Office Hours Ch. 09

There was some food in the kitchen, but Michaels hadn't put it there and she barely knew how to cook it. There was some rice, and that was easy enough to to steam up and season with salt and pepper. Michaels gorged herself on huge batches, and was still endlessly starving.

It was four days into her exile that a knock finally came at the door. Soft and rapid, not a knock that Michaels recognized, but after everything that had changed why shouldn't the boy have a new knock?

There was no making herself pretty. Even after frantically running a brush through her lank hair and spritzing herself generously with lemon rose perfume, Dr. Michaels knew she was still a complete mess, and still in her ratty old gym shorts. But all the same, she did what could she could and happily threw the door open wide.

Lindsay Gregs yelped and took a hop backwards. Her eyes darted over Michaels' disheveled self for a moment before locking squarely on her own feet.

She was wearing the same baggy yellow sweatshirt she wore most days, the sleeves long enough to flop over her hands, a white bleach stain near the hem. For once the girl's backpack was on her back instead of of her front. In its place she clutched a bundle of stapled papers that she hugged to her breast like a baby.

"Lindsay!" Michaels half barked. She took a deep breath and leveled her tone. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm so sorry," Lindsay murmured at her feet. "So, so super sorry. I know you're, like, all sick right now...it's just..."

"Just spit it out!" Dr. Michaels said, harsher than she meant to.

Little Lindsay shoved the bundle of papers towards Dr. Michaels, still unable to meet her eyes. "It's, my, um, paper...women in the military? The one we were working on together? I did the interview, and, um, you gave me that extension and it was supposed to be due today...Jason said you wouldn't mind if I brought it by. You guys never mentioned you lived in the same building. Pretty crazy, heh!"

Michales nearly slammed the door in the girl's face. To think, Jason sending up his little bimbo to bug her when he clearly knew she was already in an emotional gutter! What was he thinking? Was this some kind of revenge? Was he trying to send some message that-

"I'm sorry!" Lindsay squeaked. "I'll go. You're mad at me, and I'm, like, really sorry!"

"What?" Michaels stammered. "No I'm not. Why would you say that?"

Lindsay hesitated. "Um, you're kinda glaring at me, Doctor. Like, right now."

She was, wasn't she? Michaels sighed and calmed her face as best she could.

"I'm just not doing so great at the moment, Lindsay," she said. "It's not your fault."

"Do you, um, need anything?" Lindsay asked quietly, trying her best to meet Dr. Michaels' eyes through her shag of yellow bangs. "Like Gatorade or medicine or something? I'm parked out front, I can go get you anything in, like, five minutes."

Michaels closed her eyes and took a deep breath before sighing long through her nose.

"What I need," she said, "is some coffee. You want some coffee? No, it's chai tea for you, right? Let's go. Give me a second to put on some real clothes and I'll buy you a tea, okay?"

Lindsay simply nodded numbly and stood with the same nervous expression in the hall until Michaels returned in black jeans and a long jacket.

Dr. Michales drove them to a nearby coffeehouse where she often bought a morning cup. There she holed up with Lindsay in a quiet corner, and they spend a little while going over her paper. It didn't take long. Lindsay had improved dramatically in the time Dr. Michaels had been working with her, and her essay was already half perfect. She was extremely proud of Lindsay, and told her so. The pathetic kid started leaking tears and glommed onto Michaels' side.

And then they talked, Michaels and Lindsay. They talked and talked. All morning at at the coffeehouse, then all afternoon just driving around town with no goal in mind.

It turned out that Lindsay wasn't quite as shy as she seemed, and had a lot to say about herself. She was a Graphics Arts major—English was only her minor. She wanted to be a character designer, or else a storyboard artist (the sketchbook she produced out of her backpack was really quite impressive). She loved horror movies and was an even bigger videogame dork than Jason. Lindsay said that, these days, she mostly listened to Celtic folk music and something called doom metal. She wanted to be a vegetarian, but never seemed able to pull it off. She was methodically working her way through every work of Dickens, chronologically, and was up to Little Dorrit. Lindsay had a remarkably lovely singing voice and an absolutely filthy sense of humor.

Lindsay spoke better French than Dr. Michaels ever had.

