The Student Ch. 03

"Hmm. So now you know about a sex for grades scandal brewing, you had an affair with a former student whom you just happened to adjust the grade for, and she wisely decided to call if off before school started so there weren't any questions about propriety. So what's the big deal? If she's a former student and you begin dating -- so what?

"And what if she's not a former student?" Mary rose up onto one elbow in response.

"Oh, you bad boy! She's in your class again?" I nodded.

"Well, that's easy. You just keep going out on Saturdays with me. Let Mary take care of your needs until the little tart graduates and then you can chase her down all you want," she said with a smile letting me know she was teasing again. "I know, that's not what you want. Affairs of the heart are so complicated, aren't they?"

"You're not upset?"

"Oh no. A little inconvenienced is all. Now I've got to find someone that has as little baggage as you did. After this summer, maybe I'll try a woman this time. I hear Ms. Seymour over in the art department broke it off with her lover..." We continued to lie there, her snuggling to my arm, me not knowing whether to get up and go -- or just stay a bit longer.

"What do you say, we get up, have breakfast -- and we have a real nooner before you go?" I looked over at her, a smile on her face.

"You really are insatiable, aren't you?"

"Oh no, you've sated me quite often for the last two years."

Throwing the covers off, I smiled at her and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "Thank you, Mary. It has been fun, but I think it's time for me to go."

"My bed's always open for you. Come see me if it doesn't work out."

~

It was a Saturday morning, four weeks to the day later, when the phone rang. At least the clock said "SAT" on it, but the time said it was 2:37 AM, which to me meant it was still Friday night. Regardless, a phone call any time before the sun comes up is not a good sign.

"Hello?"

"Rick?" My heart skipped a beat at her voice, any sleepiness immediately driven from my brain. "It's Linda, I didn't know who else to call."

It didn't take long to know that her car had died, partway between work and home. I didn't hesitate, told her to stay in the car with the doors locked, and had my pants and shirt on and out the door in five minutes. It was 40 minutes later before I got to her, pulled over alongside the road, a Highway Patrol Cruiser parked behind with red lights flashing to warn cars. At 3:30 on a Saturday morning, there weren't many.

I asked her what happened -- her description of "just started banging and quit" not sounding like good news. I took the keys and tried to start it, but the engine didn't turn over. The starter motor engaged -- but that was it. It didn't even take a calculation to know that her car had traveled its last mile; it was going to take a lot more to repair it than it was worth. The Highway Patrol called for a tow truck, I took Linda and headed for home.

"It's good to see you, Linda," I said, after we'd driven in silence for several minutes, "I'm glad you called me." I looked over at her; she just nodded, not saying anything.

"I think your car's trash. It acts like the engine's seized and, if it is, I'll guarantee it'll cost more to replace than it's worth." Again she nodded. I felt her occasionally glancing at me; I glanced back, each time her face turned away. "We're better off shopping for a new car than even worrying about that one. It won't take long and you'll have something better than what you did."

"Thank you." It was practically the first thing she'd said since she'd called. I waited, but she said nothing else.

"You'll need to stay with me for a couple of days until we can get you a new car." I glanced at her, her eyes meeting mine. "You and Lori can stay in the guest bedroom, and although you can use my car to go to work, I'll still need it during the day. Either you stay with me or we're going to have to shuttle back and forth all the time which just isn't going to work." Glancing again at Linda, she nodded.

We put Lori into the bed; I got Linda a t-shirt to sleep in and pulled a new toothbrush out of the drawer. I got her a clean towel out of the towel cabinet; she headed into the guest bathroom to take a shower. I glanced at the clock as I climbed into bed -- 4:35 -- almost exactly two hours later from when the phone had rung.

I had almost dozed off again when I heard her footsteps in the hall. Stopping at the door, I didn't move, just watching to see what she would do. She stepped forward toward my bed, unsure if I was awake or not. When she was standing beside the bed, I pulled the sheet back, giving her the opening if that's what she wanted. Knowing now that I was awake, she hesitated for just another instant, then pulled the t-shirt off and climbed in bed.

