Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  Around midnight, Char and Sarah decide they want more to drink, and take off together to a nearby bar. I’m not surprised at all that they hit it off so well. I doubt either one has ever met anyone more fun and carefree. Part of me lamented for introducing them to each other. I’ll be the odd man out soon enough, once they realize that they are more exciting and daring than I am.

  After they left, Briggs asked me if I wanted him to go. I didn’t. I wanted him to stay, but I was torn, because I wasn’t in the mood for sex at all. I just wanted his company, someone to stay with me. It was a rough, troubling day.

  I explain that to him. He smiles and leads me to my bedroom. Upon entering my room, he sees the flowers Leo had strewn about. I brace myself for the fight, the accusations, and verbal battle.

  Briggs just ignores them and walks to my bed. Ending the silence, he says, “I’ll gladly hold you while you sleep.” He pulls the blankets back as I slip into the bed. Taking off his jeans and shirt, he crawls in behind me, wrapping his arms around me. Quietly in my ear, he whispers, “That’s some stiff competition,” chuckling nervously.

  Rolling over to face him, I kiss him softly on the lips. “I’m sorry. I know this contradicts what I want. I just can’t bear to be alone right now,” I explain, hoping he’ll understand and not call me out on it. I know I’m giving him mixed messages. And now, he’s lying in a bed with me that’s covered in flowers that some other man put there—after a night of passionate love-making. How much longer will either of them tolerate this? They are being nice now, because Vince broadcast my affairs all over two social networks. But soon, soon, someone will want answers, want decisions made.

  Briggs pushes my hair back, and strokes my cheek with his finger, “I understand. I’m not holding you to anything. I’ll take all the time I can get, with or without sex.” He kisses my cheek and snuggles into my neck. Comforted, I suddenly feel very tired and fall asleep quickly.

  I have a fitful night of dreams, tossing and turning.

  In one dream, I dream that I’m Robert Frost and each road I take leads me to Vince, but it isn’t really Vince. He transforms into a rabid angry dog that won’t let me go down the road. I’m terrified and try to run back, but there are two more forks in the road. I choose a path and rabid, Vince-dog is there again. I wake up in a sweat, shaking. Briggs is wrapped tightly around me, sound asleep. I relish his protection and go back to sleep.

  In another dream, I’m in my classroom teaching, when a masked gunman enters the room and tells me that I have to choose one student, just one, and he’s going to shoot him. I tell the gunman to choose me, but he says that it has to be a student, only one student. If I don’t choose, then he’ll kill all of my students and then kill me. So, I choose a small, quiet boy in the back of the room. Right before the gunman shoots the little boy, he takes off his mask. It’s Vince. The last thing I hear or see is the boy screaming. The boy has Briggs’ blue eyes and Leo’s dimples. I wake up screaming, soaked in sweat. Briggs holds me, attempting to console me. My heart’s racing. I’m terrified. Briggs gets up to get water for me, but I pull him back to bed. I’m too frightened to be left alone for even a second.

  Briggs stays awake, rubbing my back until I fall back to sleep. When I wake up the next morning, he’s gone. He collected all the flowers and put them on the counter in a blender full of water.

  He left me a note that reads:

  BRIGGS: You were finally sleeping good so I didn’t wake you. Talk later

  I immediately text him and thank him for staying the night and taking care of me. I also thank him for not destroying my flowers. I type a smiley face, hoping he doesn’t get mad. Then, I group text him and Char, reminding them of their 6:00 date. Since it’s a group text, Char takes the opportunity to make me laugh, attaching a picture of three people in an inexplicable sex act. She asks if I want to make it a three-way? I graciously decline, but tell them both that I want details, explicit details.

  Briggs texts us both and says that he would bite the bullet and stop by later to show me everything he’s planning with Char. He also asks Char if she can get that picture blown up and bring it to him later that night. She’s offended and tells him that he doesn’t need a visual to get turned on when she’s around, she’ll handle it expertly on her own. I know Char is just being funny, her usual vulgar and flirtatious self, but that last text sends a twinge of jealousy through me. I know I’m not being rational or fair, but I know that forcing Briggs to realize that this isn’t a real connection will be the only way I can continue this casual sex thing.

