Rescue Me

by Mia Ford

  Chapter Eight

  June

  On Saturday, Angela and I went out shopping. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone other than her, but I was desperate to find something that wouldn’t made me look like a little kid in the eyes of Thomas. We went from department store to department store, looking at dresses, lingerie, and shoes.

  “What about this?” I held up a grey silk bra, La Perla, with the cups done in lace.

  “It wouldn’t look right on you,” Angela said. She frowned and stepped closer. “Let me have a look.” She shuffled the shopping bags from one arm to the other, hoisting them high on her shoulder. “What about this?”

  I frowned. Angela was holding up a white cotton chemise, slightly sheer.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I’d look like Anne of Green Gables,” I said, twisting my lips.

  Angela laughed. “It would be sexy on you!”

  “I want something sexier,” I said, pushing the chemise aside and rifling through a table of brightly-colored silk panties. “Like this,” I added, holding up a pair of black silk undies.

  Angela burst out laughing. “June, those are crotchless.”

  “What?!” I dropped the black silk on the table, blushing hotly. My flush deepened when I realized that people all over the store were staring at us.

  “June, come over here,” Angela said. “Put those down,” she added, pointing to an emerald pair of undies clutched in my hands.

  Frowning, I followed Angela out of lingerie and into outerwear.

  “Getting a coat would be just covering up even more,” I said in irritation.

  “No, I’m not talking about that,” Angela said. She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, okay?” She pulled me over to the shoe department. “What about just…you know, kind of modifying your everyday wardrobe?”

  “I don’t know,” I confessed. “What exactly do you mean?”

  Angela sighed and rolled her eyes. “Like, I don’t know.” She gestured down at my outfit. I glanced down, half-expecting the solution to pop into my head. I was wearing slim jeans, a white blouse, and a black cardigan with the first button fastened.

  “I still don’t get it,” I said.

  “So, you look cute,” Angela said. “But what if you traded your pants for something that came above your ankles, and then wore heels?”

  “That sounds painful.”

  “And ditch the cardigan,” Angela added. “And get a cuter blouse – you know, something that actually fits you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You can stop insulting my whole wardrobe now,” I said testily.

  Angela laughed. “June, I didn’t mean it like that.” She sighed. “But a dramatic change is too much, at least, for now. Unless you feel comfortable in something, you won’t look sexy.”

  I stared at her.

  “Remember the black dress?” Angela gesticulated with her hands, drawing them tightly from her bust line to her hips. “You know -- the first dress I picked out for you to wear on your date.”

  “I wouldn’t ever wear something like that,” I said quickly.

  Angela grabbed my hand. “That’s the point,” she said. She tossed her hair, looking smug. “Because you wouldn’t feel comfortable in it.”

  I blinked. “I guess I get that,” I said.

  “So, for now, we just…upgrade a few things,” Angela said. “And we branch out, until you start feeling sexy. Then you can rock stuff like this,” she added, pointing towards a trench coat.

  I frowned. “I could wear that now,” I said.

  Angela stared at me for a few seconds before she burst out laughing. “June, I mean like, wear it without anything on underneath.”

  I blushed and gaped. “You can’t mean that,” I said hotly.

  Angela smirked. “Thomas would love it,” she said, tossing her hair. “Come on,” she added. “Let’s go to sportswear. I’ll pick some cute stuff for you, okay?”

  I frowned. “Okay,” I said. “I’m not feeling very optimistic, though.”

  Angela laughed. “You don’t have to,” she said. “It’ll come. Don’t worry, June. I’ll make sure you look super hot.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  But an hour and a half later, I was surprised to see that Angela had been right. She picked out a pair of black cigarette jeans for me that hit just above the ankle and a pair of sandals with a low heel that looked deceptively sexy once I was wearing them.

  “You do innocent well,” Angela said. She narrowed her eyes and surveyed me. “So, you should stick with that and make it work.”

  I sighed and twisted my long black hair into a knot.

  Angela held up a blouse. It wasn’t like most of my tops. It was navy cotton, with puffed short sleeves and ribbon threaded around the eyelet cuffs.

  “Try this on,” Angela said.

  I took it and slumped into a dressing room. I was tired – even on the best of days, I hadn’t always enjoyed shopping. It always felt like tedious work to me. And even though I knew I had a decent body, I always looked so puffy and fat in the florescent store lighting. Even expensive stores, like Neiman Marcus, didn’t seem to have very flattering fitting rooms.

  I sighed as soon as the blouse was on and stomped out of the dressing room. Angela grinned when she saw me. She tugged the neckline of the blouse down and moved the short sleeves so they sat just off my shoulders.

  “That looks sexy,” Angela declared. She spun me around and pointed to my reflection in a mirror. “You agree?”

  I bit my lip. “I hate to say this,” I said. “But you’re right.”

