1
“Gail, you’re not going to believe
this!”
Gail looked up from the table in the
teacher’s lounge where she was eating lunch and smiled at Sherry, but she
didn’t react. Everything was drama to
Sherry, and whatever news she was so urgently delivering would likely not
change Gail’s life—or even her afternoon.
“What won’t I believe?”
Sherry dropped into a chair across
from her and leaned eagerly across the table.
“They hired a new gym teacher!” she
hissed.
Gail nodded slowly. As she’d suspected, the news wasn’t earth
shattering thus far. When Greg Vales,
the 60-something physical education teacher who had been at the school for
nearly forty years, had retired unexpectedly after a stroke, she’d assumed that
he’d be replaced.
“And?” Gail asked.
“He’s going to coach soccer,
too.” Sherry tried to drag out the
suspense, but Gail wasn’t on the edge of her seat. She wasn’t a big follower of school sports.
“I like soccer players,” she conceded.
“Yes, I know.” Sherry giggled wickedly. “I think you’ll especially like this one.”
Mildly curious, Gail asked, “Have you
seen him?”
Sherry’s giggle turned to a cackle,
and the handful of other teachers in the room looked in her direction.
“Not in a long time,” Sherry
whispered.
“So you know him?” Gail prompted
gently.
“Not as well as you do!” Sherry
crowed.
Gail’s eyes widened slightly, but she
reminded herself of Sherry’s tendency to blow things out of proportion.
Her friend noticed the subtle change
in her expression, though, and pounced triumphantly. “Yeah, you know, don’t you?”
“No,” Gail said shortly. “How could I know?” But she did know, or thought she did. Once upon a time, Gail had liked a particular
soccer player quite a lot. More,
perhaps, than she’d liked any other boy in high school. She didn’t dare think
further, simply forced her mind to be still until Sherry spoke again.
“Scott Sanders.” She giggled again. “And I hope you can maintain some decorum.”
Finally, Sherry’s schoolgirl giddiness
infected Gail—or at least, that’s what she told herself it was—and she leaned
forward and whispered, “So then you don’t think I should make out with him in
the locker room?”
“Honey,” Sherry said in a low voice,
“I think you should nail him in the locker room. But not while there are kids here,
please. You might set a bad example.”
Despite herself, Gail enjoyed a quick
vision of “nailing” Scott Sanders in the locker room. It wasn’t much of a stretch, since she’d
spent some time in there with him as a teenager. Of course, it hadn’t gone as far as Sherry
was suggesting now. She’d been a nice
girl. Most of the time. Scott
Sanders had led her places she wouldn’t have expected to go, in more ways than
one.
“Gail,” Sherry said rather
loudly.
Gail looked at her questioningly.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,
have you?” her friend asked.
Gail bit her lip and looked away, not
quite laughing. “I didn’t even know you
were talking,” she admitted.
Sherry laughed out loud. “I knew you’d be like this,” she
said. “I can’t wait until he comes
walking into the room.”
“I can wait,” Gail said honestly. Her nerves were jangled merely at the memory
of Scott, at her own reaction to the mention of his arrival. She hadn’t been able to maintain her decorum
alone at the lunch table with Sherry.
How would she react when he suddenly appeared in front of her?
“This is dumb, right?” she asked her
friend.
“Dumb?” Sherry smiled. “Do you mean it’s dumb that they’re hiring
Scott Sanders, or dumb that at almost thirty you can’t handle the idea of
seeing him again, or dumb that you almost passed out when I suggested nailing
him in the locker room?”
“Um, yeah. I mean, not that they hired him.”
“So let’s see,” Sherry said, clearly
enjoying herself. “Do I think it’s dumb
that you’re nervous about seeing the man who drove you so insane in high school
that you were willing to break the rules for possibly the only time in your
life?”
She appeared to consider.
“Do I think it’s dumb that you’re
already fantasizing about a guy you haven’t seen in a decade, just because you
were more attracted to him than you’ve ever been to another man, so much so
that you were consistently willing to throw caution—and your better judgment—to
the wind?”
The blush Gail felt creeping up her
cheeks was as reminiscent of high school as the memories playing through her
mind. As much as she would have liked to
object, Sherry’s summary was pretty much right on target.
“Hell, no,” Sherry said. “I’ll bet you’re terrified. And you have good reason to be.”
Gail shook her head. “I’m sure I don’t, Sherry. I’m sure that things have changed a lot in
ten years. I’m sure Scott has
changed a lot in ten years.”
Sherry grinned. “You’re thinking he’ll be less attractive?”
“I’m thinking he’ll be less provocative,”
Gail said firmly. And, of course, she
was far less likely to be provoked. She
was an adult now, not an innocent schoolgirl dazzled by her first exposure to
real sex appeal. Even if he were exactly
as he’d been in high school, her reactions would certainly be different. Her tolerance, for instance, for his passing
relationships with multiple women would be much reduced. Surely his lighthearted charm would seem more
superficial and far less compelling at this age. And his ability to override
her reason with suggestions about dark hallways and unlocked closets would have
vanished. She giggled.
“I wouldn’t cut class for him
anymore,” she said to Sherry.
She’d said it lightly, intended it to
be a joke, but Sherry said, “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
And Gail told herself no, that it did
not remain to be seen. She got up and
started cleaning up the table, assuring herself that those days were long gone
and that her common sense and sense of responsibility were stronger than her
libido today, even if they hadn’t been in her high school days. She told herself, too, that Scott Sanders
would be subdued, somehow faded. That he
would no longer radiate such sexual energy that it touched her from across the
room. It seemed impossible that he could
have continued to do so for so many years, seemed as if it must be a finite
supply that would be long gone by now.
Almost certainly, she would be disappointed when she saw him and
recognized that the magical spark he’d carried as a boy had long since
departed.
But even as she told herself those
things, even as she promised herself that Sherry was wrong, that Scott’s sway
over her sensibilities was long since past, she remembered the intoxicating
thrill of his presence—something she hadn’t felt since high school. Even as she reassured herself that such a
thing could not happen today, she longed for that swept-away passion she was
suddenly remembering so clearly.
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