The Final Lesson Plan

by Bright, Deena

  "Just don't answer any questions unless I give you the okay," he explained, looking at his notes. "If they're on a witch hunt, then they can twist anything around." His words made my stomach lurch; I hoped I could get through this without having to run to the bathroom.

  Gavin, Jasper, and I started to walk in, when my union representative, Tim Reinbrecht, pulled in. We waited for him; he was a good teacher, who hated the administration, the parents, politicians, and basically the general public. The only people he tolerated and actually liked were other teachers and his students. His students adored him and looked up to him. Being in this mess, he was a bittersweet ally to have on my side. He was loud, crass, hysterical, and basically loathed by the administration, which he prided himself on. Contrastingly though, when it came to a protecting a teacher or standing up for his students, he was a superhero, never backing down. I was afraid they hated him too much to side with him, but I was also afraid to not have him in my corner.

  "Janelle Flowers, teacher extraordinaire, I never thought I'd be here for you," he said, hugging me quickly. Despite his rugged and volatile demeanor, he was a teddy bear of a man, snuggly and warm. Thankfully, he could be vicious when necessary. "So, you're schlepping some students, eh?" He laughed, shaking his head, "How fucking stupid are these people? Just look at ya, hot as fuck, no 17-year-old could please a woman like—"

  Cutting him off, angrily, "I'm Janelle's brother, Japser, this is her attorney Gavin Greenwick," he said, offering his hand with a scornful look on his face. Despite our similar upbringing, Jasper got rich and turned to the other side. He was no longer an advocate of unions or anything unions represented. I was impressed he even offered his hand. In Jasper's eyes, Tim represented everything that was wrong with modern society.

  Chuckling, Tim shook Jasper's hand, and said, "You came armed, unnecessary, but fuck it, alright let's do this."

  "Tim" I said, "Whattya mean, unnecessary?"

  "Hell," he said, "they can't do anything to you. They've no proof; it's all shit-talk." He motioned me toward the door, "Unless you made a video sucking off the lacrosse team; I think you're good." I turned five shades of crimson, shaking my head in embarrassment. I heard Jasper groan. He never could handle hearing me talk or refer to anything sexual in nature. He'd forever be my protective older brother.

  Gavin and Tim explained that since there was no actual evidence that I was pretty safe; it was a matter of "he said, she said." Tim said that I'd probably have to write my version of the situation involving Marcus, explaining just how this mess snowballed. Under no circumstances, Tim decided and Gavin agreed, was I to tell the administration about my summer flings with Briggs and Leo. They were former students, but were consenting adults. My affairs with them were of no concern or relevance to this situation. However, if they knew about Briggs and Leo, then I was not to lie, but not offer up any other information either. I didn't quite understand how Leo and Briggs weren't pertinent to the case. Yes, I'd been sleeping with them, but not when they were kids. I felt that omitting that information would be lying, making me appear guilty if it ever came out.

  Pausing before opening the door, Tim, my union rep, said, "You're a great teacher, beloved, you've done nothing wrong."

  "I just have one question first," I said. Everyone turned to me, awaiting my inquiry. "Jasper, do you have gel in your hair?" Again, he rolled his eyes at me and walked into the building. I heard the Professor and Tim snicker at my incredible ability to embarrass my brother—even in extreme situations.

  "That's it?" Char asked incredulously. "You're not getting fired?" Char and I met at a local bar after she showed some potential buyers a house they couldn't and wouldn't ever buy. She hated those clients and always needed a drink (or five, but who's counting?) after dealing with them.

  "Yep, that's it." I explained.

  I was so relieved that I didn't have to lie or omit anything either. My principal knew everything about Leo and Briggs; she was completely informed and totally annoyed with the people who blew this out of proportion, interrupting her summer months. She did say that by law she'd have to look into matters, and speak one-on-one with Vince and Marcus. I gave her their cell phone numbers and addresses. At one point, my superintendent rolled his eyes, said that he didn't have time for such absurd matters, and walked out. I got the vibe that my principal and the superintendent didn't always see eye-to-eye on certain issues. She was more annoyed with him than either of them was with me. I couldn't believe it; I was in the clear.

