Authors Note: This story takes place sometime in the past. While it is not necessarily probable that two people could stay locked inside a school building without being discovered, it was certainly possible decades ago.
As always, if butch/femme pairings and large age differences are not your thing, skip this story. Otherwise, please enjoy!
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Long after the last bell rang through the vast halls of F.W. Harmony High School, Joanne Didier stood just outside room 326. She cast a furtive glance over her shoulder from time to time. Her heart felt like a pair of delicate hummingbird wings, fluttering erratically from random bursts of nervous adrenaline. She figured she'd waited long enough, laying low while dozens of hormone-addled teens pushed and shoved their way towards the first available exit. It was Friday afternoon, the start of another weekend. Joanne did her best to stay focused as she reflected on what she hoped was soon to come.
She'd called home during lunch period and told her mom that she was sleeping at Charlotte Peterson's house. This was a favorite lie used interchangeably with her best friend whenever one or the other was up to no good. Charlotte told her friend that it was no problem. "Just don't get caught." She'd said during math class as she gathered her books in her arms and headed out the door for her locker.
The endless hallway on the 3rd floor was dark and eerily silent. Gone were the students, trying (and often failing) to dodge the hall monitors stationed at each end. Gone were the teachers who dashed from classroom to workroom in the hopes of being at the head of the line for the lone ditto machine. Gone were the janitors who lazily pushed their deck brooms over the shining terrazzo floors while checking the wall clock, anticipating their next break.
Joanne ducked inside the nearest girls' room and stood in front of the large mirror over the bank of sinks to straighten her hair. At 18, Joanne Didier is an All-American sort of beauty. She has an angelic, childlike face framed with cascades of thick copper-colored hair that flows past her shoulders. She produced a brush from her book bag and ran it through her hair a few times before leaving the safety of the bathroom. Once she was back in the empty hall, she turned her sapphire blue eyes to room 326. Her careful breath drew in a hint of chalk dust and slight apprehension.
This was not the first time she'd waited for her algebra teacher, Miss Wright. Ever since the school year began, they have been meeting each other for one reason or another. After a while, they'd built up enough of a rapport that they started passing each other notes in the hall during passing period. The note might be hidden in a textbook that Joanne would "accidentally" drop, or the two might literally bump into each other in the crush of students trying to fight their way like salmon travelling upstream to their next class.
Miss Bobbie Jean Wright sat alone in room 326, grading the last of her 6th period algebra tests before turning to write something in her gradebook. Miss Wright is in her early to mid-40s—perhaps 50 for all Joanne could guess. She is a well-groomed, rather prim looking butch woman with rather pale skin sprinkled modestly with freckles. Her boyishly cropped light strawberry blond hair paired well with her clear, ice blue eyes. For all intents, Miss Wright looked more like a gym teacher than a math teacher. Two nights a week, Miss Wright coaches the girls' varsity cross country. It was actually through cross country that Joanne and Miss Wright struck up their unusual friendship.
Joanne put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle an errant giggle while she watched Miss Wright getting out of her seat. The older woman was facing the blackboard while she glanced down at the lesson planner balanced in the crook of her arm. She took up a stub of chalk and proceeded to fill one side of the blackboard with equations meant for the next chapter's lesson. She must have heard the giggles because she suddenly dropped the chalk stub and cursed softly to herself when it shattered into a mass of jagged crumbs and white powder.
Miss Wright was aware of Joanne watching her in the doorway. The beautiful senior wanted to walk inside, but she hesitated. She'd already exhausted any and every excuse she could think of to see her teacher every day after school. She'd already gone for tutoring, and she was in cross country. She tried to keep things discreet, but she was paranoid that some of her classmates would start talking. Even though she was certain the building was mostly empty at this time of day, she decided to stay at the threshold. One can never be too careful!
With a small whisk broom and dustpan, Miss Wright did her best to sweep up the little mess caused by the broken chalk stub. When she finished, she regarded the beautiful copper-haired girl with a stern expression. The teacher dumped the contents of the dustpan into the wastebasket by the door, and set it in the hall for the janitor to pick up. Joanne had to jump out of the way as her teacher did this.
"I have a few things I've got to take care of, Joanne." Miss Wright said in a low, brusque voice. "I think you should wait downstairs."
Joanne silently turned away from room 326 and smiled to herself...but not too wide. Joanne had planned this for weeks with Miss Wright. In a flurry of secretly passed notes and spoken code after cross country practice, both teacher and student hatched a plan that most sane people would dismiss as utterly preposterous and wholly inappropriate. Joanne Didier could hardly believe it when Miss Wright reluctantly agreed to go along with her nutty idea of staying overnight in the school basement!
To Joanne, the idea at the time seemed perfect—foolproof! The basement level of F.W. Harmony was undergoing a partial remodeling. There were plenty of halls and unused rooms down there where anyone could easily hide if they wanted the privacy. Of course, Joanne Didier wanted nothing more in the whole world than to hide away with Bobbie Jean Wright. It was Joanne's senior year, but she couldn't wait! She wanted to savor the older woman's kisses in privacy rather than having to steal errant pecks on the off chance no one was looking. She was so sick of trying to find excuses to stay after school or wait around after cross country practice to have the chance to spend time alone with Miss Wright. Until she came up with the idea a few weeks ago, she was certain she'd really have to wait until graduation to enjoy solitude with her teacher.
It was so late now! The halls of F.W. Harmony echoed with each careful step Joanne took as she hurried down the three flights of stairs to the basement level. All that was left now was darkness and a lingering aroma of textbooks, chalk dust, and musty gym equipment.
The basement is a sprawling dark maze consisting of several classrooms and the cafeteria in one wing, and a group of empty rooms often used for gym classes in another. Joanne headed in this direction and dashed down a blackened hall filled with stacks of boxes, debris, and old desks and chairs. There was a pair of solid wood doors indicating the girls' and boys' PE offices respectively. The gorgeous girl's eyes settled on the right hand door, her destination.
She'd visited the confines of this office several times for different reasons. Sometimes it was to discuss grades with her gym teacher, Miss Neal. Other times she would stay here after cross country practice to help Miss Wright put away equipment and talk. On the off chance that no classmates were lingering, Joanne would find herself lost in a passion-charged embrace with Miss Wright. Their mouths would mash together, and their tongues fought for the other's touch before a noise would startle them both, and they'd reluctantly break their kiss.
The pool and the girls' locker room were a couple doors down. Joanne would try valiantly to make their trysts last. She'd jokingly offer sometimes to shower for Miss Wright, but her teacher always regarded her student with a chilling expression before flatly ordering her to go home. Miss Wright was always so professional, so proper! But sometimes when Joanne left the locker room after her post-practice shower, she'd notice a soft yellow light pouring out from the gap near the floor. She imagined that poor Miss Wright was probably sitting behind the desk working on something; the hardened features of her face rapt with errant lust.