TOMORROW?
Nikki seethed, watching Mr. B hustle down the hallway. Not her imagination, then. Blowing her off. After all the trouble she took to find those candy hearts.
Not that she regretted that. Quite a number they’d worked on Heather, all right. But they’d only ruffled Mr. B’s feathers. The next gift needed to be something even more special.
More—personal.
Perhaps a return to the color motif she’d introduced with that apple. Red for embarrassment—Heather’s, of course. Caught red-handed—unless he behaved—the threat for Mr. B. And that gave Nikki a totally brilliant idea of what to sneak onto his desk next. Wait a couple of days, let the suspense build. Anticipation heightens torture.
Irresistible. Heather such a perfect target—gullible, weak, dim-witted. And she had it coming. The gall, imagining for one second that Mr. B could possibly be attracted to her! As if. Protective Services let her off too lightly. Her punishment fell to Nikki. Good thing their classmates were no Einsteins, either. An occasional hint that Heather was the anonymous gifter and they glommed onto the drama like a reality TV series.
Quite the bonus that Mr. B came late to class now. A breeze for Nikki to plant stuff on his desk. In her first period study hall, guess who had the job of dropping off the attendance sheet at the office? That came with the privilege of leaving early enough to stop by Mr. B’s empty classroom.
Nikki trotted down the corridor. Skipped! She had a mission now. A very special purchase to make.
TWENTY EIGHT
TO JEREMY’S RELIEF, A couple of days passed without any new gifts on his desk. But this morning, he walked in on a cluster of girls huddled around his desk, giggling.
“Take your seats, please,” he snapped. They scooted off, and he approached his desk. What now? He saw the object of their mirth and his jaw dropped. It might have come fresh from the Victoria’s Secret catalogue.
A lacy, red garter.
“All right, who does this belong to?” Jeremy lifted the garter with two fingers, as if it were radioactive.
Whoops of laughter erupted, along with a loud “Whoo-hoo!” One of the girls called out: “Is that yours, Heather?” Another round of glee ensued.
“No!” Heather shouted, her face red as the garter.
“Quiet!” Jeremy yelled.
Another voice: “Think it fits her?”
“Try it on, Heather!”
“Yeah, try it on.”
“Enough!” Jeremy barked. “This stops right now.” He’d laughed off the other gifts, a regular Mr. Nice Guy, but this had gone too far. Worse, he’d lost his cool, had to get things under control. Always something with Heather. He shouldn’t have accepted her back in his classroom.
Jeremy shoved the garter into his pants pocket. “If someone wants to claim it after class, see me. Otherwise—” He glared at them. “The whole class can expect an exam tomorrow.” His eyes circled the room, seeing their grins dissolve.
The rest of the period passed without incident. As the girls filed out, looking chastened, Jeremy shuffled his papers, avoiding their faces. Let the guilty one come to him. But which one? The last of them left the room, leaving him with little hope of a confession and already regretting his threat. Not his style to punish the whole class for one person’s transgression. Hardly the Marines here, and they were good kids, generally wanting to please him. Now his hold over his favorite class had slipped. What the hell was going on?
He pulled the garter from his pocket and studied it, as if it held an answer. Maybe he should show it to Donnelly, but then what? A lot of questions Jeremy had no answers for, and not likely to get any answers from the principal. None he’d like, for sure. What then, have a crime lab test the garter for DNA samples?
Hell, not even a crime here. Yet Jeremy sure felt like a victim.
“Mr. B?” Nikki stood in the doorway.
The garter still in his hand, Jeremy blushed and thrust it back in his pocket. “Nikki—” She looked the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “It’s not yours, is it?” Bad question. Jeremy forced away an image of Nikki wearing the lacy, red thing.
“You know I wouldn’t do that to you.” She sidled up to his desk.
Bad idea, being alone in the room with her. “I’m sorry, Nikki. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Don’t worry.” Her slender hand settled on Jeremy’s arm, made his pulse race. “I’ll find out.” She grinned. “You know me.” With a wink, Nikki left.
