Teacher's Pet Complete Series (21 page)

It was around three in the morning when Bobbi and Sonja had to practically carry me home. I recalled a lot of giggling and bumping into things, trying to get through the door and to my bed. Once Simon sped away, I went back in the club and broke all vows to myself in regards to never drinking. I lost count after my third apple martini and second shot of tequila and… I couldn’t remember what else.

The girls threw me on the bed with a bounce, then set a place on the floor for Bobbi to sleep on. She had to stay the night because she was pretty wasted herself, and I believed her maternal instincts were taking over.

“Are you all right?” she asked, but it came out “Ess you awight?” as she checked on me before I fell asleep. I nodded; she smiled and kissed me on the cheek before I turned to let my body slip into the comfort and ease of darkness.

My head started buzzing. I cracked my eyes open, thinking my hangover had begun, so I moved to get up, get aspirin and some water. But then it buzzed again, under me. What the…? I dug under my pillow, wrapped my hands around my cell phone and picked it up to see I had a text. It was from Dane. Funny, I didn’t remember ever giving the guy my number, but then again, he was really good at finding out information. What the hell was he doing texting me at this time of the night… or was it morning?

Are you alone?

The words on the screen confused me. Why would I need to be alone for texting? I dimmed the light on my phone and then peeked over my shoulder. Sonja and Bobbi were engaged in an in-depth conversation most likely about me, but I really couldn’t tell. Oh well, what could I do? They seemed well enough distracted, so I turned back to the wall and returned Dane’s text.

Alone enough, why, what do you want?

Be nice, I come bearing gifts.

Instead of receiving an immediate response, it took at least ten minutes before Dane texted again, and several pictures followed soon after. So many pictures, in fact, my old, busted Metro phone started to slow down and freeze. I huffed in frustration and thought of smashing it on the wall, but a cooler head prevailed and I was patient.

Over a half an hour had passed of me hiding my phone in the corner before I was finally able to see the pictures Dane had sent me. At first I was confused. I blamed it on the alcohol for slowing down my thinking, or maybe my left-side-dominant brain just couldn’t comprehend his artful flare. The pictures started with Dane in a suit, expensive as usual and gray. The suit fit him custom-perfect, as they usually did, with brown shoes, a white shirt unbuttoned at the top and a tie, but it was loose around his neck.

The next series of pictures were him posing by a blank wall taking off various pieces of his suit. First went the jacket, then the shoes, next was the shirt and so on. I started to get impatient and a little annoyed, because I found myself wanting to see him naked.

Get to the point already.

Patience… Keep looking. It’s coming!

I sighed and continued to wait as my two friends chattered on behind me. I caught a few words here and there, and without question I knew they were talking about me now. I didn’t know how they could manage such a serious conversation, or be sober enough to discuss their concerns about me—or anyone else, for that matter. Perhaps I was a sobering subject. Apparently there were concerns about my life being out of control and that I was being derailed from achieving the goals I set for myself.

I stuck my tongue out at them like a spoiled, defiant child, even though they couldn’t see me when I did it. I went back to my phone and giving Dane my attention. He was a helpful distraction from all the judgment going on.

My nipples started to harden as Dane finally stripped down to his boxers. About time he got down to what mattered. All the other shit he’d shown was teasing, and I got it but didn’t have the patience. Not today. Dane’s muscles were glistening with sweat and highlighted by the flash of his cell phone. His pectorals stood out like beacons of hope as my head swam to the shore from near drowning.

I opened the last series of pictures; saw the bulge of Dane’s cock, captured perfectly on the screen, taking up more room than it should. I couldn’t believe I’d almost had it between my legs—or I
did
have it between my legs. I still didn’t know. I moistened my lips with my tongue, fantasizing, pretending I held him in my hands. Oh, the things alcohol will have you thinking.

Show me yours?

Nerves traveled all throughout my body as suddenly I was put on the spot, and oddly enough I felt some excitement at the prospect of sending him pictures. It was something I had never done before, and the thought felt somewhat liberating. I looked over at the girls, who were finally asleep, so I tried not to make much noise.

