It was an autumn afternoon and the wind had a brisk bite as it blew across the steadily emptying parking lot of William Jefferson Clinton High School.
Gretchen Ames did not feel the chill however, despite the fact that the cheerleader's uniform she was wearing was so very brief. The passionate, hungry kisses being pressed to her lips alone would have probably been enough to fight off the cold - certainly, they were igniting quite a fire in the eighteen year old senior - but her boyfriend was also crushing her between his car and himself and she found that his big, muscular body worked well as a windbreak. Nineteen year old Tommy Halpern, the star running back of his school's football team, wasn't feeling the cold either though, just the slender young body he was leaning into, the open mouth beneath his, and the firm breast he was holding onto so firmly.
The girl broke the kiss at last to come up for some air, enjoying the feel of something very big and rock hard against her hip. Her guy may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he was strong, he was popular, and he was hung.
"You know, if I didn't know better," she teased, her eyes sparkling, "I'd say you kinda liked me."
As ususal, he didn't really catch that she was just kidding. "Oh, yeah, I like you," he enthused eagerly, not wanting his girl to think for a moment that he didn't. He had one of the hottest girls in school on his arm and he had no intention of losing her because she felt unappreciated. "As a matter of fact, I lo- . . ." his voice trailed off for a moment as, like so many men his age and older, he had some trouble with the L word. "I really, really like you! A lot!"
Though her smile never wavered, Gretchen hid a little sigh. She should have known better. It was lucky for him that he had so many other wonderful qualities to compensate or someone as dumb as this big ox would never have gotten the time of day from her.
"How about you show me how much you like me?" she ventured, one hand going to that sizable swelling in his pants. I think it would be really hot if you fucked me right here at school."
The young man nodded quickly, a big and very happy smile on his face. "Yeah, yeah!" This was one proposition that he did not need interpreted. Tommy backed away from her a step so that he could stuff a hand into his pocket for his car keys, but she stopped him hastily by grabbing hold of his wrist.
"No, babe - not in the backseat of your car, again."
He gave her a confused look. "No?"
They had done it in the backseat of his car before and, even though that was a rite of passage of sorts that she thought everybody should do at least once, the fact remained that it really was an awkward and uncomfortable place to have sex. In any case, when she'd said that she wanted to do it at the school, she'd hadn't meant someplace so mundane as the parking lot.
Oh, no. She had a much better spot in mind.
"Let's go back inside," she urged him, motioning towards the building with her head. "Let's do it in my algebra classroom!"
That idea startled him. "Inside the school building? But what about Mrs. Lawler?"
"Don't worry about her. That old bitch will have left by now."
Gretchen had always hated math, but this algebra class was proving to be worst than anything that had come before. It was pure torture for her just to sit through it everyday, much less to have all of those stupid, mind-numbing formulas and equations that she could never understand thrown at her. She liked the teacher even less than the class as she was convinced that a mean old cow like Mrs. Lawler had it in for young, beautiful and popular girls like her.
The cheerleader knew for a fact that she would be flunking that class now if she hadn't gotten a certain math nerd to do the work for her in exchange for showing him her boobs.
That was why going back into the school and having her boyfriend nail her right there on the teacher's desk seemed like such a great idea to her. Firstly, it was a willful desecration of that vile woman's lair. Secondly, it would give the cheerleader some happy memories that she could daydream over when she would otherwise be bored stiff.
Tommy was hesitant though, spending several long moments looking back and forth between the school building and his girlfriend. "You really think we could get away with that, Gretchen?"
"I know so, babe." There was nothing but confidence in her voice.
Tommy took another speculative look at the building, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would agree to her demands. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Gretchen and maybe not get to have sex with her at all. "Well, okay, then."
"Great!" she cried, bounding up and off the car to give him a quick kiss. "Meet me there, okay? It's room 222. I have something to take care of first, but I'll meet you there in just a few minutes."
"Huh? Where are you going?"
She was already rushing away though, pretending that she didn't hear him.
It was better to keep Tommy in the dark about where she was going, she told herself with a smirk. The last thing she needed was for her guy to find out she was showing her goods to someone else, get all jealous, and pound her math nerd into the dirt.
He couldn't do her algebra for her if he was in the hospital, after all.
* * *
Jack Miller was the Principal of Clinton High and he had long ago made it a habit to tour the halls each afternoon as the place emptied so that he could make sure all was in order, but on at least a few days each week, he also liked to make a little pit stop.
Affecting an air of great casualness that would have been utterly unconvincing had anyone been there to see it, he paused for a moment not too far from the closed door of one of the classrooms to glance up and down the hallway. Nobody could have seen him without wondering what he was really up to.
As the school's Principal, there were a dozen or more very good reasons why he should be stopping for a few minutes to visit with one of his teachers, but he still preferred to be surreptitious about it. He knew that tongues would wag if he was seen going into one particular classroom regularly and closing the door behind him.
To his great relief, he saw that the hallway was empty for the moment and he decided to seize this opportunity to get inside unobserved. He took a quick step towards the door, but had to veer off at the last second when he heard the sound of sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. When a teenaged girl passed through the intersection not four yards away only a moment later, he had his back to her and was pretending to peruse the notices on a bulletin board.
Jack stared at the bulletin board without seeing it, listening with all of his might until the sound of squeaking shoes finally faded away into the distance. Only when all was again quiet did he look back over his shoulder cautiously to reassure himself that he was once more alone.