  JOCELYN AND I meet for breakfast. Being the perfect big sister, she has printouts of stories of women who married their former students. School districts tried to fire these teachers, but they couldn’t find anything in their teaching contracts that would justify grounds for termination. Apparently, there is nothing unethical about beginning a relationship with a former student, as long as he/she is no longer a student and is over the age of 18. Jocelyn’s perfectly at ease with the whole situation, completely convinced that my job will not on the line. However, she knows that it will take some time for my reputation to recover from this slander. I hate that my name is being dragged through the mud by a student, a creepy-ass student, who manhandled me and threatened me in my own driveway. Why is that allowed?

  Joz and I decide that retail therapy is the only anecdote for my woes. Sensing that there is something else on my mind, she probes me for answers. Finally, I cave and tell her about Char’s date with Briggs. She looks at me with disgust and annoyance, and says, “You’re the dumbest person on the whole freaking planet. I cannot believe we have the same DNA.”

  When I ask her why and what makes her say so, she simply says, “I can’t even talk to you. You’re so stupid.” She knows everything about Briggs and Leo, well mostly everything. Some things are not meant for Jocelyn’s prude-like ears. She won’t talk to me anymore about either of them once I tell her about Char and Briggs. Won’t hear of one more thing—no compliments, no stories, nothing. She’s officially done with me and my stupidity. Those were her words exactly.

  Rick meets Jocelyn and me at the pool house with the kids. They are all staying to swim and cook out. Jasper brought hamburgers down to grill. It’s nice to spend the day with my family. Nobody speaks of the Tweet or Facebook post. We have a nice family day, swimming and playing in the water. Kids can really take your mind off things. You don’t have time to dwell and feel sorry for yourself. They can really keep you distracted.

  Just as the burgers are ready, the girls squeal and run to the pool’s gate. Leo’s standing at the pool’s gate. Each girl grabs ahold of his hand, dragging him to the pool deck. He smiles at everyone and says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were having a cookout today.” He looks apologetic and tries to tell the girls that he can’t stay.

  Jasper waves him over, offering him a beer and a burger, and urging him to hang out for a bit. Leo attempts to decline, but Jocelyn is already handing him a plate with a burger, chips, and macaroni salad piled high on it at the same time that Rick cracks him open a beer. Leo smiles, and thanks them, mouthing, “I’m sorry” to me.

  I laugh, and say, “No, I’m sorry… you’ll see soon enough.”

  We spend the entire afternoon talking, drinking, and playing in the pool. Leo fits in well with my family, too well. It’s almost as if he’s always been here, been a part of us. Leo’s at home with everyone—comfortable in a family setting.

  At one point, my niece, Kara, called him “Uncle Leo.” When he explained that he was just a friend, she told him that he was more fun and more of an “uncle” than Jasper. Jasper gave them each fifty bucks to never say that again.

  Rich and happy, the girls plunge back into the pool, ruining their brothers’ game of water basketball. My nephews convince their dad, Jasper, and Leo to play basketball with them while the girls pretend to be cheerleaders, jumping off the diving board and sidewall whenever anyone scores. Joz and I just sit with our feet in the wa
ter, on the steps, talking.

  “I don’t envy you,” she admits, honestly.

  “About what? Marcus? My job? What?” I ask, knowing it could be an infinite number of possibilities at this point.

  Slapping me, she says, “You know what. Having to choose one.” Our legs are getting hot. She splashes water onto our thighs. “I don’t know how you’re going do it.”

  “I’m not. We’re just having fun. I made that clear from the start,” I explain, trying to convince her, and maybe convince myself too.

  She gives me her infamous “all-knowing Jocelyn” look, and says, “We’ll see.”