Our lovemaking was just as magical as it always had been. Her body responded to mine and mine to hers, again and again. Her back arched in orgasm, her pussy writhed to my tongue and cock, my cock exploded filling several condoms, and yet we did it again. The sun came up -- but still we didn't stop. Linda was on her back, my lips on her breasts, and my fingers between her thighs when I heard tiny footsteps charging down the hallway. I'd barely rolled away from Linda when Lori pounced on the bed, not having a clue that she'd interrupted something. "Rick! You have to get up and make me pancakes!" she demanded, pulling at the sheets, not at all upset about finding she wasn't in her own bed or house. I grabbed the sheets to hold them in place over me and Linda casually pulled them a bit higher covering her bare breasts. Whether Lori realized we were both naked or not, it made no difference to her.

"Ok, we'll get up and make you pancakes," Linda answered. "You go get dressed, your clothes are in your overnight bag and we'll be there in just a minute."

"Ok," Lori answered, perfectly happy with the answer, spinning to fly out of the room - a tiny bundle of kid energy. She ran back down the hall chanting "Pancakes! Pancakes!"

I leaned over to Linda one more time, the sheet now folded between our otherwise naked bodies. I reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. "You stay, get some sleep. I'll take care of Lori." I went into the shower for a quick rinse, when I came back out, Linda was already asleep. She slept all day.

~

I heard the door open quietly at 3 am, right on time, suddenly realizing that after she'd left I'd never asked for my spare key back. I listened to her climb into the master shower this time, arriving at my bedside a few moments later. Unlike the lust driven frenzy of lovemaking the night before, tonight was slow and sensual.

"I've missed you," I said, speaking so softly it was practically a whisper. Her hand squeezed my arm, confirming that she'd heard me.

"Me too," she whispered back, a few moments later.

"You been doing ok?" A resigned sigh was her immediate answer.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I just couldn't handle another complication in my life."

"A complication," I repeated after thinking about her words. "Is that what I am, a complication?"

"Yes. You're a complication." I didn't say anything, what was there to say? Moments later she continued. "I had a plan and nearly lost it. I had a boyfriend that I thought I was in love with, and I could live with that, but he left me with a daughter that I hadn't planned on and that's a complication. I've got a full-time job that pays well but I can't really tell anyone about it, I can't keep it forever, and that's a complication. My job requires me to be awake while my daughter is asleep, and that's a complication. I've got another full-time job going to school and studying, and that's a complication. I've got an apartment to keep clean and in order, and that's a complication. I've got a car that died, and that's a complication. I've just got two more semesters of school, and then I can graduate, quit my job, pay attention to my daughter and my future. I'm sorry Rick; there just isn't time in my life for another complication. Having to spend time with you, wanting to spend time with you, falling in love with you rather than studying or taking care of my daughter, or apartment, or future -- I couldn't take another complication. I've got things to do with my life, and I can't add anything else until I'm ready. I've come too far to throw it all away now." There was no heat in her words, just a matter of fact statement.

I didn't say anything, just lying there sleepily thinking about what she'd said, especially those magic words "falling in love with you." I understood completely, it wasn't that she was rejecting me; it's just that at the moment she had different priorities in her life. At least I could take solace in knowing that someday there was at least a possibility that there might be a place in her life for me.

A call with the mechanic confirmed my suspicions and her old car was soon on its way to the junk yard. Her first day off was the following day, and a four-year-old Subaru with 36,000 miles and a fantastic price tag solved the car problem that afternoon. She opted for spending some of her savings rather than making payments which made perfect sense to me. With the car problem taken care of, I realized there was no other reason keeping her at my place. "I guess you'll be moving back to your apartment now?" I asked, standing beside the two cars after having changed Lori's car seat over to the Subaru. Her reluctant nod confirmed my thoughts.

"Well, is your babysitter available for a few hours this evening?"

She nodded. "Probably. What have you got in mind?"

"When was the last time you went to a nice restaurant and had a nice dinner with a really nice guy, maybe one that you occasionally have fantasies about?"

~

"Well, this is somewhat awkward," I said several hours later, glancing once more out the window of the roof-top restaurant at the city spread out below us as I moved my chair just a bit closer to Linda.