I reached down into my bedside drawer to search for something sexy to take a picture in. Bending down, I realized my head was still woozy, and I was way too clumsy to get into my drawer, much less get up and change clothes.

It turned out to be irrelevant, as I tumbled to the floor, having shifted my weight too much to the right. It was so whisper-quiet in the room when I fell that the sound went
BOOM!
like a bomb. The girls hopped up, chests heaving, necks twisting, then they came to me to see if I was okay. They stared at me for a minute with concern in their eyes, which turned into smirks before they laughed and pointed at me.

I could admit when something was funny, and it was—especially when I landed with my back on the floor, my legs still on my bed and my cell phone on my face. We laughed it up, even though it was at my expense.

My phone buzzed again, and as I reached toward my face to answer the call, Bobbi picked up my phone and looked at the screen. Her face went from amused to shocked, to dismayed as I watched her flip through the pictures, swiping from left and then slowly to the right. Her eyes grew bigger with every picture that she saw, but I was too drunk to be ashamed.

“I knew it!” Sonja looked over Bobbi’s shoulder. Not as impressed with the nakedness of Dane until she saw… “Whoa, look at his cock!”

Bobbi shot her a look. She pushed a few buttons, changed my password, locked my phone, placed it in her purse and zipped it up. She wasn’t going to let me respond to Dane, at least until I got a little sleep.

I didn’t remember climbing back into bed but I remembered my phone ringing, inside Bobbi’s purse, like a muffled, trapped canary.
Note to self, please change that annoying ringtone.
Dane was being persistent and probably growing frustrated; he didn’t seem like the patient type, nor was he the type to give up.

Bobbi unzipped her purse to pull out my phone, glanced at the ID and gave me a quizzical look. I was surprised when she placed the phone to her ear, but then again, he was disturbing her sleep. “Hello Mrs. Minnelli,” she said. I sat up in bed. “Yes, Lynn’s right here. Sure, she’s awake. I’m handing the phone to her now.”

My whole body went rigid. I’d been avoiding my mother’s phone calls for weeks because I didn’t want her to pry about what had been going on in my life. She’s observant that way; of my tone of speech, of my body language. She always has been, and I just… I just didn’t want to have to deal with it. I placed the phone to my ear and tried to sound extremely sleepy.

“Hey, Mom.” I faked a yawn. “Why are you calling me so late? Is everything okay?”

“Goodness, Lynora, I’ve been so worried sick about you. Do you know I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks? Why haven’t you responded to any of my messages?”

Although my mother came across loud and clear, I found myself feeling more annoyed than anything else. I had been out of the home for nearly four years, living on campus at the university. Was it my job to check in all the time? I was an adult, and she needed to realize that. I was short tempered, tipsy and sleepy at the moment. I didn’t have the patience for hearing this.

“Well, Mom, since you asked, let me tell you what’s been going on. Professor Temple, you know, my boss? Well, she left on early maternity leave. Her replacement… hot guy… irresistible, and did I mention he was hot? Well, I screwed up and I slept with him. I really didn’t like him much at the time, but what the hell, shit happens. Then he fired me, and soon after I met his brother. I got back together with my boss and got my job back only to get drunk and have sex with his brother, if you believe it, thus screwing my job situation up again. Tonight, my friends took me out to get the whole thing off my mind and the guy showed up—the original brother, that is—and oops, I slept with him again, against a wall, in the rain, out in public; afterwards he made it loud and clear that he didn’t want anything to do with me, so too bad so sad, right? Oh, and I am about to graduate, so that’s good news. I’m sure you’ve received your invitation by now, but I’m currently very behind on my schoolwork. How’s that for what’s going on?” My breathing was out of control.

I braced for the blowback. My mother is a very prudish woman; she would have to be appalled to the point of nausea with what I’d just said. She’d most likely hang up and possibly never talk to me again.

