Jan heard a faint knocking once again. At first she thought it was the squirrels running on the roof again, but now it seemed to be coming from the front door. They had a bell. It couldn't be anyone. She looked out the peephole just in case.
There was a girl there. She had a slim frame, with freshly teased mousy brown hair. Her eyebrows needed to be thinned. An extra 10 pounds would do the girl good. She was chewing nervously on her lower lip. Her hand continually smoothed her clothes as if they could somehow make her drab clothes a bit prettier.
Jan opened the door. "Can I help you?" she asked.
The girl blushed a bright red. "I was just - I was - ah - raising money for..." she stammered.
"For what?" Jan asked, arching a thin eyebrow.
"A - school - trip..." the poor girl looked as if she were ready to bolt.
"Where to?" Jan smiled, the girl was obviously lying.
There was a pause. "France." the girl volunteered.
"I'll ask my husband Mark to see if there is really a class trip to France when he gets home."
"I don't got to Mr. Mitchell's school," the girl blurted.
"How do you know where my husband teaches?" Jan asked as the young eighteen year old fell into her trap.
"I - I " The girl blushed even redder. She looked down at her shoes. "I really need to go."
Jan's mind was a whirl. She'd frightened the girl off. That was her goal at the start, but now, something in her wanted the girl to stick around. It was all the excitement she'd had all day.
If she wanted the girl back, she needed do it quickly. This girl had to be one of her husband's students, but which one? There were so many. She helped grade his papers, certainly she'd graded this girl's. Who did the best on the tests? Who. Shanon? No, it would be the honors class. This girl was definitely honors material.
The girl was leaving. She had to hurry. She took a wild guess.
"Where are you going Leslie?" Jan asked the retreating girl, stopping her in her tracks.
"Turn around Leslie," Jan said, her suspicions confirmed. "And come back here."
"Please don't tell," Leslie begged the woman. How had the woman known her name? Had Mr. Mitchell been talking about her. God, what if this woman...not just a woman. His wife. What if she knew? "This was a big mistake."
Jan opened the door wider. "Why don't you come in Leslie." she said. "So we can have a little chat."
"Yes ma'am." the girl gulped visibly as she stumbled into the house.
"Are you having difficulty seeing?" Jan smiled.
"I-I I need my glasses."
The tall thin girl put on her glasses. The were thick and ugly. Things began to fall into place. They were enough set her apart. To make it difficult to find friends. The girl's height would make it difficult for boys to approach her. Her brains would make it harder still. Her attempt to find someone outside of her ordinary social circle would be difficult at best.
She would go outside her circle to find someone. Anyone. The girl had a crush. A teacher's crush.
'Have a seat," Jan said, pulling out a chair from the dining table. "Can I make you a soda or something?"
"Please," Leslie whispered, anything to delay the inevitable.
Jan made two diet cokes and put a shot of Jack Daniel's in her own and joined the eighteen year old in the dining room.
"So what was your plan?" Jan asked. "Were you going to come over here and seduce my husband?"
"No," Leslie shook her head for emphasis, but her blushing cheeks gave her away. She'd never thought of Jan. Oh, she knew Mr. Mitchell was married, but she'd never thought of his wife. She never thought of anything like that, just the way his ice blue eyes made her knees quake. The way his deep voice had worked its way into her fantasies.
Jan was feeling very conflicted. On one hand, this was the sort of girl who kept her up at night. She knew her husband was attractive, plus he was an authority figure. She knew there were all those young girls there at high school and some would be eager to steal her husband away.
On the other hand. She had been unemployed for a month now, and her self esteem was making new lows daily. And she was bored. This girl, this blushing trembling young girl, was making her feel powerful. Dominant. Making her - hot.
"How old are you?" Jan asked.
"Eighteen." Leslie volunteered.
"Parents divorced?"
Leslie shook her head.
"Does your mom work?"
Another shake of the head.
