later, if I needed it. Nobody would ever imagine she'd give head to bad boys in the back stairwell. "You're always a little ray of sunshine, Heidi. Got my shit?"

"Why, sugar-pop! You say the nicest things." I burrowed around inside my bra until I found the little ziplock bag crowded with white nuggets of happiness. My eyes narrowed. "Dollar a milligram, Seth, just like last time. Mama needs a new pair of shoes." The bag crinkled as it dangled from my fingers, still warm from my skin. "How much you want?"

"How much you got?" The wad of twenties filled his considerable palm. "I'll take all of it this time, Heid."

I eyed the money, suddenly nervous. It was more than I'd seen in one place in my whole life. Cold queasiness spread up from my gut. This was trouble. "Where'd you get all that, Seth?"

He shrugged, his dangerous eyes glittering. "I found it on the beach. Whatever. Want it, or not?"

"Well, since you put it that way..." And just like that, the deal was done. It took me awhile to hollow out enough tit-space to fit the wad of cash, but girls in American high schools learn very quickly that your bra is the best place to hide anything. I tugged and pulled, twitched and jiggled, and that little pervert Seth stared openly the entire time. I gave myself an experimental bounce. "Can you tell it's there?" I asked him dryly. He was already staring; why not use him?

"Looks great, Heid." He licked his lips. The pills were gone; I hadn't seen him hide them. "A ray of sunshine, like I said. Maybe I should give 'em a little squeeze, just to make sure..." He reached toward me, but he wasn't being serious. No, he was just being nice. I swatted his hand away.

"Now now, Sethie." I winked. "None of that. I'm off, darling." I blew him a kiss. "Ciao!" The spring in my step would have been there anyway; I'd been sweating bullets, hauling twenty oxys around all day. The money felt better. "Until next time, hon."

"Sure thing." He was watching my ass as I trudged up the stairs, of course, and he was probably still watching as I reached the top and ran right into the brand-new Spanish teacher, Mr Norlin.

"Oh shit!" I blurted. "I'm sorry!" He sprang back as if I'd been electrically charged, but he was already looking past me; his eyes were on bigger game.

"Hey!" he called, loud and brave as only a rookie teacher can be when he's confronted by the school badass. "Gamble, right?"

"Naw, dude. I wasn't gambling," Seth chortled, and I was practically sprinting down the hall as Norlin, red-faced, ignored me and went charging down the stairwell.

And that was that. Until the week after, when the word spread that the new Spanish teacher had caught Seth Gamble in mid-blowjob on the back stairs, and then people started reporting I'd been seen hurrying away, and a few gossipy bitches with more tits than sense thought they'd put two and two together, and next thing you knew people were asking me how I'd avoided getting in trouble? Norlin had gotten Seth a five-day suspension, after all. Well aware that people already had their own conclusions drawn anyway, I'd just smiled mysteriously.

Brenda Chang had been out sick for two days, which was most unusual.

So, yeah. After that, Mr Norlin and I were pretty much forever linked up in peoples' minds. He became "that teacher that caught that Gamble kid getting a blowjob in the back starway," and I became "that chick that was blowing that Gamble kid in the back stairway." Thank God it wasn't true; my friend Gia had fucked him, and gave very negative reports about his personal hygiene. But he was known for his extreme length, so it actually gave me cred that people thought I'd sucked him.

Now, Mr Norlin chewed his roast beef and regarded me with narrowed eyes. I could tell he wanted to say it, and a year had passed, so I sat back and shrugged. "Go ahead, Senor Norlin," I challenged him, grinning wickedly. "I know you're dying to ask."

He looked at me a few seconds, then shook his head. "It's none of my business, Heidi. Your love life is your problem, not mine."

"Well now! I don't remember you taking quite such a casual view of Seth Gamble's love life," I purred, "though, in fairness, I don't think love had much to do with it." I set my depleted juicebox down. "You wouldn't believe me if I did tell you what happened, anyway," I told him flatly.

Now he was interested, his sandy eyebrows rising. "See, now I'm curious."

"Nope." I shook my head, exaggerating the motion like a kindergartner. "I'll never tell," I sang. "Besides, Seth finally dropped out. It's over, Mr N."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, "but you're still here." Shit, teachers are such fucking gossips! They should just bug the girls' bathroom and quit nosing around for information. "Spill, Heidi. If it wasn't you, I'm curious."

"I'll bet you are." I carefully put the lid back onto my salad container, my lips pursed. He was smiling slightly. I was certain he was rock-hard under his desk. I made a show of thinking about it. "Hmm, I don't know..." I flickered a glance to the side, where Beth had left her shit at her desk. "Beth will be back soon," I whispered. "She'd be totally shocked to hear you asking me about the sex lives of your students, Senor."

He just stared at me. Fuck me, but he had a hand underneath that desk! No way! I was shaken; the man apparently couldn't control himself around me anymore. I sighed and waited him out, trying to look coy and mysterious but, honestly, just wondering whether I felt like selling out last year's salutatorian. He sighed. "I'm not sure she approves of how you talk to your teachers."

There it was. He was my co-conspirator now, plain and simple. He was gossiping with me about my best friend, treating me like an equal. I finally and completely had a pet teacher. Smugly, I leaned forward with my tits squashing between my arms and tested how far he'd go. "She can go fuck herself," I said with slow, calm relish.

He leaned in, too. "Watch your mouth, Heidi." He smiled then, and I knew I had him.

"You watch my mouth," I snapped back, but I was smirking. There was a sharp, sizzling silence after that, our gazes connected like they were plugged into each other, and then I made a slow, deliberate pucker, and I blew him a kiss.