By early evening, Michaels found herself sitting in her car in the Jeffersonian parking lot, Lindsay draped comfortably over her shoulder, offering tips while she fiddled about with the girl's Gameboy, which apparently had two screens these days. Lindsay had managed to hook her on a game absurdly titled Castlevania that Michaels couldn't seem to stop playing, no matter how often she lost to the giant crab in the tower.

Finally, after the latest loss, Michaels roared and tossed the device into the corner of the car.

Linday giggled and bent double to retrieve it from under the car seat. '

"I'm sorry," Michaels said as Lindsay snapped upright. Lindsay just grinned and started to wave her off with a flippant hand. "No, no...I'm sorry I didn't come out for your twentieth birthday. That was a really big deal."

"It's okay," Linday assured her, nuzzling her shoulder. "I know you're really busy when classes are out."

"No," Michaels sighed. "Not really."

Michaels rested her chin against the steering wheel and gazed up at the purple clouds of a setting sun. Her eyelids fluttered, and Michaels rubbed her face before, she hoped, Lindsay could notice the tears that were about to spill down her cheeks.

Suddenly a warm hand landed over her own and Lindsay spoke against her shoulder, close to her ear. "Hey, what is it?" A nice little squeeze on her hand. "You were never sick, huh? It's something else. You're all messed up about something."

Michaels groaned and sat up. "I should have married Ted Barlow," she blurted.

"Ohh," Lindsay said, nodding. "Um, who is that?"

Michaels chuckled in despair. "Bio professor. Short and kind of cute in a lame way."

"Him! Right. Jason had him for, like, a semester." Lindsay narrowed her eyes. "So you love him?"

"I barely even like him," Michaels said. "I'm just pretty sure that I was supposed to marry him. We went out for a little bit when I first started teaching, and I fucked him once." Lindsay didn't bat an eye at this confession. "And that should have been it. Life should have been as easy as all that. The young professor meets the slightly older professor, they hit it off, get married. Etcetera. God, it would have been easy. I'd have a kid by now, maybe even two. That's the story I was supposed to live, what I'm suppose to be right now. But instead...instead I'm somewhere else entirely, and so utterly lost I can't think straight enough to leave my apartment without being coaxed."

Lindsay squeezed her hand tighter and petted the back of her head. "So you don't want the boring, normal story that's expected of you. Okay. The question is, what is it that you do want?"

"Exactly what I can't have" Michaels answered. "Not ever. Ever ever. I just couldn't be happy with what the world served to me on a platter. It was supposed to be so easy, but...It's just not what I want. No, what I want I want is impossible. What I want is what the world says I can't have. Not ever ever."

"I understand," Lindsay said. "I so understand! Like, so hard." Michaels cocked a confused eyebrow at the girl. Lindsay blinked at her for awhile before blushing slightly and averting her gaze. "Um, I'm gay. Like, a lesbian? You didn't know?" Michaels simply shook her head while silently feeling like history's biggest idiot. "Sorry. I usually think everyone knows. I forget there isn't, like, a huge L branded on my forehead since I came out. But what you're saying is so, like, how I felt for so long, the world saying I can't have what I knew was so right for me."

"So what changed?" Michaels asked softly.

"Well, for one I finally had sex with a girl, and it was super awesome. But mostly I just got mad and said fuck it. I wasn't hurting anyone, so fuck it. The world says you can't have what you want? What does the world know? Screw the world!"

Michaels chuckled. "Just that simple, huh?"

"Sure. Why shouldn't it be? I was the only thing standing in the way of just being happy already. And things are good now, even if I sometimes get an ugly look for, like, holding hands with my girlfriend. It's a lot better than when I was all messed up in high school and only Jason knew I was gay."

"He's a sweet guy, huh?" Michaels said with a small, fond smile.

"Yeah he is! He helped me get together with Azalea this semester, and she is so effin hot. We drifted apart for a little bit after graduation, but I'm really glad we're buds again. You two are kinda close, too, right? I mean, you hang together a lot around campus and stuff anyway, and he never shuts his hole about you."

Michaels nodded. "Such a little teacher's pet."

"Totally! You'd better watch out, I'm pretty sure he has a crush on you."

Dr. Michaels barked with laughter, loud and hard. She couldn't help it, even when Lindsay's brow knitted in confusion.

They talked for a little bit longer, and then Michaels walked Linday across the parking lot to her own car.

"Thanks for hanging out with me today," Michaels said. "And for the talk. I had a great time."

