I took a seat at the back of the classroom, hoping that she wouldnât notice my presence amongst her regular classmates. While far from full, there were many students already there and I was glad that I was in time to choose the seat I wanted. I had worn a cap with the school logo on it, and I figured that with any amount of luck even if she did see me, sheâd take me for one of the students that she didnât donât know very well. I kept my head down, anyway.
She came into the classroom and as always seeing her enchanted me. Long and lean with a look of intelligence and smoldering allure that the younger students couldnât hope to match. The whole room just seemed to light up when she walked into it. And I know that this wasnât just a biased opinion. She was too busy talking to the guy she had entered with to notice, but I could clearly see the other boys around her perk up, trying a little harder to look cool while pretending not to look at her. She was nibbling on a strand of hair as she took her seat near the front of the class. After a couple minutes of gentle hubbub, the professor arrived and began speaking.
It was a calculus class and I was bored silly. Although she had always loved math, it never held any appeal for me. But I dutifully took notes as if I cared so that the others at my table couldnât somehow divine my real purpose. My attention was really focused on the back of her head. Her hair was so dark and pretty, with little streaks of red that she had added just to enhance its appeal. I loved it and I wished I could be closer. I could even hear her voice once in a while as she whispered to the kid sitting next to her, and even that tiny bit of contact with her was enough to make me feel close.
A couple of times she put her hand in the air, anxious to show that she knew what was going on, that she know the answers to all of the questions. The other students were resigned to her intelligence; after all â isnât there one know-it-all in every class? I think that I was the only one who could sense that she was holding back, that she could have answered many more but she donât want to in case she might be labeled the âteacherâs pet.â
Finally the class was over, and none to soon for me. As the students gathered their books and left, I mixed in with them. I knew her well enough to know that sheâd stay to talk to the teacher for a minute, unable to contain her enthusiasm for her class enough to just walk out like the others. I was able to leave unnoticed by her.
I had scoped out her route from class on several previous occasions, and I knew which way sheâd go. I waited patiently for her to finish her tĂȘte-Ă -tĂȘte and pass me by in the hallway. I lowered my head as she came close and she didnât even notice me. But I noticed her. She looked so damned sexy in those jeans that it was all I could do not to pounce on her right then. Instead I fell behind and watched her seductive ass as she walked towards her car so that she could drive to her next class.
Her path took her down a seldom-used hallway, and then down one that was even more seldom used. There was a door to the south parking lot there that most of the students didnât know about, and we were alone. As we walked I closed the distance between us and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and turned to face me, a combination of surprise and anger on her face, with just a tincture of fear mixed in deep.
âYes?â she said angrily. Then her eyes widened as they took in my visage, and her look became a question as her mind conjured the picture of me that I had sent her over the internet and compared it to the man in front of her. The man who had become her closest friend. âKevin?â she whispered wonderingly. âIs that you?â
I wasted no time, for indeed, I did not know how much time we had. âI want to know something.â She was surprised, for this is not the answer you she been expecting. A smile and a quick hug maybe, or perhaps some light embarrassment while they became acquainted. But certainly not this cold inquisition.
âHave you been thinking about me?â
She was taken aback, surprised. This wasnât at all what she had thought our first meeting would be like. Where was the guy sheâd come to know online? Where was the friend and confidant? Surely this couldnât be him. And why was he so damned enigmatic? What was I really asking her anyhow? And what kind of an answer did I really want - the truth or a lie? Was I looking for a balm for my ego, or was my mind already decided and no matter what she said she was going to hurt somebodyâs feelings â either her husbandâs or her mysterious new Internet friendâs. I saw in her eyes so many thoughts racing through her head. Before she could marshal them well enough to answer me I asked her again, injecting a note of steel into my voice.
âTell me the truth. Have you been thinking about me when you should have been thinking about your husband?â Glacial didnât begin to describe my tone. It was sleek and icy and almost inhuman. I could see her shiver and it reminded me of the old sayings about someone walking on your grave. I knew what she was thinking. What would her husband think if she told me the truth? What would I?
She was caught in between her loyalty to her husband and her desire to confess the truth to me. Wonderingly she looked into my eyes to see if there was a clue there that would help her decide her answer. Obviously what she could see there did not comfort her. She bit her lip as a tear came unbidden to her eye. It was like reading a book on her face as her thoughts raced down different roads. Dammit, if her husband knew better how to appease her inner desires then she wouldnât even be here. It would be his own fault if this came back to hurt him. Had she been thinking of the man from the internet when she was with her husband? She decided to tell me the truth.
She nodded.
âI thought so,â I said. It surprised me a little to hear that my voice wasnât any warmer. In fact the coldness there was even frostier. And was that a little anger creeping in underneath?
I grabbed her by the shoulders, and her books tumbled to the floor. She knew as well as I did why I chose this place to confront her and it wasnât because of the swarms of students here. The sounds of the books falling on the linoleum went unheard. My hands closed tightly around her arms.
âYou think I donât know what youâre doing? You think I donât know what youâre thinking?â I was practically spitting the words in a hard frozen whisper. âYou sleep with him whenever he wants, but you think of me. You arenât satisfied with his love, and you wonât tell him the truth because youâre afraid. Afraid of what it might mean to your marriage, afraid of what it might mean to your vows.â
I turned her roughly around so that she was facing the tile wall and pushed her hard against it. A tiny squeal escaped her lips as I pushed her hard enough to flatten her breasts against the cold wall. Her hands pushed in vain against the wall, trying to push her back, to push her away, but it was no use. I tangled my fingers in her hair and pressed her face against the wall. My grip was fierce and unrelenting, and she could not move.
âItâs time that you were punished for how you treat him. And since Ben canât do it because he doesnât know of your betrayal, I will have to.â Her breathing became faster, and a hunted look of fear came into her eye while it stole her breath away. This canât be! This isnât how our meeting was supposed to go! Was I some kind of maniac? What kind of man had she gotten herself involved with?