The situation ate at Jeremy. He ruminated, still chewing on it when he came home. He’d tell Donnelly tomorrow. No, only make things worse. Maybe the joke had played itself out. Give it a few more days.
At dinner, his moodiness drew a complaint from Melissa. “You’ve been so distant since you went back to school. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Jeremy pushed a morsel of chicken around his plate.
“Any more trouble with that girl?”
“Not at all,” he lied.
“The baby, then? Is that what’s worrying you?” she pressed.
With a pang of guilt, Jeremy realized he’d barely thought about the baby for days. “Nothing’s worrying me,” he repeated. “Why, are you worried about it?”
“Well, the PP13 thing, yeah,” Melissa said.
Jeremy frowned. “The pee pee…?” He caught his mistake as soon as she scowled at him. “Oh, the protein. No point in worrying about it, Mel. We just have to wait until they do the next test.”
“Thanks for the brilliant advice.”
The meal continued in silence.
He kept his distance from Melissa afterwards, working on lesson plans at his laptop, accomplishing little. When Melissa announced she was going to bed, he considered working on his poem. Then his cellphone bleeped—a text from Nikki.
Got the 411. See you tomorrow. Park @ 4?
He’d promised not to meet her outside of school. But if Nikki knew something… He texted his assent.
More optimistic now, Jeremy headed for the bedroom, pulling off his sweater as he went. He tossed it onto the chair opposite the bed, where it landed on top of a pile of Melissa’s clothes.
Propped against the pillows, Melissa looked up from her Kindle. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Jeremy emptied his pockets, putting coins and keys on the dresser. When he pulled out his wallet, something lacy and red fluttered to the floor.
Melissa sat up. “What’s that?”
“Huh?” Jeremy followed her gaze to the floor. The garter lay at his feet. He knelt to retrieve it, but Melissa leapt out of bed and reached for the garter. He snatched it up before she got hold of it.
“Jeremy! What is that?” She grabbed, snagging one end of the garter. It stretched taut between them as he pulled it away. “Give me that!” Melissa demanded.
He released his hold and the garter snapped into Melissa’s grasp.
TWENTY NINE
JEREMY STARED AT THE red garter dangling from Melissa’s finger.
“What are you doing with this?” she demanded.
For an awful, deer-in-the-headlights moment, he drew a blank. If he told her about the stuff going on in his class, she’d get back on his case about suing Heather, standing up to Donnelly, or god knew what else. “It’s—it’s for you,” he stammered, improvising.
Melissa’s dark eyes bored into him. “Don’t treat me like an idiot.” She twirled the garter around her finger. “What’s the deal here, Jeremy?”
“The deal?” He arched an eyebrow, had an idea. He edged closer to her. “I’ll show you the deal.”
“Jeremy!” Caught off guard, Melissa backed away.
He pulled the garter off her finger and slipped it onto his wrist. Taking hold of Melissa’s shoulders, he steered her backwards toward the bed.
“Jeremy? What the fuck—?” Her eyes widened.
He swiveled, pulling her down on top of him on the bed. “I want to see it on you,” he said huskily.
“That’s such bullshit,” she
protested.
He kissed her before she said anymore and rolled her onto her back. He pulled up the oversized tee shirt Melissa wore to bed, exposing her torso. His fingers crept up under the shirt and caressed her swollen nipples.
“Oh my god. Jeremy.” Her back arched with pleasure.
He kissed a slow path across Melissa’s rounding belly. He’d get away with this. Her breaths were coming rapidly now and Jeremy yanked her panties down to her knees, then pulled them off, tossing them to the floor. He slipped the garter off his wrist.
“I knew red would be good on you.” He slid the garter over her ankle and inched it up her calf, over her knee, securing it midway up Melissa’s thigh. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, that’s good.”
Lying back on the bed, Melissa craned her neck for a look. Jeremy eased her legs apart and lowered his face to her crotch.
“You bastard.” Her head sank back onto the pillow.
It worked out even better than he’d hoped.