"Of course, dude! Anytime! It was awesome. You know you're, like, totally my favorite, right? I mean, I was right about to drop out of school before that time in your office when I started crying about being dumb, and you were so super nice. Seriously. So yeah, anytime you want to talk about anything..."

Michaels smiled and pulled Lindsay close, hugging her tight and pecking her on the temple. "You're a good kid, Lindsay."

The girl looked shy again for the first time all afternoon and positively glowed with pleasure.

"Hope, um, to see you at school again soon, Doctor," she said, fumbling for her keys in her backpack. "Feel better. There's plenty of time to get what you want. You're only, like, what? Thirty five? Thirty six?"

"Oh, Lindsay," Michaels sighed, turning away. "Just when I thought I liked you!"

The apartment was just as cold and lonely as she'd left it. Why did she have such a big place with just the one her to fill it? She was hungry and decided to make a lasagna for dinner. She knew how to make lasagna these days. But first she wandered in the dark over to her desk and tossed open the curtains covering the window. There was just enough twilight left to make out the iron table at the edge of the woods across the lawn. Michaels stared at it until there was nothing to see out the window but shadows and starlight.

"Fuck it," she said.

4

Friday was a dark day, the sky roiling gently in a full spectrum of grays and blacks. The air already smelled of the downpours that were sure to come, clean and alive. Already the clouds dampened the earth with a constant, light mist that rendered the world soft and tickled the skin.

It was absolutely gorgeous.

Dr. Michaels sat at the table, puffing a cigarette and sipping a beer as she read. It was a little warm for a December day, but by no means hot. Michaels wore a pair of jeans and V-neck tee, both black, relishing every cool breeze that brushed her chest and arms. Classes were already out for the week to give students extra study time before finals started after the weekend, and Michaels was perfectly happy to stay out here all day if need be.

Yet it was less than an hour before a pretty man with dirty brown hair came traipsing across the lawn towards her. He wore a light leather jacket, blue shirt, and dark corduroys, and was so very handsome and lovely that Michaels didn't even mind that he was clearly more of a boy than a man when he drew close.

"Sorry to interrupt," said the pretty boy, "but I'm a reader myself, and I'm curious about what has you so compelled."

Michaels grinned and held up her book so the cover was visible—a battered paperback of The DaVinci Code. Jason smacked his hand over his face and laughed.

"I can't believe you even own a copy of that," he said, sitting down.

"I found it on a bench," said Michaels. "I wasn't going to risk a real book getting rained on." She drank from her beer then held the can out to Jason. "Sip?"

"I'm not twenty one, y'know."

"Yeah, because that's what's going to get me in trouble with you."

Jason had a sip, then a few drags off Michaels' cigarette when she passed that, too, just as he had so many times on so many afternoons at this table during that long ago summer.

Suddenly Michaels' hand darted out and she sank her nails into Jason's forearm, eliciting a sharp hiss.

"What were you thinking?" she said, smiling a wolfish smile. "What made you think a teenager could hit on a grown ass woman?"

"I had just graduated near the top of my class, gotten into a good school, was living on my own for the first time..." Jason shrugged. "I was feeling cocky, and you were just so sexy with your glasses and short hair and your books. And hey, it all worked out." Tentatively, afraid all of a sudden, Jason added, "...Right?"

Michaels let go of the kid's arm and put out her cigarette. "Come on," she said as she stood up. "Let's take a walk."

The woods were beautiful. So much more enormous and raw than Michaels had thought possible considering they were in a city. The canopy seemed to be a mile above, a constantly swaying green universe that created a symphony of rustles. The trees produced their own special rain, collecting the mist on their leaves and dripping cold, enormous drops of sweet water at their own irregular pace. The light was dim and amorphous, changing with the winds and making the shadows dance.

After a few minutes of admiring this beauty, Michaels reached out and took Jason's hand, twining her fingers with his. She heard his breath catch just before he squeezed her hand tight. Had they every done this before? No, Michaels realized, they hadn't. Everything they'd done together, all the ways they had shared their bodies, and this was the first time they had held hands. It made Michaels feel warm and nervous.

For his part, Jason walked along in silent ecstasy, flicking smiles at her every now and then. He seemingly thought this joyous moment was fragile, broken and lost forever if he opened his mouth. It was sweet, and Michaels allowed it, even though she already knew how ironclad his hand in hers was.