It was extraordinary; he reacted as though I really had kissed him, rocking back in his chair and shaking his head, totally bemused. "Out, Heidi. That's enough."

"Aww," I whined, "but Beth's not even back yet!"

"Out." He picked his sandwich back up. He wasn't mad. "I've got to pee before the next class, anyway."

"You can leave me alone in here, Mr Norlin," I wheedled. "I won't steal any of your shit." He didn't correct me this time.

"Nope. Shoo." He was making useless little flappy motions with his hands. "And take Beth's stuff, too. I'll be locking the door, and she'll need it next period."

"Hmm." I got to my feet and brushed some crumbs off the front of my top, conscious that he'd be looking at my tits. "A real gentleman would offer to carry the extra crap. How's a cute little thing like me supposed to haul her stuff all across the building?"

"No clue, Heidi. Have fun, though."

"You're pathetic, Mr N." I stuck my tongue out at him, flicking it so that my stud would catch the light. I'd done that to him before; it was sort of a trademark. "Fine!" I huffed, stooping to grab the backpacks. Again, he'd be staring at my ass; it's a pretty nice ass, maybe just a bit wider than I'd like, but men like grabbing it while they fuck me. So it does its job. "Cast me out into the night, then, Senor. I'll try not to pine for you."

"You do that." His legs and crotch were still under the desk. "See you tomorrow, Heidi."

"Only if you're lucky," I shot back automatically, and as I reached the door I paused and snapped my head around, my heavy hair bouncing. "Oh, it was Brenda Chang." Behind me, he frowned. He had no fucking clue what I was talking about. I passed halfway into the hall, the backpacks already pulling at my bra straps. "With Seth Gamble." I raised my eyebrows, and then left him with a smile as soon as realization started to dawn.

Such fun.

* * *

So it continued, out from the draggly dregs of winter and toward April, the two of us chatting with increasing ease over lunch or after school. After awhile The Flirt even appeared in class; bored, I watched as my classmates exchanged skeptical glances or flipped me off under their desks. I wondered whether Mr Norlin could possibly be so dense as to not notice their discomfort.

But I didn't care. I was having too much fun. "Senor!" I piped up one day, my feet insolently on my desk once more. "How do you say 'vagina' in Spanish?" It was on my mind, to be honest; I was sore. Dave had been enthusiastic last night.

He blinked at me, then flushed slowly, and for the life of me I couldn't tell whether he was embarrassed because I'd asked the question, or embarrassed because he didn't know the answer. The room went silent, the same way that saloons do in old movies when the doors open. "Puta," came a soft, disgusted hiss from Ana in the front row.

Mr Norlin licked his lips and said what he always said at times like that. "Depends on the country, like Venezuelans will use a different word than Mexicans."

"Oh. Okay!" I replied brightly, and then he and I shared a smile and I went back to my usual role of texting my friends while avoiding Juana's venomous glares.

And then... a change. And, ironically, the back stairway once again played a role.

* * *

It had started innocuously enough, with a kid named Jason needing a little help with his poetry paper for AP Lit. Well, not really a little help; more like, he needed someone to write the paper for him. He asked a friend of his, who asked his cousin, who happened to be my good friend Beth Sheely. "I told him you're hot shit when it comes to poetry. And writing."

"Damn right." I was, too. I'd won some kind of prize the year before. It's a shame you can't really get paid much for being an outstanding English student, because I was hopeless at almost every other subject. "So? What's it about?" Her cousin had given her a copy of the assignment, which I only had to glance at for a couple seconds. "Oh, shit. It's about caesuras in sestets. Easy. I can do that in like three hours."

She tossed her thin hair, which was blue this month. "He needs an A," she warned.

"He'll get one," I replied absently. My mind was already coming up with the thesis. "Did you tell him my rate?" I charged $50 an hour for an A paper in an AP class, with five dollars less per letter grade.

"Well..." She nibbled at her lower lip. "See, he needs you because his usual girl is raising her prices. You know her... Audrey DiStepolo?"

"Audrey DiStepolo? Fuck. She's writing papers now?" I'd written two for her as a sophomore. "So, what. He can't afford her?"

She shrugged and grabbed a lighter for her bowl. "He was working at Pork Belly's as a busboy, and they fired him. I guess he was taking pictures of womens' legs. Like, up their dresses and shit."

I brightened. "That's a thing. I think it's called upskirting." She offered me the pipe. "What's he do with the pics?"

"Well, nothing now," Beth giggled, "but I guess he used to give them to Audrey, and then her brother used to put them on the web or some shit."

I considered. "That's fucked up," I decreed at last, "but if he doesn't have any money, I'm not doing it."

Beth's eyes narrowed through the smoke. "My cousin Geoff says Jason can get his hands on some acid. You know, for sale like."

"Acid?" I made a face. "What is this, San Francisco in 1972? Fuck that. He can sell the acid, and then pay me, but tell him I'll need at least a hundred."

Beth shuddered. "He'll never be able to do that. He might be able to take it out in trade..."

"Am I a farmer now? No. Cash."

"I'll tell you what, though..." She trailed off, and then looked absently out the window before nodding. "Yeah. I hear things about him. Like, about his mouth."

And that's how I found myself in the back stairwell again, with my knee hooked over Jason Bennett's shoulder while he sucked at my inner lips like a calf on the teat, his spread hands cradling my bare sweaty ass underneath my hippie skirt. My underwear lay in a crimson pile next to his knee. He was good, at least; he came as advertised, but for an A paper I wasn't about to treat him gently. I just about had him bent backward, I was grinding on his face so hard. I was already getting that weird buzzing sound I get in my ears when I get really turned on.