BY THE TIME MELISSA dragged herself out of bed the next morning, Jeremy had gone. A bout of queasiness—mixed morning sickness and dread—gripped her as she bent to retrieve the red garter from the floor beside the bed. The sex had been surprisingly good—grumpy and distant as Jeremy had been of late. But she didn’t buy the seduction routine he’d pulled. Since when was Jeremy the type to buy her lingerie?
She opened a dresser drawer and tossed the garter inside, then went to the kitchen. Something going on with him. Melissa heated a kettle of water for her tea. Maybe more to the whole business with that girl than he’d admitted?
The kettle whistled and Melissa’s cellphone rang. She picked up the phone and held it against her ear while she poured hot water over the tea bag in her cup.
“Hi, Mom.”
“How are you, darling? Any updates on your condition?”
“I’m good,” Melissa said. “No new developments. I see the doctor again next week.” She carried her tea into the living room. Finding the coffee table in its usual state, she balanced the cup on a stack of books.
Beth Milton touted the latest properties she’d found for Melissa and Jeremy. “Why don’t you come and look at them this afternoon?” she urged. “You don’t want to wait until you’re too far along to handle the move, do you?”
These days, Melissa found it hard enough to move herself, much less a household, thanks to relentless morning sickness. “Mom? I think we should hold off on the house-hunting.”
“But, darling—”
“I mean, if you think about it—” Melissa stifled a burp. “It’ll be easier to care for a baby in the apartment. We won’t need the extra space for at least the first year.”
“But the market, Melissa! Prices will only go up.”
“Besides, Mom, I’ve got enough on my hands keeping this place clean, let alone a house.” Melissa surveyed the disarray. True enough.
“It’s Jeremy, isn’t it?” Her mother’s tone soured. “He’s giving you a hard time about buying a house, right?”
No, Melissa thought, not since she’d stopped raising the subject. “It’s both of us, Mom. We think it would be better to wait.”
Her mother sighed. “I hate seeing you live like that, dear. Especially since you don’t have to.”
“I know, Mom.” Melissa kneaded the furrow between her eyebrows and fought down her rising gorge. “Honestly, I’m fine. Call you later.” She made a kissy sound into the phone and hung up before her mother pressed her any further.
But she wasn’t fine. Instead of bringing them closer, her pregnancy had widened the chasm between Jeremy and her. She took a sip of her tea, already growing cold, wishing she knew what was really going on.
THIRTY
JEREMY ARRIVED AT THE park shortly before four. No sign of Nikki, so he sat on the bench to wait. After a few minutes nervous energy drove him to his feet and he paced back and forth like an expectant father—which, in fact, he was. Melissa deserved better of him. What a shit, being here, after her passionate response to his seduction last night. How long since he’d initiated anything like that?
The ten minutes he waited for Nikki dragged by like an hour. At last she appeared, a little breathless, in a rush. Despite his misgivings, Jeremy’s throat caught at the sight of her. Her cheeks shone against porcelain skin, her dark hair and blue eyes glowed in the afternoon sunlight. How had he stayed away from her?
“I missed you,” Nikki said. “I was afraid you’d stopped liking me.”
“Never,” Jeremy whispered. So lovely. A yearning arose within him, a drunk handed a shot of golden whiskey after a vain attempt at sobriety.
An approaching voice jolted Jeremy back to his senses—a woman, talking on a cellphone. “We’d better not stay out here,” he told Nikki. “Come on. My car’s over there.”
She followed him to the Honda.
“I can’t stay long.” Nikki closed the passenger door. “I promised my mother I’d do the laundry and clean the bathrooms before she gets home.”
Both? When she had homework? Jeremy held his tongue. Much as he wanted to be her protector, he had another agenda today. Nikki’s text last night said she’d learned something about the anonymous gifts. He glanced out the window at the deserted street. Might be safe to talk there in his car.
“What did you find out?” he asked.
“Well…” Nikki fidgeted with a lock of shiny black hair. “I didn’t want to be too obvious, you know? Asking a lot of questions?”
“Uh huh.” He peered out the window again. “But…?”
“I heard two of the girls talking. One said she saw Heather leave the stuff on your desk.”