  It took Rick and Jocelyn what seemed like an eternity to round up all their kids. Every time they got one out of the water and drying off, another would jump back into the pool. It was hilarious watching the fiasco that was now my sister’s life, a fiasco that she loved and couldn’t imagine any other way. Once they finally left, Leo told Jasper that we’d clean up and put all the recreational toys away. Jasper was out the gate, before Leo could say it twice or thank him for the burgers. Jasper loved to escape routine household chores.

  “Let’s swim for a little bit,” he urges, taking my hand and leading me toward the pool. I’m hot and feeling a little sticky from sitting in the sun so long with Joz. I don’t protest at all. I love the water. I don’t swim much when Joz is around. She isn’t a big fan. Diving under the water, I come up closer than I intend to Leo, but do not regret it at all.

  Smiling, I put my hair back, off my face, and look at him. He’s so cute, so freaking adorable. No other word can accurately describe him. He’s adorable. His dimples just soften the mood, make people happier when he’s around.

  “Janelle, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses me softly, running his wet hands down my soaked arms. He lifts me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck and float my legs around his waist.

  Kissing in the water is so sensual, so romantic. His thumb glides over my nipple; it hardens at his touch. Leo slides his hand into my the top of my bikini, making me hot, hot in the wet, cold water, but paradoxically sending shivers down my back and arms.

  The shivers trigger my conscience. I can’t do this stuff. We’ve already spent the day as a couple—well almost. Making out and fooling around in the water is just too intimate, especially because I just love it so much.

  “Whoa… whoa… alright buddy,” I stop him, feeling guilty since his erection is already probing at the material of my bikini bottoms. “I think your hormones are a little out of whack.” I say, laughing, turning everything into a joke. I don’t want to get into an argument about who’s feeling what and what those feelings are. I just want to have fun and forget about Vince and his attempts to ruin my relationships and my career. Oh yeah, and forget about my Hellish marriage that is about to end.

  “Hormones? I doubt that. I know beautiful when I see it,” he responds, kissing me lightly on the lips, lingering only for a second. “But if you just want to swim, I can respect that.”

  Why do his little statements like that turn me on so much? His agreeability makes him so easy to be around and so irresistible. I do want him, want him badly. Actually, I want him to take me right here on the steps of the pool, bent over the railing, but I feel too guilty sleeping with him again, especially right after those social media posts. And while Briggs is out with Char.

  I can’t have sex with Leo when I basically forced Briggs to sleep with someone else. Could I? Shit. I don’t know the rules to this “playing the field” or “whoring around” business. Basically, I keep turning the tables and changing the rules to my own game. How can anyone win when nobody really knows the rules? All I know is that when one of them is around, all I want to do is rip off his clothes and have my way with him, and unfortunately, it doesn’t really matter which one it is. I want them equally.

  Leo and I continue to swim and play around in the pool for a while, keeping the kissing and caressing at a minimum. But yeah, a little can’t hurt, right? When he asks if he can take me to dinner the next night, I tell him that I don’t think that’s such a good idea with everything going on. Understanding, Leo nods and shrugs his shoulders, defeated. I hate that it seems like I’m disappointing him. But I am disappointing him. Disappointing myself too. I just can’t understand why if I want something, someone, I can’t just have him… or them. Granted, technically, I am still married. But that marriage means squat to me now.

  AFTER LEO LEAVES, I decide that I’ll just turn in early, get a good night’s sleep and just forget about everything. It’s 7:30 on a Saturday night in the summer, and I’m going to bed. It’s pretty evident that my life is in shambles. Just as I pull on a pair of old sports shorts and a t-shirt, my phone dings. It’s a text from Char. She’s supposed to be at Briggs’ at 6:00. Are they already done?

  Reluctantly, with my hand shaking inexplicably, I open the message. It’s a picture of Char sitting on Briggs’ lap that reads:

  CHARLENE: Just got here. Nice place. Let the good times roll.

  All at once, my stomach falls and my heart aches. Fuck. They’re really going to do this. I set this up, so I can’t be upset. I taught Briggs all the tricks that he needs to make her happy, satiated, and feel so incredibly wonderful. This will be great, great for both of them.

  My Char and my… my… Fuck!

