Schooled (25 page)

“Janelle,” Sarah started, “Are you friends with Vince Bentley on Facebook? Follow him on Twitter?” Her question terrified me; why was she bringing him up now of all times? I looked to Char; I couldn’t speak.

Char screamed, “Why, what the fuck did that bastard do?” She was standing, screaming in Sarah’s face. I pulled her back; she could be scary sometimes.

“Ummmm,” Sarah stammered, looking to Leo for help.

“Janelle…”

“What Leo, tell me,” I pleaded, holding his shirt for support.

Leo handed me his phone. His Twitter was up, and I crumbled when I read the words:

Janelle Garrity plays favorites in the classroom and bedroom; just ask her former student boy toys. #Couldntmakethegrade.

“Facebook, show me Facebook,” I yelled. Nobody moved. “Show me the fucking Facebook post.” They looked from one to the other, all three afraid to move. Finally, Sarah stepped forward, reluctantly offering me her phone.

Right there, for all the world to see was the picture Vince sent to Briggs with the caption:
From British Lit to Sex Ed, this teacher does it all, and I mean all.
My finger was in Leo’s mouth, a look of passion and desire on both of our faces.

“I’m ruined,” I said, crumpling to the floor. All three slumped down next to me, consoling me. When there was a pounding on the door, Char and Leo both bolted to get it, to protect me from whatever may be on the other side.

The second they opened the door, Briggs barged through, “Where is she?” he asked, looking around the room. Seeing me, he dropped to the floor, wrapping his arms around me. “Fuck Janelle, I’m so sorry; this is all my fault.” I cried into his shoulder, not caring that three other sets of eyes were on us. He held me, rocking me slowly. He kept repeating, “I’m gonna fix this,” and “I’ll fucking kill him,” over and over again.

Char relayed the story to all of them about what had happened earlier with Vince. Leo and Sarah were disgusted. Briggs leapt up. He was raging, heading straight for the door, screaming, “That mother fucker is dead.”

Leo restrained Briggs, forcing him back onto the couch. Briggs was ready to kill Vince. Sarah, Char, and I couldn’t believe that little Leo Cling had the strength and courage to hold Briggs back. He certainly wasn’t a little boy anymore. Crew team. Wow, it worked miracles.

Once Briggs calmed down, Leo confronted him, “Relax man, beating the shit outta that fucker is only going to fuel his fire; who knows what he’ll do next?” Leo paused and looked over at us. “We need to think this through, do nothing irrational, especially something that would make you look guilty, Janelle.” I nodded, knowing that he was right.

Briggs countered, “I want him to know he can’t fuck with her, nobody fucks with my…” He stopped, realizing all eyes were on him. His what? Leo’s shoulders slumped.

Char took over, “Leo’s right; we just can’t go kill him. Believe me Briggs, I wanna do exactly that. Fucker deserves it.” Sarah agreed with Char and Leo. Briggs knew he was outnumbered and calmed a bit. Based on his body language, we all knew he wasn’t happy.

Leo seemed uncomfortable, completely out of sorts with himself, with the company, and the environment. “Janelle, I’m gonna get going; call me if you need anything.” He looked so sad, so sorry for all that had transpired. I started to get up; he put up his hand, “Don’t get up, I’ll call ya later,” he said. Sarah and Char walked him out, leaving Briggs and I alone.

“So, what all did you tell him, Briggs?” I asked. Had he told Vince all about our “lessons,” our intimate secrets, secrets I’d already told Char? How could I be mad? I opened my mouth to Char, Hell to Sarah and Leo too. As much as I wanted to blame Briggs, I knew it really wasn’t his fault.

“I swear, nothing really,” he said. “That first night when I saw you at Last Stop, he went with me to get your car. That night, I told him about dancing with ya, but nothing else.” Resting his head in his hands and then rubbing his head, he groaned, “But then, that morning he stopped over to get his clubs; he must’ve….Shit, this is all my fault.”

“Briggs, this is just as much my fault as anyone’s,” I explained. I pulled his hands away from his face, “Look at me, it takes two…” I looked away, embarrassed. The truth hurt; everyone knew that. “Vince didn’t post anything that wasn’t true.” I shook my head. Hating myself.

“So, you and Leo?”

I nodded, feeling guilty. He dropped his head, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I know, ‘No Strings Attached.”