  "I can't believe your school is letting you fuck…do…I mean do your students," Char squealed. "I'm going back to school to be a teacher for sure. I'd drop my panties for a few of those high school guys any day."

  "You're fucking unbelievable, Char," I said, sipping my margarita. "They're not letting me have sex with students, you asshole." Char loved when I called her, and other girls, assholes. It always made her laugh.

  "Sucks. Damn educational system takes the fun out of everything," she whined.

  "That is unless you're teaching how fun things can be in the bedroom; those are some hot-ass lessons." I teased.

  "Right, as long as you meet the state standards," she joked. "And yeah, speaking of those boys, what eager beaver eater are ya gonna choose?" she asked, reminding me of how vulgar she could be. Like I could ever forget.

  Nearly choking on my drink, "Did you just call my...my...boyfriends 'eager beaver eaters?" I asked. Char just lost it, laughing uncontrollably.

  "Did you just call them 'your boyfriends,' as in plural?" She could barely get the words out, laughing harder. "You're one lucky-ass whore...dang it...I mean lucky-butt whore."

  Eyeing her suspiciously, "I learned from the best," I countered, and we clinked our glasses and downed our drinks. With that, we ordered another round and some nachos. I needed my energy if both guys were coming over later to discuss our contract. God damn it, it had been way too long since either one of those "eager beaver eaters" were anywhere near where I needed them and wanted them to be. If my prayers were answered, there'd be a lot more going on than just contract negotiations.

  After lunch, Char and I went shopping for a sexy little number to wear for the evening with Briggs and Leo. Every time I tried on clothes, Char sat in the dressing room inspecting and rating each item that I put on. It always made me a little uncomfortable. I have zero notions or inclinations of exhibitionism. There was no escaping her though; modesty and privacy were not words she coveted or cherished.

  "That bra makes your tits…boobs…I mean boobs…look great," she complimented, making me feel very self-conscious and on display.

  "Alright bitch, what gives?" I asked, needing to get to the bottom of this.

  "Huh? Whattya mean?"

  "That is the third fucking time you've corrected yourself when you swore. What's with the new saintly diction?" I asked.

  "Nothing, just trying to be a little more ladylike and less vulgar," she explained.

  "What the fuck ever. Seriously, what's going on?" I asked.

  "Nothing. Really. With real estate in the shitter…toilet…with real estate in the toilet…I need to make sure I'm as polished and professional as I can be," she said as she took her shirt off. Putting on one of the shirts I'd just tried on, she said, "I'd kill for a rack like yours though. You look great in everything."

  "Oh please, I can't wear cute little tight t-shirts like you do, because these things are always vying to escape and kill someone," I laughed, pushing my boobs together like weapons of mass destruction. Okay, maybe I wasn't all that modest. Char brought out the "bad girl" in me.

  "Those babies could kill someone," she stared at me, shaking her head in disbelief. "Mine, they just hide inside and hope it's not some nuclear holocaust," she lamented. Char always complained about her chest size. On a good day, usually the second week of the month, she was a full B-cup. Her B-cup was the espresso cup to my double venti. Christ.

  Char was gorgeous, like drop-dead, I-want-to kill-her-in-her-sleep, gorgeo
us. She was by far the hottest girl in our sorority, but according to her, her flat chest was her biggest flaw. I didn't think that she lacked anything; everything was in proportion. Char had long, naturally blond hair, the type of hair that people pay hundreds of dollars to emulate, but never even come close to imitating. She's a little taller than the average girl; she has a tiny waist, sculpted thighs, calves, and arms, and a tight stomach. Char certainly wasn't hurting in the beauty department. I think our popularity in college was primarily due to her, but we also complemented each other well. If guys weren't into the tall blonde girl, then they often steered toward me, the small brunette. We had the market covered.

  "Speaking of which, how much more do you need to save?" I asked. "You've got to be getting close now." Ever since I met Char, she'd been contemplating getting a boob job. Two years ago, she started an "I just want to wear a strapless shirt" fund for her breast augmentation surgery. If she saved the way she'd originally planned, Char would be having surgery by the end of October.

  "Ummm, I'm not sure. I think we should use that money and go on a cruise," she stated, flooring the fuck out of me.

