Just Another Saturday Afternoon

Heather reclines in the wrought-iron seat as her skin soaks in the UV rays.

Aint this the life she wonders.

A smile creeps along her face. It’s not often that she gets to enjoy moments like this, sitting on the back porch in a tank top and sweats, listening to the sound of nature all around her. Her blonde locks ruffle in the cool breeze. Aint this the life, indeed.

ahem

She snaps out of her daydream and stares at Mr. Doe sitting across from her, appearing very much disinterested in her thoughts.

“Having fun?”

“Ah’m sorry, Mr. Doe. I just got sidetracked and…”

“You can get sidetracked later.” He grins. “Right now I want you to concentrate on the matter at hand.”

He shoves several books towards her.

“I thought we was goin’ to fool around, and stuff.” Heather pouts.

“I didn’t bring you here just to do that.” Her teacher reminds her. “You got a paper due, remember?”

The blank expression on her face does not give him reason for hope.

“You did skim over the material in the car, didn’t you?”

“Um…” Heather casts her eyes downward. “What happens if I say no?”

Mr. Doe sighs.

“First you come to me for help, and then you spurn it. Do you want my help or don’t you? Which is it?”

“Of course I want your help.”

“Then stop acting like a whore and getting rea—“

Her teacher recoils as she slaps him, the red welt on his face clearly visible.

“Bitch! Why’d you do that!?”

“I’m so sorry.” Heather gasps. “Need some ice? A Band-Aid?”

“I’ll be fine.” Mr. Doe grunts. “Just tell me what you remember from your notes.”

Heather tries to think back to the torrid session at the Library. Between the dick-sucking and the aching need to fondle her own cave, she barely recalled a word he said. Something about Bai Duc and a guy named Alex, but the rest was static, white noise. God she’d give anything to be back there, pleasuring him forever.

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugs. “Wish I could be of more help.”

Her teacher slams his fists against the table.

“Damn it, Heather! You got a paper due in three weeks. This is real life, not a game!”

His face grows beet red as he looks away.

“What’s wrong? Something I said?”

Mr. Doe hisses.

“Your generation disgusts me, all your primping, and ego, and feelings of entitlement. You’re always the first to extend your hand whenever you need a handout, but you never make something for yourself. And people say my generation was the lazy one…”

Heather huffs.

“I come here to spend a relaxing evening with…” She bites her tongue. “with one of the few adults I ever trusted, and instead I get a lecture! Geez!”

“You’re eighteen! What do you know You’re just a child!”

“Says the man who still needs Playboy to get it up. No wonder your wife left you…”
Heather is aghast as Mr. Doe turns around and grabs her wrist. Hard.

“What are you doing?” She grimaces. “Let go of me!”

“If you ever use that tone of voice again, young lady, you’ll have more to worry about then just a broken wrist. And don’t even go there with my wife, okay?”
Heather breaks free and sprints, dashing through backyards at a fast clip.

“Where are you going?” Her teacher yells.

“Somewhere away from you!”

Hope she ends up in a ditch. He thinks to himself as he wonders into the kitchen and retrieves a beer. Mr. Doe returns to the patio and slumps, simmering. Should’ve known that girl was trouble. No sense getting involved with white trash.

Ain’t nothing but heartache.

He takes a few sips and gazes at the swaying trees as the sun goes down. Weatherman said it’ll get to forty tonight. And the wind chill…What if she freezes to ****? What if she stumbles and falls into a ravine? What if…What if…

He grabs his keys and bolts toward his car, barely containing his desire to step on the gas as the garage door slides up. He can’t stop thinking the worst as he speeds through the subdivision.

I should never have touched her.

He steers through winding roads, keeping an eye out for a blond teen in a white tank top and black sweats, running for her life. But for the lump in his throat, he would feel the same if the roles were reversed. Just my fuckin’ luck he curses under his breath.

As the street stretches out before him, his stomach churns. Suppose she’s nowhere to be found? Suppose someone picked her up and… He banishes the thought out of his mind. No way could he admit that possibility to himself. Besides, what would he tell her parents? That some skeezy **** got a hold of her because he got into an argument and let her run away?

The affair would be the least of his problems.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots a young woman roughly matching Heather’s description. He slows down and honks, signaling her to stop as he pulls over.

“Need a lift?”

“Not from you!” She snaps back.

That’s Heather, alright.

“C’mon. It’s getting dark.”

“Are you deaf? Get away! All you want to do is fuck me!”

“And you think 99.9 of the rest of the male population doesn’t?”

Heather pauses.

“You know I’m right.” Mr. Doe sighs. “At least hear me out, and If you don’t like what I have to say, you can move on and forget we ever had this conversation.”

Heather hugs herself as she looks pensively at the sky.

“It is getting cold…”

Mr. Doe pulls her close as she climbs into the passenger seat. The embrace lasts for several minutes before they break away.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He wipes away a tear.

Heather is no worse for wear.

“God, I’m such an idiot.” She cries as they drive off.

“I’m hungry.” Her teacher confesses. “How do you feel about pizza?”

“That sounds good, actually.”