  Angela grinned triumphantly. “Come on,” she said. “I need a new pair of shoes, and then we can go get ice cream. You look like you’re ready to drop dead.”

  I nodded. “I hate shopping,” I told her as I carried my purchases to the counter.

  “This was worth it,” Angela said. She gave me a satisfied smirk. “Thomas is going to flip when he sees you in that shirt.”

  I blushed. The truth was, I’d been really hoping to hear from Thomas. But two days had passed since our last day and he hadn’t called. I knew that it was the twenty-first century, that men didn’t always have to make the first move. But somehow, I also knew that Thomas was a guy who enjoyed making the first move, that he was the kind of man who would be turned off by a woman who was actively pursuing him.

  On Sunday, Angela and I went to the park and I did some schoolwork while she read. The days were growing chillier. I had a feeling by the end of October, I wouldn’t want to be outside at all. As it was, I was wrapped up in a blanket cardigan and enjoying the feel of the sun warming my black hair.

  I tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread in my stomach. Thomas seemed to really like me , I thought as I rolled over onto my belly and stuffed the paperwork back into my bag. Why hasn’t he called me yet?

  Monday morning, I woke up almost too late. I managed to pull a dress over my head and match it with tights and boots before stumbling out of the apartment and catching a cab all the way to P.S. 151. Cabs were normally a forbidden luxury for me, especially on the salary of a public teacher. But I couldn’t risk another tardy, especially not when it was so early in the school year.

  It started raining in the middle of the morning, which put all the kids in a bad mood. Brett was acting especially terrible. Now that I was dating his father, I knew I had to walk a very thin line between Good Teacher and Possibly Dangerous Teacher. Still, I wasn’t going to tolerate any more bad behavior. At ten-thirty, Brett slipped out of his chair and yanked Lily’s pigtails so hard that she shrieked. I dropped the chalk onto the ground and whirled around, glaring angrily at him.

  “Brett March,” I said angrily. “Come with me.”

  The other students were silent as I took Brett’s arm and walked him down the hall to the principal’s office. He was silent the whole time, his face clouded with anger and rage.

  “I didn’t even do anything,” Brett whined. “Why are you picking on me?”

  “Becaus
e you’ve been a really naughty little boy,” I said angrily. “And I’m not going to tolerate that kind of behavior in my classroom.”

  The principal was in a meeting, so I left Brett with his secretary and pushed my way into the hall. My face was flushed with anger and my heart was pounding. I knew that Thomas wouldn’t be happy with Brett, and I desperately hoped that I wasn’t killing our relationship before it had even gotten off the ground by disciplining his son.

  “Hey June.”

  I jumped. Andy was standing right behind me, smirking.

  “Oh, hi,” I said quickly. “I’ve got to run back to class, Andy, I just had to take a kid to the principal.”

  Andy raised his eyebrows. “So, when can I take you out again, June?”

  “I’m really busy,” I said quickly.

  Andy laughed and looked hurt. “I didn’t even mention a date yet,” he said. He crossed his arms and frowned. “Why don’t you want anything to do with me?”

  I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m just really dealing with a lot of stuff,” I said.

  “Well, I’m not asking you to marry me,” Andy said. “Come on, June. I’m asking you for a date. Just one more date, okay?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Andy, I really don’t know.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

  “Just say yes.” Andy’s eyes flickered with anger. “Just say yes, June. Just one dinner.”

  “Okay,” I said quickly. “Fine. But I’ve got to get back to class, Andy. Bye!”

  Turning on my heel, I jogged in the other direction. I was only grateful that Andy didn’t follow me.

  Back in my classroom, Ruth had things under control. I flashed her a grateful smile as I took my place at the front of the class. In a span of just a few minutes, I’d gone from feeling bad to worse. I couldn’t believe that Andy had pressured me into saying yes. I didn’t even like him! I just felt obligated, and he was so pushy that I couldn’t stand it.

  I sighed. “Okay, class,” I said. “Please take out your copies of Misty of Chincoteague and turn to Chapter Two.

  “Yes, Miss Rogers,” the class echoed in unison.

  At least I’m doing one thing right , I thought as I lifted my copy from my desk and began to read. So at least there’s that .

  --

  By the time the bell rang at the end of the day, I couldn’t wait to get home. A low-grade migraine had started to throb at the back of my neck and my eyeballs were aching with tension. The only good thing was that Andy was leaving me alone…even if I was trapped into going on a date with him sometime in the nearby future.

  When I got home, Angela was still at work. I took a long hot shower until the water ran cold, then wrapped myself in a fluffy bathrobe and made a mug of hot chocolate. Just as I was curling up on the couch with Wuthering Heights , the door flew open and Angela stalked in.