  No way!

  Over my goddamn dead body.

  I grab my keys, run out the door, and jump in my car. Briggs’ address is listed on his Facebook page, but I’m blocked. We aren’t even friends on Facebook, but yet we have sex like it’s our job. What the Hell am I doing? I’m freaking out about Briggs sleeping with my best friend, and we aren’t even stupid social network friends. What the heck! Who does this? But, I can’t let it happen. Briggs cannot sleep with Char. He’s mine! She can’t have him.

  Briggs better not touch her. Char better not get within one foot of him… Holy Hell, what did I do? I call Sarah and ask her to look it up for me and text me with it. Asking no questions, she says, “No problem,” and hangs up.

  I know what area of the city he lives in, so I drive in that direction, hoping Sarah’s text will come soon. Finally, the phone dings, and I have his address. Thank God. He lives closer than I thought. I’m only five minutes away. Hopefully not five minutes too late. Oh God Char, don’t do it! I decide to call her.

  No answer. Fuck.

  I swallow my pride and call Briggs.

  No answer either.

  Mother Fuck a Cat!

  I know I’m being irrational, but I can’t stop myself. I can’t allow them to… Oh God. What have I done? Does this mean that I want more with Briggs, want more than just the whole “”No Strings Attached” boundaries I originally set? Hell, I don’t know what it means. I just know that I don’t want them to fuck for whatever dumbass reason I gave them in the first place.

  Arriving at his apartment complex, I see Char’s car. My stomach lurches. I forced them into this. She’s going to screw Briggs Alexander, because she is my best friend, and I asked her to do so. Briggs will sleep with Char, because she’s, well Char, and I asked him to. They’re doing this for me. I run up the steps to his apartment, putting my ear to the door.

  “Take that, bitch!” is all I hear before I swinging the door open, causing each of them to jump a foot out of their chairs.

  There they are, my best friend and my lover, sitting in separate black leather recliners, remotes in hand, playing Madden 13. Apparently, Briggs is winning, but not by much. Char smiles when she sees me, my face reddening more and more by the second.

  Char stands up, hands me the remote, and gloats, “What took you so long?”

  Not understanding, I look from her to him, trying to figure everything out. Char waltzes over to Briggs, kisses his head lightly and says, “I told you so. Good luck, buddy,” and starts to walk away. Before she leaves, she calls, “And stud, you owe me fifty bucks.”

  Briggs calls after her, “Actu
ally a hundred if you count the first round of Madden, too.”

  Briggs gets up, turns off his TV, walks over, and picks me up, kissing me deeply. Walking with me in his arms, Briggs never breaks the kiss. It’s sensual and erotic. As he finally lies me down on his bed, he scolds, “I’d never sleep with your best friend, Janelle. I can’t sleep with anyone else. You’re all I want.” He climbs on top of me, kissing me with purpose.

  Pushing him off, I say, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He sits back, stunned, hurt.

  “What? I’m sorry, I just can’t…” he stammers.

  Cutting him off, I say, “A fucking waterbed Briggs? Seriously? Are you a pimp from 1982?” I ask laughing and pulling him back on top of me as we sink into the squishy, wavy waterbed from 1982.

  “I can be, if that’s your thing.” He kisses me again, taking my shirt and shorts off with our lips only breaking apart for a second. Our tongues dance around inside our mouths. You can’t tell where one tongue stops and one starts. Briggs’ hands explore my chest, reaching under my shirt to touch my breasts, rubbing my nipples. He tugs lightly, making me realize how much I really want him. I’m so ready for him.

  Briggs did not touch Char! I could not be happier.

  Finally breaking the kiss, lying in his arms, wearing only a bra and underwear, he humbly asks, “So, you decided then?”

  “Decided what?” I don’t know what he means.

  “You’re not seeing Cling anymore, are you?” He looks so hopeful, so alive.

  I can’t answer him. He just looks at me, waiting, confused and pained. “Briggs, I just… I don’t…” I don’t know what to say to him. I know I’m not going to lie to him anymore.