"Why is that?" she answered, her hand sliding forward, resting on the back of mine.

"A nice Pinot Grigio gone," I said, lifting my glass and taking that last little sip of wine, "that hopefully relaxed your inhibitions; a great meal in a romantic setting, a beautiful woman..." I set my glass back down before I finished. "This is the point where on a first date like this I'd normally say -- "would you like a nightcap?"

"And?" she questioned after a few seconds, "Are you asking?"

"No."

She sat upright, a bit startled. "No? Why not?"

I leaned forward a bit, reaching for her hand. "Because I don't want to know the answer." I looked down at her hand, her long sensuous fingers enveloped in my hand. I brought my other hand over, stroking the back of hers. "There are only three answers possible. First, you would say something like 'No, it's getting late, I've got to go.' This would mean that it's over, and I'm probably never going to see you again." I gave her a second to digest what I'd said before continuing. "Second, you could say something like, 'Oh that sounds wonderful, but not tonight. Can I get a rain check for next time?' This would mean that I haven't struck out, I'm still in the game, but I'm not getting anywhere tonight. And third, you could say, "That sounds wonderful, your place or mine?"

"And you don't want to know the answer?" I nodded in affirmation. "Why not?"

"Because I know it will rip my heart out. Linda, these last two days -- they helped me realize how much you mean to me, how much I miss you. You and Lori both. Making pancakes and playing with Lori yesterday, making love with you this morning, waking with you in my bed -- I've got feelings for you that I never felt even when I was married. I don't want you to go to your home, but I know you're going to. I don't want you to say goodbye, but I know you have to, and I don't want to wait until next time. I think I've fallen in love with you."

She looked down at her hand in mine; I felt her fingers squeeze mine momentarily. "I think my answer is all three. I need to go home this time, but you're going to have to bring me here again, and it'll be your place, not mine."

A short while later I helped carry Lori from the car into her tiny apartment, putting her into hers and her mom's bed. I realized as I did, I'd never even been in Linda's bedroom before. The sliding door to her closet was standing open; I realized for the first time how little Linda really had when I saw there were more children's clothes than adult. I stepped out of the room; Linda tucked Lori in and then followed.

"You're not going to bed?" I questioned, her actions for some reason indicating otherwise.

"Oh, I wish." She glanced at her desk, several books stacked on the corner. "I've got an Anatomy test tomorrow morning, and some damn professor whose initials are Rick, but I won't mention his name, scheduled a mid-term on Wednesday; my car broke down and I had to get another one. I missed out on two days of studying, but... I also had the most wonderful date I've ever been on and I did get eight hours uninterrupted sleep. But no, too many complications came up this weekend; I don't think I'll be going to bed tonight."

I stepped over to open the door, disjointed thoughts pummeling my mind. Complications; there it was again -- that word. But, I had to admit, from what she'd just said, it was true -- she'd had multiple complications, all of which meant that she was now going to have to study, perhaps all night. But she had said it was a wonderful date and we could do it again.... I felt her hand on my arm, I turned back. "Rick, thank you for being there for me."

I reached up to her hand, moments later she was in my arms, her lips against mine, her body melting against me. My hand went to the small of her back, holding her tightly against me; her hands went to my face, holding it against hers, and then holding it still while she moved hers away. "Six months, Dr. B, and this nightmare portion of my life will be over." She pushed herself away from me, "Now go." I nodded and turned back to the door once again. I pulled the door open, reached for the screen when she spoke.

"Rick?" I turned back once again, my hand on the door.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you too."

~

"Doctor Ber... Doctor Bernash..." the inquisitor began.

"Doctor B is fine. Even people that know it don't say it correctly most of the time."

"Fine, Dr. B it is. This is an official inquiry instigated by the Board of Governors into certain alleged improprieties between the professional staff and the students. You're not being accused of anything, you're merely here to answer questions about your classes, your grades and how certain events transpired."

And so it started.

We'd all heard about the abrupt dismissal and replacement of a professor from another department. We'd heard how the professor had gone in and been questioned, and then there had been a flurry of students and former students, all female, called in to speak to the board; how the last day a couple of unmarked police cars were in the visitors parking lot as the professor was questioned yet again and at the end of the day, he'd resigned and walked away. We'd also heard how multiple students had been able to offer their observations, complaints, or suspicions about other professors, but unless there was some corroborating evidence that turned up nothing had come of it.