"It's...a lot, you know," Dr. Michaels said quietly after what felt like an hour of happy strolling, and probably was. "It always will be. I'm old enough to be your mother."

Jason snorted with laughter and kissed the back of her hand. "No you aren't! What kind of kid were you, having children at ten?"

Michaels laughed herself. "Okay! Your babysitter then, at least! Or a young aunt. Ten years, though. That's the point. It will always be ten years."

"Closer to eleven, actually." Michaels slapped the boy upside his head. Repeatedly. "Sorry! Teasing! The point is, I don't care. I don't even think about it. I'm nineteen, you're twenty nine...who cares? You could be seventy nine and I would still love you just as much."

"That's total bullshit," she said, and kissed his cheek, "but I love it."

Jason chuckled and nudged her, beaming with the most gorgeous smile. Michaels grinned back and nudged him even harder. He hip bumped her, and she bumped back harder. Suddenly his fingers were wriggling at her legs, knowing how ticklish she was behind the knees. Michaels shoved him and sprinted away. Jason found her and she shoved him again, and soon they were off and running, chasing and shoving and tickling in a silly game that had no rules.

Before long Michaels tripped, falling to the damp grass near a fat, old oak. And just as Jason trotted near, ready to tickle her into submission, he stumbled over one of the oak's root's and slammed to the damp earth next to her. Michaels wrestled him down and straddled his lap. They laughed and panted on each other for a bit, Jason with his face against her chest, Michaels with her smiling lips against Jason's scalp.

"I love you, Jason," Michaels panted into the boy's ear before shoving him down with both hands.

Jason gasped for a few seconds, winded from the blow, while an enormous smile parted his mouth. Wider and wider, in an exaggerated mask of glee.

"Ugh, wipe the smile off your face, you embarrassing dweeb!" Michaels sneered, giving the kid a good slap that failed put so much as a dent in his smile. "Of course I love you." Michaels kissed her fingertips and pressed them gently against Jason's lips. "Of course, kiddo."

Jason cupped his hands over Michaels', moving her willing fingers from his lips to his cheek and cooing with pleasure. "You have a pretty mean way of showing it, lady," he said with a grin.

Michaels laughed and gave the kid a sharp backhand. She felt a quick, hard throb from Jason's lap against her crotch in response.

"I was just mad," she said. "Mad about so many things...Mostly about you, I suppose. I was pissed at you for being young, and pissed at me for not being very good at adulthood, and just so...so goddamn mad. And I didn't have anything concrete to lash out at except you. And so...so here we are."

"Here we are."

Michaels stroked the boy's face, softly at first, then harder, digging her nails into the his cheek and feeling herself throb against his lap. Slowly, she slipped her fingers into Jason's mouth one by one, savoring the pull of his soft lips and the warmth of his tongue as it teased each digit in turn.

Fingers were not enough, though. Michaels flung herself atop Jason, drinking deep from his mouth, kissing him with sloppy smacks and slurps like she was fifteen again and guessing at what making out was supposed to be. She slipped a hand between Jason's legs, squeezing his hard cock through the fabric of his pants. It was twisted at an odd angle, imprisoned against his clothes, the poor thing. Michaels started working at Jason's belt, determined to set it free.

But Jason stopped her with a hand on her elbow and whispered, "Not here." Michaels continued kissing at his neck, but growled with displeasure. "I've never seen anyone else out here, but we're sill right in the middle of the main path here."

"Do you know a place?" Michaels asked.

Jason nodded, and they both scrambled to their feet. Jason held out his hand, and Michaels took it, and they both began to run through the trees, giggly and lust drunk and desperate to reach a bit of privacy so they could tear into each other's bodies. She really was a teenager again, Michaels thought, desperate and nervous and so silly horny that she couldn't help but snicker aloud at herself.

Yet Michaels was able to maintain enough adult decorum to truly appreciate the little clearing that Jason had brought them to. It was a soft, grassy little knoll that sloped gently toward a stream that splashed over the rocks and burbled in a tiny waterfall as it rushed along its way.

Michaels knelt at the edge of stream and dipped her hand into the cold, rushing water. She scooped a small, crisp sip to her lips and drizzled the remaining drops over her chest as she began to shrug off her T-shirt.

"Strip!" she ordered, turning around in her wet bra as she unzipped her jeans.

Jason was already naked, rain beading his hard, perfect body, his cock throbbing upright and ready.