“A lot of good that did me,” I joked sarcastically.

Char and Sarah came back in, both of them eyeing us suspiciously. Char said that she was hungry and wanted pizza and beer, lots of it; she emphasized. Sarah and Briggs both jumped on the order; they were starving. Why did personal tragedies always turn in to a social gathering around food? I didn’t know, nor did I care. Pizza and beer sounded great, just another reason to drown out my woes.

Sarah said that she had two free pizza coupons for pickup only. She offered to run to get beer and pick up the pizza, needing to stop by the ATM on the way. Char and Briggs both volunteered to go with her, waving them off, she said it wasn’t necessary. She claimed that she was a big girl and not some “dumb chick who had to travel in packs.” Char laughed; I could tell that she was already digging Sarah. Sarah was so likeable; I couldn’t imagine anyone not taking to her.

As she was leaving, Sarah picked up the guitar sitting by the kitchen table, “Briggs, I didn’t know you still played…” she said.

He laughed, “Nah, not really much anymore, just when I have a lot on my mind,” he added. For the first time since I’d ever known Briggs, he looked shy and insecure.

“You play the guitar?” I asked incredulously.

“Does he play? He’s fucking awesome,” Sarah announced. “We took lessons at the same place. I took violin; he took guitar. His timeslot was right before mine.” Briggs grinned, bashfully, his shoulders hunched. Briggs Alexander was being modest? No way. “You should hear him; I always thought he was better at guitar than football.” She laughed and waved as she left to get the pizza.

That shook him out of it, “Hey! That’s not true,” he blurted. “Football was my thing, my only thing. My parents said that I had to put as much time into music as I did into football,” he said, defending himself. How was it that I knew nothing about my students and thought I knew everything? “I had to take lessons once a week for eight suck-ass years. “

“You took lessons for eight years?” I couldn’t believe this. “So take the guitar for yourself, start playing again.” I grabbed the guitar, forcing it into his hands.

“I never quit playing; I have three guitars at home,” he confessed. He handed the guitar back to me, “I just figured that if we ever got, I don’t know, like bored, I could teach you some time.” His smile was slight, unsure.

“You bought her a guitar?” Char was shocked. “So you could teach her?” Briggs nodded. I could tell that she was going to continue to grill him, making him more uncomfortable than he already was.

“Yeah Char,” I said, giving her the “shut the fuck up” look. Defeated, she slumped down on the couch, waving me off. “That was the plan. Are you planning to teach me to be a ventriloquist too? Tennis?” I asked sardonically.

He laughed, shaking his head, “Nah, I suck at tennis; you’d probably beat me. And the puppet, that was just to be funny.” Now, it’s funny; then, it was creepy and spooky…until the roses came.

Char was eyeing us again; she and I definitely needed some alone girl time. She couldn’t be kept in the dark too long, otherwise, she’d find another way to get answers to her questions. Char could pry things out of people better than anyone. She should’ve gone into the FBI, CIA, or something like that, been someone who intimidates the fuck out of someone until disclosure occurs.

Briggs, Char, and I sat in the living room discussing what my next plan of action would be regarding Vince and his slanderous posts on Twitter and Facebook. Damn social networks. Char thought that professionally I should just ignore it, but slash his tires for revenge. Briggs didn’t know what to think or say about my career, but thought that I should let him beat Vince to a pulp. It was evident that these two weren’t going to be much help, other than by cheering me up and taking my mind off things. Jasper and Jocelyn would be my best bets for advice, and maybe my school union rep, if it came to that. It would come to that; the school would find out. I just knew it. Leo. Leo’d probably have an idea of what to do, too; he was intelligent and level-headed. Me? What did I want to do? Crawl in a hole and die, wish the whole thing away. Yeah, then I could fly away on a purple unicorn with fairies flying out my butt….

Strangely, I became keenly aware of the situation, mainly the scene and seating situation. Here I was in a total state of personal panic and possible career ruin, and I was sitting alone in my house with my best friend and my…my…what did Vince call him? My boytoy. Char was sprawled out on the double-sized chair, and I was snuggled up on the floor, with my head in Briggs’ lap. This looked entirely too intimate, like he was my boyfriend, there to comfort me with my best friend in my time of need. This certainly wasn’t at all an example of “No Strings Attached.”

