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that youd hold it against me for telling you. I know you dont want to sleep with me anyway, but I couldnt bare the thought of your hating me. Selfish, selfish, selfish! Im really, really, sorry!" I wasnt sure what I was apologizing for, but I was sincere as I could be, and at least, she seemed to know it. "I realize now that I was just being a selfish little bitch, and I am so sorry, Candice!"
"Youre being honest, Kathy. And right now, that means more to me than you can guess." I looked up at her, but she was looking out the window. She went on, "Im going away for a few days. Ive arranged for a substitute until I get back. Well talk again." My momma didnt raise no dummies; I was being dismissed again. I rose slowly and opened the door. She didnt say another word. Didnt turn around. I left. And for the next few days, Sheila caught holy hell and loved every minute of it. Poor Sheila or lucky Sheila, however one wishes to look at it. She only wanted to be normal, but only abnormal people want to be normal. Normal people want to be abnormal. The sun crosses the sky, night comes, winds blow, cows shit where they stand and then step in it, and all people are fucked up to one degree or another. Thats reality!
She was back in the middle of the next week, looking her normal, irresistibly gorgeous, ice-goddess self. At the end of class, she said, "Ms. Patterson, could you come to my office?" A few people shot me sympathetic glances, figuring that I was in trouble. I figured they were right. Not only Id been the one to tell her about Mary Cantrell, but also she was probably mad at me for not telling her sooner. I was damned any way you looked at it. I climbed the stairs to her office slowly, giving her time to get there first. I knew how hanged men felt, marching to the gallows.
I sat down, and she spoke, "Maybe youd better lock the door."
Was she going to murder me, or what? I got up and locked the door. "Kathy, I was a virgin when I got married. Do you understand that?" I guess my dimwitted facial expression was answer enough, "No? Well, let me put it this way then; Although, Im nearly ten years older than you, Im not a woman of experience." Im sure my face was still as blank as my brain. Surely this was not how a murderer proceeded, but then how could we know? The victims are always too dead to testify.
She sighed, took her glasses off and leaned back in her chair, "I dont know how to do this, Kathy! Would you help me?"
"Candice," I said slowly, "I know that you have to put your life back together and go on. Ill help any way that I can." I must have said the right thing,
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because she looked relieved and even smiled.
"Any way that you can?" she asked me softly, "Then you can call me Candy from now on! Um, just when its the two of us, of course." Duh! Slowly, it sank in as I remembered the condition for calling her Candy. I scrambled around the desk and sank to my knees at her feet.
"Candy," I said, tasting the sound of it as she took my head in her hands like she had done before. "Kathy," she answered as her lips molded around mine. As our tongues touched, my hand slipped up her skirt and found bare flesh halfway up her thigh. It was stockings, not pantyhose! At least that was what she was wearing today! The thrill of it made me pause and savor the moment while her tongue massaged mine. God! She was a sexy kisser! My hand inched further up her leg and my fingertips lightly stroked the smooth surface of her panties and I could feel her pubic hair and her slit through the nylon. Instantly, she stopped kissing me with a little gasp. Her thighs tightened on my arm, and she drew away from me.
"Oh, Kathy!" she gasped, terror in her voice, "Im so sorry; I really cant believe I did this..." Tears welled in her eyes as she saw herself as a pervert seducing a child. I could read her like a book now that I was back on my feet, um, as it were. But what do I do about what I was reading?
I got up and held her head against my tummy while she cried, and I made soothing noises. This wasnt going well! I decided that the only thing that would save me now was harshness, "Thats okay," I crooned, "Make me feel like a stupid, awkward teenager again. Its okay; hurt me as much as you feel the need. I understand. Bob hurt you by being a faithless asshole, and I have only been a silly girl who wants to enjoy sex with you. Its only right that you ask me up here, then act like I wasnt woman enough to even distract you in your grief." My tone was still comforting, but the words were having an effect. She stopped crying.
"Oh no, Kathy," she gasped, "Its not like that!" Then she gave me a suspicious squint. Apparently my manipulations were too obvious. Ha, obvious! I only wanted her to stop crying and it had worked like a charm!
"Of course it is," I said softly, "You pretended that you wanted some honest sex, and then as soon as you get me stirred up, you snatch it away from me. Only, you should understand something. Youre not hurting Bob; youre hurting someone who really cares about you, and youre hurting yourself. Okay, I dont know you well enough to claim I really love you. But I feel like I do, and that hardly qualifies me for a put down on my sexuality. So, I
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