But instead I got: “Lynn, you’ve got to learn that life is too short in the grand scheme of things. You are still young, but you won’t be that way forever. You are smart and sweet and pretty, and sometimes those traits can get in the way of your priorities, but at some point you have to get serious and do something worthwhile. Boys and college parties aren’t worthwhile, and neither are short-term jobs that you can’t keep.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this.

“So my suggestion to you is,” she continued, “instead of getting involved with random men you hardly know, you should be out there ironing out your career. You’re squandering your chances, Lynora, and it makes me so sad. You had so much potential in high school. I wish you could look inside yourself and put it all together before it gets too late. Your father and I want you to succeed. We didn’t work all these hours putting a massive strain on our marriage for you to go and squander it now.”

I felt insulted and baffled, really. I knew there were a lot of things my parents hadn’t approved of—how I picked up and left without so much as a goodbye, how I handled the whole college situation by myself and majoring in econ without consulting them at all. I got her concern, but despite all the mistakes I’d made, I was set to graduate—I had stellar grades in all of my classes and plenty of opportunity. Why couldn’t she see that? Why did she have such an inability to see any good in what I was doing?

“Like always, Mom, you’re pushing and pushing the life that you wanted on me. Just because I am not following your mapped-out plan of being a doctor or a lawyer, that doesn’t mean the path I chose is wrong. I am going to school to be able to do what I love to do—which is what you love to do, by the way—and I am following my own instincts doing it. This is why I haven’t answered your phone calls; because you judge and tear me down instead of being a good mother and supporting what I’m doing, giving me advice, or some comfort. It’s no wonder Dad left you. It’s no wonder at all, in my opinion.”

The minute the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back, but it was too late. Nothing came from her end for at least a full minute. I heard my mother breathing, but that was all—the rest was silence and tension. “I am sorry that’s how you feel, Lynora. I’m just a mother concerned for her daughter. That’s all. We’ll see you at graduation, okay? I love you.” She hung up.

I felt guilty with what I’d said to her. My mother didn’t deserve that. Her and my dad worked their fingers to the bone to be able to afford my tuition. I was a horrible daughter. There was no doubt about it. I needed to hang my head in shame.

By the look on Bobbi’s face, and Sonja’s body language, I knew I had messed up something awful. I should call my mother back, but she wouldn’t answer the phone. She usually shut down when she was upset.

The more I thought about it, the more anxiety it caused. There was a sour, acidic taste building up in back of my throat. I tried to swallow it, but it was persistent and came up again. I shot up off my bed and ran to the toilet.

Everything I said, and everything I’d done, the guilt, the fear, bad decisions I’d made, all came up at once and emptied out into the bowl.

Sunrays became lasers shooting through my brain. My head was throbbing and rumbling like there was thunder in my skull. Someone forgot to close the blinds last night. I couldn’t remember much, so it was possible it was me. At most I remembered my name and date of birth. Much beyond that was nothing but static. I rolled over in bed and looked to my right to see Bobbi on the floor splayed out on her belly with her arms wide apart like a homicide victim, minus the white chalk and yellow tape.

She was entangled in a mess of spare blankets, flat pillows and a sleeping bag I had from a camping trip five years ago. I hated every minute of camping. Why anyone claimed to enjoy it was truly lost on me; the sheer amount of the dirt, the sweltering heat, the bugs that kept flying in my face. Sleeping on the ground was the worst thing ever. It took a week to get rid of the crick in my neck.

Across the room Sonja was sleeping soundly and fully naked, to no one’s surprise. Her body was creepily still and she was lying flat on her back, almost like she wasn’t breathing or she was dead. I’d never known anyone who could sleep like that. Most people when they’re drunk tend to snore, but no, not her. She was lying there with her arms across her chest as quiet as can be, like a vampire.

There was a taste in my mouth I found hard to describe, like a mix of sour bitters, stale alcohol and sweetness. It coated my tongue and I could smell it when I breathed. It was upsetting to my stomach and making me nauseous.