The Prophesied Claim

The Full Minute

Smith's staying a "minute" turned into the entire prep period. By the time the final bell rang, I was ready to bolt from the room. My entire face felt numb from smiling so hard, and my body was tense from what could only be termed angry arousal. Super sensitive from the earlier play, and completely pissed about it after realizing Alec's entire attention was a charade to get me out of his system. This situation. This very specific type of situation was the reason I'd decided years ago that men were not worth the trouble. Here I am, giving the very thing you'd think a man wanted, sudden s*x, the enactment of an erotic fantasy, and I'm told I'd probably be disliked pretty quickly if they actually knew me. AND, then I fall for their wicked charm. Immediately. I didn't even protest or try to be the seductive siren. Nope. Just full-on damp panties (if there'd been panties).

I ran for the hallway under the pretense of monitoring recalcitrant middle schoolers at the freedom bell. Excuse. Absolutely. Necessary. Same. Listening to Smith lord his masculinity and supposed ability to part the Red Sea for a single second longer was likely to make me scream. Watching Alec mindlessly ruffle his hair and talk about ways to make the school safer, that was equally as frustrating.

Standing in the hallway supposedly deters students from misbehaving. "Proximity" is the claim I've heard made as to the magical power standing in the hallway has on student behavior. I've never seen this actually work. It's always seemed those who plan to do something bad do so anyway, and those who don't want to be seen simply find a more private area to perform their badness. So, I stand outside my classroom door wishing students a good afternoon, sighing with relief as Principal Smith finally leaves my room with an absent wave in my general direction.

An argument breaks out a few lockers down over whether a girl's jacket is actually the real name brand or a knock-off she bought online. I make my way over, gladly, thinking to avoid any conversation with Alec as he leaves my room. My general plan is to make a clean break, as I'd proposed earlier in the day. I'll just pretend we've never met. Maybe if I tell myself it's true I'll even start to believe it. Maybe I could be a great barista. I could disappear into some random coffee shop. Maybe get dreads and a neck tattoo.

I sigh. I hate needles.

Having mediated the jacket argument, and helped a sixth grader remember where to go for bus pick-up, the hallways have cleared and I can finally leave. I'd like to feel relief when I see my classroom is empty, but I just feel tired. A bit beaten up, a little frazzled, and oddly sticky and sweaty. I've never been a very emotional person, and the gamut of emotions I keep flipping around with feel like being sucked into a whirlpool. Or playing a terrible game of tetherball. I just need a minute to catch my breath.

I'm nearly to my car when I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Suspicious, I walk faster preparing to leap into my car and make a speedy getaway. My hand's on the door handle when a much bigger one catches my wrist, for like the millionth time that day. Though I've just declared myself immune to him, the touch of his skin lights my nerves up like the Fourth of July. Dammit.

Preparing my plastic smile, I turn to face him, trying to extricate my arm from his fingers in the process. He doesn't release my arm, nor does he appear to be in the best mood. Too bad the annoyed look on his face does nothing to detract from his attraction, rather it gives him a sharper edge and makes my heart pound a bit faster. Another reason to get my wrist out of his grip.

"Did you forget something? Did we need to set another meeting for this week? More training, perhaps?" I question pretending only mild interest as I dig through my purse for my car keys.

"Drop the smile, Sirena." He demands gruffly, using his other hand to tip my chin so our eyes meet. "That particular expression might work on Smith, but the dimbo look isn't gonna work on me."

I feel my teeth grind together, and might sound a little snarly as I finally locate the keys and jam them in the door, "I was just giving you exactly what you wanted. Me. Being me. You know, letting you get to "know" me so you'd get over whatever the f**k your problem is." Attempting to yank the door open only serves to result in knocking myself in the shin, nearly taking my feet out from under me.

"Really? Is that what you were doing earlier?"

Alec's face looks a bit like an explosion is imminent, but I'm past caring what he thinks, and don't particularly care if he is carrying a gun. In fact, I consider shooting him with it and saving us both a lot of trouble. Instead, I stop yanking on the door, and poke him in the sternum. Hard. Well, hard enough to rock me back on my heels like a teeter totter.

"No. That's what YOU were doing. Now, get out of my way. I have a date!"

He finally releases my hand and crosses both arms over his ridiculous chest, "Pretty sure we should talk before you go roaring off. Maybe explain what the f**k you're talking about. Let's focus on the date part."

Hands free, I dive into my car, and lock the door. I'm not sure if he tries to stop me, but the dumbfounded expression on his face as I gun the motor of the little compact is quite satisfying. f**k you, Alec, I think. But, when I glance in the rearview mirror he's crouching down to pick something blue and lacy off the ground. He grins before stuffing it into his pocket. I nearly floor the brake, as I dive back into my open purse. But, they aren't there. They must've gotten flung out in my mad search for my car keys. I bang my head on the back of the seat.

He has my panties.