“Who?” Jeremy pressed. “Which girl?”
Nikki looked away. “Please, do I have to say? I hate to rat on other people.”
“Sure, I understand.” Jeremy bit down his frustration. “What else did you hear?”
She hesitated. “The other one saw Heather drawing stuff in her notebook during math class.”
“Stuff?”
Jeremy grimaced. “Like what?”
Nikki shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. They walked away. I didn’t want to follow them.”
Jeremy swallowed his disappointment. He’d already pushed too much. “No, of course not.”
Nikki leaned back in the passenger seat. “I’m kind of worried about her, Mr. B.”
“So am I.” He had more to worry about. Heather sounded pretty wacko. What might she pull next?
“They made her see a shrink,” Nikki added.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Jeremy hesitated. “Nikki, has Heather talked to you about any of this?”
“Not really.” Her gaze dropped to the floor.
A prickle of apprehension ran down Jeremy’s neck. “Nikki? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“I—no, I’ve told you everything I know, Mr. B.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, skittered away. She reached for the door handle. “I’d better go.”
“Wait!” Jeremy reached for her arm, but she was already getting out of the car. Now he’d done it—injured this sweet, innocent girl. He leapt out the driver’s side door and caught up with her. “Nikki, wait! Don’t go.” Abandoning his earlier caution, he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
Nikki flung her arms around his waist. Her lips were warm against his, and Jeremy didn’t pull away. When he finally let her go, he caught a glimpse of a beige Camry down the street, driving away.
THIRTY ONE
NIKKI CAST A DISDAINFUL glance at the pile of dirty laundry on her bedroom floor. Tough shit. Let it wait. Coming home from the rendezvous with Mr. B, she’d hatched a brilliant plan. One that would convince him of Heather’s guilt.
To set things in motion, she phoned Heather. And right away, hit a snag.
&nb
sp; “What do you mean, you’re not going on the DC trip?” Nikki demanded. “You absolutely can’t skip that, Heather. It’s, like, a tradition. It’ll be awesome.”
The spring class trip to the Capitol—a chance to sightsee, smell cherry blossoms, and sneak alcohol and drugs into the hotel. What sane kid would pass up the opportunity? Only Heather, which said a lot about her mental health.
“What’s the deal? Your mom making you stay home?” Nikki goaded her.
“Nuh uh.” Heather mumbled. “I’m just not that into it.”
“Oh, come on,” Nikki urged. “It’s gonna be way cool. I thought we’d share a hotel room.” Like she’d be caught dead rooming with Heather.
“I don’t know.”
Nikki heard the hesitation. Determined, she pushed on. “Look, girlfriend.” She mimed sticking two fingers down her throat when she called Heather that. “I get it that things haven’t been so great lately. All that shit on Facebook and everything.” In fact, Nikki counted that particular shit as a major public relations coup on her part.
“Yeah.” Heather sounded like a whipped puppy.
“Think about it for a minute. Here’s your chance to get back into the groove. You know? And if you stay away? It’ll only make things worse.”
“Well…”
“I bet your shrink would tell you that, right?” Nikki coaxed.
“All right,” Heather relented. “I’ll think about it.”
“No! Don’t think. Go for it,” Nikki pressed. “The sign-up sheet will be posted at school tomorrow. Don’t wait, or all the slots will be taken. We have to go sign up first thing in the morning. Meet you at eight thirty. Okay? Heather?”
“I guess so. Yeah.”
“Way to go!” Nikki crowed. “You and me in DC. Let’s be the first to sign that sheet.” She hung up, hoisted her cellphone in triumph and snapped a grinning selfie. Portrait of the girl genius. Too perfect.
It proved easy as stealing coins from her dumb little brother’s piggy bank.
Nikki and Heather got to the DC sign-up sheet on the bulletin board early enough that only two other girls beat them to it. They printed their names and added their signatures next to them, exchanged high fives, and headed off to class. Halfway there, Nikki “remembered” she’d left a book she needed in her locker and dashed back down the hall, telling Heather to go ahead without her. No point in both of them being late, right?