"How would you feel if I went over to your house and seduced your dad?" Jan asked. "If he left you and your mom. And she didn't have a way to pay the bills? How would that feel? And then after, what if I didn't even have respect enough to answer her questions."
"I would feel bad," Leslie croaked, blinking back fresh tears. "I-I'm really sorry Mrs. Mitchell. I don't know...I don't know what got into me."
"Shhhh.." Jan said, circling the poor teen like a cougar. "We both know what got into you. I remember what is was like being a budding young woman. The hormones. How I would lay awake at night...feeling so hot down there."
"I wasn't.." Leslie blushed. How did this woman know how she felt. Was she really that transparent. Or was - or was the feelings she was feeling completely normal.
"But why go after a married man. A teacher?" Jan asked. "There's plenty of available boys for you. A whole school full of them. Hmmm..but they don't notice you - not in that way do they?"
Leslie shook her head. They liked the pretty girls. The short girls with great bodies and big boobs. The bubbly blond girls. Not long, lanky, gawky, smart girls. They didn't have the time of day for those type of girls. Girls like her.
"But you could be noticed, you know," Jan ran a finger along the slim girl's neck. "You could have your pick. And if those young boys don't interest you, there's always college boys. Why haven't you found - you know - someone to take you under her wing and show you what's what? Surely your sister has shown you a thing or two."
"I - don't have a sister," Leslie said. Nor a mom that cared about how people made fun of her or the fact that she'd never felt more alone than she did right now.
"An aunt?" Jan smiled- knowing each question would only bring another shake of the head from the insecure girl. "A friend of the family perhaps?"
"I don't have anyone," Leslie's eyes filled with moisture. "Not to help me...about stuff like that...not to help me..."
"Fit in?" Jan tilted the girl's head up by her chin. "You poor thing. I feel so bad for you. I'd - well I'd love to help. To take you under my wing. Teach you. No - forget I said anything. It's best for you to find someone else. Perhaps your mom has a friend - or someone you trust in your class."
"There's no one," Leslie was crying openly now. "No one to help me. Please Mrs. Mitchell - I - I'm begging you."
"I really can't," Jan said. "My husband is your teacher. It wouldn't be proper. I'm certain he wouldn't allow it."
"I won't say anything," Leslie said with hopeful eyes. "I promise I won't tell a soul."
Jan felt her loins grow hot. This girl was as good as hers now. However, she had no idea what she was going to do with her.
"Let me get a good look at you," Jan said. "Stand up. Let's see what we have to work with."
Leslie stood. It was uncomfortable standing as Jan looked at her with such critical eyes. However, it was a small price to pay to have someone help her fit in and not be an outsider anymore.
Jan took out her camera and snapped a shot.
"What are you doing?" Leslie asked.
"I want to have before and after shots," Jan said. "To document your transformation from being a little wall flower nobody to being miss popularity."
A wallflower noboby. Even this woman who just met her knew what she was. Leslie's cheeks colored at the ease in which the older woman seemed to know her.
"Now take off your shirt and jeans," Jan said.
"What?" Leslie looked around nervously.
"Nevermind," Jan said dismissively. "You should just go. I told you, find someone you trust to take you under her wing and teach you a thing or two. This is going to be too hard with you balking every time I ask you to do something. God, if Stacy or Megan talked back so much, I would have never been able to work with them."
Leslie was conflicted. On one hand, she didn't want to disrobe in front of a perfect stranger. On the other hand, she had no one else she trusted, not that could help her. The woman clearly knew her business - and she'd even helped teach other girls. Stacy and Megan - whoever they were...besides, these girls even sounded popular. Her fingers began to fumble with her buttons.
"God, you act like you have something I haven't seen before?" Jan said. "I assure you I've seen better."
Leslie blushed. She knew the woman had seen better. Mrs. Mitchell obviously had no idea what it was like to be shy about your body. The woman was well-developed and had every reason to be confident.