Robin Wasserman - Lust

“Have I told you how great you look tonight?” Kaia asked sweetly.

“Thanks. Can you just tell me what was so important?” The DJ had just started a slow song. “Take My Breath Away”-a little cheesy, maybe, but one of Beth’s favorites. She wanted to be swaying back and forth to the melody, eyes closed, head on Adam’s shoulder. Not here.

“What? Oh, that was nothing. I mean, I thought you might want to know that Adam-” Kaia cut herself off with a sigh. “Oh… Check out Mr. Powell-doesn’t he look hot tonight in his tux?”

“What about Adam?” Beth persisted. The last thing she wanted to think about was Jack Powell, or how good he looked in his tux. Which, despite her best efforts, she’d already noticed.

“Oh, we can finish this later. Maybe you want to go talk to Mr. Powell?” Kaia asked innocently. “I won’t mind-I know how close you two are.”

For the moment Beth forgot about Adam and whatever secret was about to be revealed and studied Kaia closely. Did she-could she possibly-know?

“We’re not close,” she said coolly, deciding, or at least desperately hoping, that Kaia didn’t know what she was saying. “And if you ask me, he’s not a very good teacher. Working with him on the newspaper sucks.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Kaia said with a sly grin.

“What are you talking about?” Beth asked in a hushed voice. All her breath had slipped away.

But before Kaia could answer, Kane snuck up behind her and grabbed her waist, twirling her around. A moment later, Beth felt Adam’s strong hands around her as he lifted her off the ground and swung her into his arms. She hoped he couldn’t feel her trembling.

“So what’s going on over here?” Kane asked, once the girls had stopped squealing.

“Trust me,” Kaia said, looking directly at Adam. “You don’t want to know.”

Lucky break that Powell was chaperoning the dance.

Luckier still that he was standing amidst a small circle of other teachers. Kaia knew that no self-respecting chaperone could turn down an innocent request to dance with one of his students-at least, not without having a lot of explaining to do.

Kaia excused herself and strode over to the cluster of teachers. Powell, seeing her approach, was already preparing his getaway.

“Mr. Powell!” she exclaimed. “You look so handsome in your tuxedo! Think you could spare me a dance?”

He glared at her, then smiled for the sake of the group. “Oh, Kaia, I’m not much of a dancer-you know, two left feet and all.”

“Go for it, Jack,” urged Mr. Holcomb, from the English department.

“Yes,’cut a rug,’” the librarian added.

The group began to laugh as Kaia led a reluctant Mr. Powell onto the floor. She knew what they were thinking: How adorable, a little crush . Well, let them think what they wanted-she knew what she was doing.

Kaia looped her arms around his neck and his hands found a spot on her waist-he held her rigidly, carefully keeping a half foot of space between them.

“Did I not make myself clear before, Ms. Sellers?” The amiable facade was gone. Good. “You and me? It’s never going to happen. And certainly not in the middle of a crowded dance floor with the whole school looking on.”

“Oh, I know, Mr. Powell,” she said, lowering her eyes and giving him an exaggeratedly chastened look. “After all, it’s your policy not to mix business with pleasure, right?”

“I don’t consort with students, yes, if that’s what you mean,” he said stiffly.

“And I don’t consort with liars ,” Kaia hissed.

He stopped dancing and pushed her away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” But some of the steely certainty had faded from his voice.

She put her arms around him again.

“Better keep dancing, and keep smiling, Mr. Powell-you don’t want your friends over there thinking we’re having a lovers’ spat.” She gave a friendly wave to the group of teachers smiling and cheering them on from the sidelines.

“I’ll ask you again, what are you talking about?” he repeated, smiling through gritted teeth.

“I’m talking about your nonexistent policy, Mr. Powell. I’m talking about your loose relationship with the truth and your looser one with the rules.” She moved in closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m talking about you and Beth-I saw you.”

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean,” Powell protested. His face had gone white. “There was nothing to see.”

“Right,” Kaia said sarcastically. “I hope that’s not the poker face you’re planning to use when you talk to the principal, or the school board, or hey, the police-”

His fingers tightened on her waist.

“That’s right, the police,” Kaia said. “Small town like this, full of all those family values, I imagine they don’t look too kindly on this sort of thing. Teacher preying on innocent students. We’re just children, really…”

“You don’t want to screw with me, Kaia,” he warned her in a low, ominous voice.

“Not anymore,” she said lightly, shaking her head. “No, you chose someone else for that-and I can live with it. I just hope that you can.”

And, waving again in the direction of Powell’s fellow teachers, she squeezed in close to Jack Powell and slammed her lips to his, jamming her tongue into his mouth before he knew what was happening, and then, with a less than gentle nibble on his lip, she pushed him away.

“See you around, Mr. Powell-you can count on it.”

Beth, Adam, Miranda, and Harper witnessed the scene from the sidelines with a mixture of shock, awe, and horror (in different proportions, depending on the witness).

“That girl is unbelievable,” Harper gasped. “What the hell is she thinking?”

“Unbelievable is right,” Adam repeated, sounding almost impressed. Beth looked at him sharply, and his eyes shot down to the ground, avoiding her gaze. In his pocket, his hand tightened around the now empty flask.

“Bet you wish you had the nerve to do that, Beth,” Miranda laughed. “I know I do.”

Beth stammered and blushed and mumbled something about nothing, and finally Harper cut in.

“Oh, please, Beth’s not that pathetic, and neither are you, Miranda. She practically jumped down his throat-it was embarrassing to watch! What was that you were saying about her being so sad and misunderstood, Adam?”

Now it was Adam’s turn to stammer nonsensically.

“It’s really, uh, none of our business,” he finally said, turning away from the dance floor, where Mr. Powell was still standing alone and motionless, only barely visible through the swirling wall of dancers.

“You’re totally right,” Beth added with relief. “Let’s just dance.”

“Definitely.” He clasped her by the hand and led her quickly onto the dance floor, leaving Harper and Miranda behind in disbelief.

“None of our business?” Miranda asked. “Since when does that stop us? Is this a new policy I wasn’t told about?”

“I guess we both missed the memo,” Harper said in disgust. “Look at them.” She gestured weakly toward Beth and Adam, who were slowly swaying in each other’s arms, despite the fast-paced rock song blaring through the speakers. “He can’t keep his hands off her for a minute.”

“This dance sucks,” Miranda said.

“Tell me about it.”

They stood together at the edge of the action, watching dozens of couples swirling around the floor. That was the problem with scoping for hot guys at school formals. The inspirational girl-power-themed episodes of bad TV shows notwithstanding, the fact was that all the normal guys showed up to these things with dates. So unless you were ready to break up a matched pair and leave some unfortunate girl drying the tearstains on her dress under the bathroom hand blower (not that Harper hadn’t left her share of those in her wake), you were shit out of luck. No, instead you were stuck with prizes like Lester Lawrence, decked out in a sky blue tux and ruffled Hawaiian shirt, and his gang of losers. Miranda was sure any one of them would be happy to dance with her. Great.