  “I can’t believe it,” Angela said. She groaned. “There’s something outside for you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  Angela smirked. “Go and see,” she said. “It must’ve come after you got home.”

  I frowned. “I thought I heard someone ringing the buzzer,” I said. “But I guess I thought I imagined it. I was in the shower,” I added.

  “You’re so spacey,” Angela said. She rolled her eyes. “Go and see. I promise, you’ll like it.”

  Cramming my feet into an old pair of slippers, I went out into the hall. When I saw, what was waiting for me, I gasped. An enormous display of white roses, shaped perfectly like a cube, was waiting for me. It was easily the most beautiful display I’d ever seen. When I saw, the card marked with ‘June,’ I shivered.

  “Can you help?” I called. “These things are heavy!”

  The flower cube had a convenient little pedestal stand and Angela and I worked hard to push it into our apartment. Soon, the whole flat was filled with the delicious scent of roses.

  “You’re lucky I like floral scents,” Angela said sarcastically. “That’s the biggest bouquet I’ve ever seen!”

  “I know.” My mouth felt dry and I walked in slow circles around the cube of white roses, gently brushing the tips of my fingers against the petals.

  The card read: “June – I can’t wait to be with you again. You’re even softer than these roses. Thomas.”

  I blushed. “I can’t read this out loud,” I confessed. “You read it.”

  Angela held the card in her hands. As her lips moved over the words, she blushed and her mouth formed a small ‘o.’

  “Wow,” Angela said. “He really likes you!” She laughed. “And I hope you didn’t do anything that would make my dress need to be dry-cleaned.”

  “Definitely not,” I said quickly. I recounted how Thomas had touched me in the restaurant and in his car. “But it didn’t go further than that,” I said, blushing hotly. “I wanted it to, though.”

  “I bet,” Angela said dryly. She tucked the card down into the beautiful white roses. “These really are gorgeous,” she said. She sniffed. “No one has ever even sent me carnations ,” she added sourly.

  I laughed. “Want me to ask Thomas if he has any single billionaire friends?”

  “Oh, could you?”

  We burst out laughing together. “I’d feel so weird,” I said. “Ugh!”

  “So, how was your day?”

  I shrugged. Something told me I shouldn’t bring up Andy, but I couldn’t help mentioning it.

  “It was so creepy,” I added. “It was like he was so persistent, but he wasn’t even being nice about it! Like, why the heck would he want anything to do with me when he has this much disdain for me?”

  Angela eyed me for a long time. “June…someone sent you this,” she added, pointing to the white roses. “And you’re thinking about going on another date with that loser?”

  “I don’t want to,” I said honestly. “I just…well, I don’t really know what to do. I feel like I have to! He wouldn’t take no for an answer, Ang.”

  “Call him and tell him that it’s off,” Angela said. “He can’t possibly back you into a corner when you’re just on the phone with him.”

  I sighed. Just as I was about to reach for my phone, it started to buzz. I leapt up in excitement when I saw Thomas’s name on the caller identification.

  “Hello?” I was flushed and breathless as I answered.

  “Hello, June.”

  “I love the flowers!” I gushed quickly. “They’re so, so beautiful, Thomas! I’ve never seen anything like them before!”

  Thomas chuckled. “I’m glad you like them,” he said. “I picked them out with you in mind.”

  I squirmed and flushed, biting my lip.

  “June, come out to dinner with me this Saturday,” Thomas said firmly. “I’ve got this great new wine bar – you’ll love it. Lots of vintage blends and little tapas.”

  “Yes,” I said instantly, not even thinking about it. “Yes, I’d love to.”

  “I’m sorry that it’s going to have to be around eight,” Thomas said. “I have a meeting earlier in the evening, but I’d love to see you. If that’s too late, let me know – I could always send you dinner first.”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “That’s not too late. Eight sounds perfect.”

  “Good,” Thomas said. I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was smirking. “I can’t wait to see you, June.”

  His voice was full of dark promise. I shivered, closing my eyes and thinking about what would happen between us.

  “I can’t wait, either,” I whispered hotly into the phone.

  We hung up and I clutched my phone to my chest, smiling happily and swaying from side to side.

  “Thomas?” Angela asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said smugly. “He called me and asked me out on Saturday. We’re going to a wine bar,” I added. “With vintage blends. And tapas!”

  “That sounds great,” Angela said enviously. “God, can you bring home your leftovers?”

  I laughed. “It’s
tapas,” I said. “Unless I only have like one bite of each thing, there won’t be any!”

  “Find an invisibility cloak and take me with you,” Angela said. She smirked.

  I didn’t reply. Something had just popped into my head.

  “What? June, it was a joke,” Angela said. “I didn’t actually mean—“

  I grinned. “I don’t have to go out with Andy,” I said.

  “Duh, now just call him and tell him.”