  "What? You're giving up your dream ta tas for all-you-can-eat shrimp cocktail and adorably-folded towels? I'm dumbfounded," I joked.

  "You underestimate the love one could have for a folded swan," she swooned. "I don't know; I'm just over the big-boobed craze."

  "Alright Char, whatever you say…whatever you say." I knew this was just her fear talking again. She'd be back to dropping money in her Victoria's Secret box again, dreaming of the Double Ds. There was no way, my crazy Char was throwing in the titties for a folded up terrycloth turtle.

  I put on my new sundress before Leo and Briggs showed up. Char insisted that I needed something short and flowy, but crazy sexy, I bought a dress at the little boutique where she always bought her "out on the town" clothes. I was surprised that not every item in the store didn't scream "come fuck me." Char picked a red dress for me that sweetly whispered "you could do some hot things to me tonight if you're nice."

  It was an understated sexy red dress that tied around the neck, dipped low in the back, and hit about mid-thigh. She was right; it was the perfect dress. Char always made me wear red; she said that red was my color with my dark hair and tanned skin. I preferred purple, but she thought guys associated anything purple with Barney. Guys aren't hot for Barney, she'd say. Who could argue with that logic?

  Char was pushing hard-core for Briggs. She believed that he had everything I needed. Personally, I think she just wanted me to have him, because she knew with the girlfriend code, she never could now. Char was hoping for a vicarious rendezvous with Briggs, since the last one ended with a head-to-head video game with my interruption bringing even the fun of Xbox to a screeching halt. She'd nearly salivate at the mention of his name. I loved her for not jumping on the chance to jump on him. She really was a true and loyal friend.

  At any mention of Leo's name, she'd roll her eyes and wave her hand at me, as if he was not of any concern. Sarah, my newest friend, was pulling for Leo. Sarah was taken by Leo's nerdy-boy-gone-stud transformation. Sarah was a bleeding-heart, always cheering for the underdog. In this case though, neither Briggs, nor Leo, was the underdog. Both brought quite a bit to the game, a game that was more than fun to play. And, I couldn't wait to go all in tonight either.

  When I heard the knock, my skin tingled; I'd waited long enough. I opened the door, and Briggs was on me in a second. His mouth hungrily sought mine, devouring me. I had no desire to hold back, no feeling of restraint. I wanted him, needed him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he lifted me up. My legs wrapped eagerly around his waist; I could feel his erection straining against his shorts. I loved that he was hard on arrival. (HOA—way better than DOA) That was hot. Too hot. Wow.

  "Fuck, I missed you," he groaned into my mouth. "Goddamn." Our breathing and desire increased; all the worry and frustration of the last few days were gone. All that mattered was that he was here with me, ready. And oh so freaking hot.

  Briggs nearly threw me on the couch; the look in his icy blue eyes made me squirm. I wanted him; there was no denying that. After our lessons last month, I knew what he had to offer, and it was an offer worth taking. He took off his shirt and started walking toward me, never taking his eyes from mine.

  "Jesus Christ," Leo said through gritted teeth. "I can't be three minutes late, for fuck's sake?" Leo picked up Briggs' shirt, handed it to him, patted his stomach, and said, "Looking a little soft, McConaughey, might wanna lay off the junk food." The shirtless McConaughey reference made me explode with laughter, only pissing off Briggs more.

  Briggs snatched his shirt back and put it on, "Fuck off Cling, soft my ass."

  "Janelle, really?" Leo walked over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table. "I don't expect much from that barbarian, but really? Do you have no restraint?"

  "Don't 'Janelle really' me," I argued. "Neither of you have touched me in ten…very long days."

  Man, Leo looked good. He must've taken his mom and grandma to brunch earlier; something he does on the first Sunday of every month. He knew I was a sucker for the preppy, frat boy look. His clothes were his ammunition today. I loved a well-dressed man. His tan polo shirt looked incredible with this sun-kissed skin. I was surprised at how tan he looked, knowing that he probably doused himself in a gallon of sunscreen every time he encountered daylight. And Briggs, he knew that his eyes were my weakness; he'd deliberately worn a light blue shirt to accentuate my kryptonite. I just knew it. These two were playing hardball. Damn.