“So guys, we don’t have much time until Sarah gets back,” I started. They both looked at me quizzically. “We need to plan your rendezvous,” I said. When they still looked perplexed, I said, “Your hookup, fooling around for me. Let’s set it up now.” I wanted them to get on board with this, see how important this was for me. “Char, whattya got going on tomorrow night?” I asked.

Fumbling for words and looking at me like I’d lost my mind, she said, “Tomorrow? Umm…tomorrow night?” She looked at Briggs; he was speechless and stunned.

“Yes tomorrow night, Sunday night, day after today,” I was getting exasperated. They both had already told me that they were in. Why were they acting so surprised now? “Do you have time to..to..ya know, fuck Briggs?”

Briggs let out a gasp, covering his face with his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. Suddenly, he said, “Janelle, I don’t think….”

I cut him off, “You better not think; you just DO,” I explained, emphasizing the DO. “Do you wanna come over here, hang out with me, and…” looking at Char, I paused, and said, “Do me?” Char burst out in laughter. He just dropped his head in defeat.

“Nelle, so you’re saying, he can’t schlep you again, until he’s schlepped me?” she clarified. I looked at both of them. They looked at each other. The room filled with an awkward, unchartered air. Neither of them spoke.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Briggs.” He looked at me with disbelief. “No Strings Attached.” He maneuvered out from underneath me.

“Can we talk about this in the other room?” he whispered to me.

Annoyed, I yelled, “No! That’s the point. This is fun, casual sex. You need to prove to me that this is just two people having fun, nothing more.” Char got up to leave the room, and I said, “Sit down, don’t move.” She plopped back down on the chair, rolling her eyes.

I sat there waiting, waiting for someone to say something. When they didn’t, I said, “You both have slept with strangers for just plain, old sex before. Why is this any different? Why can’t you do it for me? For my sanity, my sense of peace?” I didn’t understand why they were making so much out of this. Char had slept with maybe hundreds of men; Briggs, I’m sure had been around too. They were both good-looking people with crazy sex-drives. Why was this such a big deal?

Finally Char said, “Yeah, that’s fine. If you’re serious, then 6:00 tomorrow is fine with me.” Good. Great. Wasn’t that easy?

I looked at Briggs hopefully and expectantly. Still staring at both of us, he finally nodded and said, “Tomorrow’s fine. Come by my place; I’ll text you the address.” Was I imagining things or did they both look sad and defeated? Char and Briggs loved sex. Why wouldn’t they love sex together? I couldn’t understand why they looked so distraught by the idea.

Sarah returned with the pizza and beer; the four of us spent the rest of the evening, eating drinking, and just hanging out. It was a good time, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that I was minutes from losing my job, just as I had lost my husband. My world was falling apart, bit by bit, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Just when the beer and pizza had run out completely, I got a text from Leo, asking if he could stop by. I looked at Briggs, lying on my floor, feet away from me, and told Leo that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Guilt overcame me. There would be no way I could juggle both of these guys. It just wasn’t in me.

Around midnight, Char and Sarah decided they wanted more to drink, and took off to a nearby bar. I wasn’t surprised that they’d hit it off so well. I doubted either one had ever met anyone more fun and carefree. Part of me lamented for introducing them to each other; I’d be the odd man out soon enough, once they realized that they were more exciting and daring than I.

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 was not in the mood for sex at all. I just wanted his company, someone to stay with me. It had been a rough, troubling day. I explained that to him. He smiled and led me to my bedroom. Upon entering my room, he saw the flowers Leo had strewn about. I braced myself for the fight, the accusations, and verbal battle. Briggs just ignored them and walked to my bed. Ending the silence, he said, “I’d gladly hold you while you sleep.” He pulled the blankets back, I slipped into the bed. Taking off his jeans and shirt, he crawled in behind me, wrapping his arms around me. Quietly in my ear, he whispered, “That’s some stiff competition,” chuckling nervously.

Rolling over to face him, I said, “I’m sorry. I know this contradicts what I want; I just can’t bear to be alone right now,” I explained, hoping he’d understand and not call me out on it. I knew I was giving him mixed messages. And now, he was lying in a bed with me that was covered in flowers that some other man had put there. How much longer would either of them tolerate this? They were being nice now, because Vince had broadcast my affairs all over two social networks. But soon, soon, someone would want answers, decisions made.