Robin Wasserman - Lust

About whether we’re going to do it again .

“What’s there to do about it?” she asked, sounding mystified. “Or to talk about? We did it, and”-she touched his cheek briefly, gently-“it was great. But, you know, it’s done. What do you want from me?”

Adam was stunned. “I just thought we could-well, you’d said-and when we were at the motel-I just thought you wanted-”

Kaia laughed-it was a musical sound, lighter and more spontaneous than anything he’d seen her say or do in the short time they’d known each other. That was the difference, he suddenly realized: This was real-and everything else had all been calculated.

“Oh, Adam,” she said, her voice dripping with a patronizing sympathy. “What? Did you think we were going to date or something? Were you thinking this was going to be a relationship ?” She pronounced the word as if it tasted rotten coming out of her mouth.

Then she laughed again, and Adam finally got it. He may have been slow, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Whatever,” he said brusquely. “I just wanted to be sure that you didn’t get the wrong idea. I’m with Beth, you know. I love her.” The familiar phrase sounded unconvincing, even to him. Especially to him.

“I know you do,” Kaia assured him, grinning brightly now. “So you must be pretty terrified that she’ll find out about this, hmm?” She gave him a cryptic look. “But hey, who would tell her?”

Shit. Adam had never before understood what it would feel like to have one’s heart leap into one’s throat. Now he knew. It felt like your chest was an empty shell about to collapse in on itself. It felt like strong hands had wrapped themselves around your neck, squeezing like a vise, choking the air out of you. He saw it clearly now, every step of her-what, her plan? Seduction. Betrayal. All that, just to get him into bed? Or to make him feel like a fool? Or was the true prize whatever was about to come next, all hell breaking loose when Beth learned the truth? Would anyone really go to so much effort, just to cause themselves a little pleasure-or someone else so much pain?

“Kaia,” he said warningly, “you wouldn’t-”

Who, me? she mimed, the picture of innocence.

“I’m hurt,” she said aloud. “Don’t you know me at all by now?” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and skipped off down the hallway. “You know you can trust me!” she called over her shoulder.

He was so totally screwed.

“So which one do you like better?”

Silence.

“Beth? Beth? You still with me?”

Beth stared at the newspaper layout sheets with the same blank gaze she’d been aiming at the world for days. Ever since she’d caught Adam with Kaia outside the locker room, ever since she’d blown up at him and run away, she’d been a little bit lost. The first couple of days hadn’t been so bad, as she’d been riding a wave of anger that swept away any lingering doubts or concerns. She’d avoided him in the hallways, she’d ditched out on their date-and, while working behind the counter at the diner, she’d pretended the tomatoes and onions were his head, and spent a pleasant hour chopping him to pieces, over and over again.

But after that-well, she was still mad, but she was a little mad at herself, too. She was ready to kiss and make up-but Adam, it seemed, was too busy to take her calls. She’d spent all weekend trying to track him down, stealing a few minutes from her shift to sneak off with a cell phone; bribing her little brothers into shutting up long enough to make a phone call; taking breaks every ten minutes from her stacks of homework to check her phone, see if he’d called. No.

Maybe this was it, she’d decided after a fitful night of sleep. She’d screwed up the best thing she had in her life-though, if he was willing to let go that easily, maybe it wasn’t something worth fighting for after all.

“What?” Beth suddenly realized that Jack Powell, sitting across from her in the newspaper office, was holding up two layout sheets in front of her and waiting for some kind of response. Too bad she had no idea what he had asked. “Oh, sorry-uh, yeah, that looks fine.”

Jack Powell laid the sheets down on the desk and turned in his chair to look at Beth head-on.

“Beth, is everything okay?” he asked with concern. “You’ve been a little out of it all afternoon-if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be…?”

“No!” she cried in alarm. Sitting here with Mr. Powell, she felt almost secure again, almost calm, for the first time in days. Yes, she was still thinking about Adam constantly, working through their fight again and again, trying to see where everything had gone so wrong-but somehow, having Jack there, droning on in his delicious voice about column space or layouts or whatever, made everything seem a little more manageable. Today he was wearing a stylish button-down shirt, with colorful vertical stripes running down its length-it made him look years younger. Good thing he’s not, Beth pointed out to herself, or sitting in this small, dark room with him, facing him across the table, our heads leaning in together, our hands brushing past each other to dig through the piles of papers-it would be a whole different story. One her boyfriend wouldn’t like very much.

Then she remembered she might not have a boyfriend anymore, and the thought hit her with a stinging pain that brought tears to her eyes. She took a few deep breaths and looked away from Mr. Powell for a moment, calming herself down.

“No,” she finally repeated in a steadier voice. ‘There’s really nowhere I’d rather be. I just-I’m just having a little trouble concentrating today. That’s all.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” he said sympathetically. “Here’s a radical idea-want to talk about it?”

Beth cringed. Talk about her love life with a teacher? A teacher she just happened to have an absurdly large crush on? Didn’t seem like the best idea.

“I know it’s weird, since I’m your teacher,” he said, reading her mind. He placed a tentative hand on hers. “But Beth, I’d really like to be your friend, too.”

Maybe it was the warmth in his voice, or the soft pressure of his hand, but something inside of Beth just broke.

“It’s my boyfriend,” she said, choking back the tears. Powell nodded encouragingly. “Things have been weird lately, and we’re fighting all the time, and now he’s not speaking to me and I just-”

She broke off and buried her face in her arms, hiding the humiliating tears.

She felt a gentle hand on her back and, instinctively, tensed up.

“Beth,” he said firmly. “Beth, sit up, look at me-you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

She reluctantly straightened and faced him. He pulled a light blue handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her-even in her dismay, she could appreciate the chivalry. She blew into it noisily, wiped the tears away from her eyes, then sat still, taking some deep breaths and twisting the soft cloth nervously in her hands.

“I think I may have ruined everything,” she murmured, knowing from the look in his eyes that he understood.

Jack Powell shook his head.

“Beth, Beth, Beth, it’s not you, it’s him. I promise you that.”

“How do you know?”

“Difficult as it may be to imagine, I was a teenage boy once. Trust me, we’re all idiots.”

Distraught as she was, Beth managed a small smile.

“No, I’m sure whoever this boy is,” he continued, “whatever the problem is, he’s being an idiot. He’s just a boy. But you, Beth,” he paused, looking her up and down appraisingly. “You’re a woman. A beautiful, intelligent, kindhearted woman .”

Beth flushed furiously, and her eyes darted around the room; she was unsure where to look, what to do, faced with words like that from a man like him.