So far there had been a multitude of professors questioned; most just a perfunctory visit, and then they were off. No one was told not to talk about it, and most everything people said was that it was just innocuous questions about how's and why's for certain grades that had been made.

"We've had a statistical consultant examining grades and class scoring for several months. There have been multiple items from multiple professors that have been investigated; however, with one exception, they have all been easily explained and understandable. So if you would, can you start by explaining your grading system?"

"Of course," I said. Turning to my briefcase I pulled out the generic syllabus sheet that explained my rules and handed one to each of the four. "I hand this out to my classes at the start of every semester; it explains the scoring and grading system. There are generally 1000 points available in a semester and it takes 90%, or at least 90% of the points available before the final, to get an A. If anyone in the class has 90% of the available points at the time of the last class session, they cannot do any better -- they can only do worse and they've already shown they can do "A" work -- so I excuse them from the final. A little incentive to try harder, if you will. Everyone else has the opportunity to better their grade through the final exam."

"And do you always follow this formula exactly?"

"Generally, but I have made exceptions in extraordinary cases."

"Yes, we saw that. Our investigators found exactly as you've stated except for a single anomaly to your scoring system." He held up a sheet of paper for me to see but didn't offer it to me. "Your grades have all exactly followed the 90-80-70 rule except for the semester before last. In that one we found that four student's grades have been arbitrarily adjusted, which is certainly a professors prerogative -- except when it's made for the wrong reasons. Can you tell us why you adjusted these four grades?"

"I can. Actually, you're incorrect. I adjusted all except two. There were two students that had greater than 90% going into the final, and they got an automatic A. Their scores will not show a final exam score, but they did get an A. The others I had an extraordinary circumstance brought to my attention and decided to adjust a grade. I didn't feel it was fair to adjust just one person's grade without giving the same consideration to all -- so I revised the total available number of points for the class downward. Everyone got a jump upward by a fraction of a percent in their score, but it only made a difference to four students. "

"Dr. B," I looked over at the woman, who was speaking for the first time. "I presume this student you're speaking of was Miss Simpson? I see that according to the revised scoring she received exactly a 90% mark."

"That's correct."

"And can you share with us her extraordinary circumstance that required you to change your grading scale?"

"I can." I paused, sweat beaded up on my forehead. Although I'd prepared for this since I'd heard the rumors about inquiries were true, and especially after a certain Humanities professor had abruptly resigned or most likely had been dismissed, I hadn't known just exactly what or how far they would continue to question. "Miss Simpson is an extraordinary student. Driven like no other student I've ever had. She's a dedicated student, who works full time, and is also single mother. She went out of her way to follow-up on assignments when she couldn't make it to class, usually because of her daughter. I didn't allow credit for late homework or makeups on unannounced quizzes; yet she always turned in her homework even though I did not give her credit. She came to me after the last class, obviously upset that she had not made the "automatic A" of 90%, and wanted to know whether it was possible for her to still get an A. I ran the calculation, and even with a perfect final exam paper -- she would still be a few points short of 90%. She asked if there was any extra credit available that could help her make up the difference, and I told her I hadn't planned on anything. When I looked at her transcript, it showed that she had completed nearly 3 years of college with nothing but A's. When I looked at her class record, with one exception she'd made perfect scores on everything she'd done. She'd missed several quizzes and gotten zeros for those but had perfect scores on every quiz taken. She had several homework's turned in but received no credit, indicating she'd missed those classes but had done the work and turned the homework in anyway; she had perfect marks on three of four tests, but made one error on one test that compounded into several problems being wrong. The combined totals of the missing homework, missing quiz scores, and one moderate test error during the entire semester meant that she could not reach the 90% mark. I took all of this into consideration and told her before the final exam that if she managed a perfect score on the final exam, I would reconsider. I imagine that wasn't even difficult for her to achieve, and after she scored a perfect paper on her final, I adjusted the scoring, so she received an A, and adjusted everyone else's by the same percentage."