  Leo grabbed my hand and said, "Trust me, these last ten days have been torture, but I promise, I'll make every last minute up to you soon." He kissed my hand; my breath caught. I licked my lips. He sighed, leaning closer to me, and I sat up, meeting him.

  "What the fuck," Briggs said. "This shit ain't gonna work. I'm gonna flatten Loverboy Leo over here," he threatened, pushing Leo back. Leo stood up, squaring off, staring Briggs right in his gorgeous, panty-creaming eyes. They were eye-to-eye, like two animals fighting over their prey. Me? I still couldn't fathom that Leo Cling was as tall and as cut as Briggs Alexander. It was truly amazing. Amazing to see the eighth and ninth wonders of the world standing in my pool house, both wanting me.

  I walked between them when Leo whined like schoolboy, "Seriously Janelle, he said 'ain't,' isn't that some sort of deal-breaker for you?"

  "Awwww whattsa matter Cling, don't think you're man enough to win this?" Briggs goaded him.

  "Alright you two," I said staying between them, pushing them apart, letting my hands wander down their chests and past their stomachs. Both men began to react at my slight touch, causing my insides to warm and stir. God, I missed them. "Are you two gonna be able to handle this?" I asked, continuing to rub their chests and stomachs.

  They both nodded. Leo backed away, probably uncertain where this may go. Briggs didn't budge, but stared at me straight in the eyes. My legs wobbled. I wanted him. I was done waiting. Don't get me wrong, Leo was a remarkable and talented lover, but I needed the ruggedness and urgency that Briggs brought to the bedroom, the counter, the couch, the floor. He could definitely bring it—anywhere he fucking wanted.

  "So, who's gonna be on the schedule for tomorrow?" I asked. The question spurned another series of arguments and ridicule, this time without the testosterone showboating.

  The three of us finally made it to the table where we could sit down and pound out a schedule and contract. This was going to be one fun summer. We finally started making some leeway, discussing the rules and expectations of the summer. I amended the previous day's rule. I would still allow them to take me on dates and "do their wooing magic," but all dates needed to be outside of our local vicinity. I was not about to give anyone anything more to gossip and speculate about. After Vince blasted me on every social network site and Marcus told the local television stations that I'd been sleeping with my underage students, I figured that it would be in everyone's best in
terest to ensure that there was a change of venue for our outside dating.

  After a few terms were negotiated, Briggs and Leo hit yet another stalemate. Crossing his arms obstinately, Briggs said, "Sorry, not my problem." He was not being agreeable at all, not giving in.

  "Janelle, can you help me here?" Leo asked, desperate to continue with the contract.

  "Uh…no…y'all are on your own," I said, throwing my hands up in surrender, rocking on two legs of the chair. "I don't even know why you guys wanted me here."

  They wanted me here as a mediator, referee, hell, as a witness when one finally killed the other. They'd argued over every last point and detail in this so-called amicable contract they wanted to draft. The bottom line: these two were never going to get along or make it easy for the other.

  "Briggs, now listen," Leo spoke to him like he was a toddler, and everyone knows you can't reason with a toddler. "You have to give me all day Saturday and all day Sunday, it's only fair…"

  Briggs cut him off, "The Hell I do," he stood up, getting in Leo's face. "It's not my problem you work when we don't." Briggs wanted Saturdays, willing to give Leo Fridays and Sundays; Leo wanted both weekend days since Briggs and I were home, not working all day long throughout the summer. Leo wanted long, lazy afternoons with me too.

  "Guys, can we just get this done? I feel like I'm a 10-year-old little girl witnessing her parents' custody battle," I whined, standing up. Leo grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me over to his lap. I giggled, missing his touch, his playfulness. He nuzzled into my neck; I giggled again. I hadn't touched either of these gorgeous men in almost two weeks. I missed them. Every inch of my body missed them.

  "Oh I seriously don't fucking think so," Briggs gritted through his teeth. "Nobody touches her until this contract is done. You said so yourself Cling." I sighed, got up and went into the kitchen. These two were killing me, frustrating the Hell out of me.