Mixed signals

About five minutes later you made your way out of the bathroom, uneasily returning to the booth and your now fairly drunken teachers. Miss Esposita smiled at you with her eyes, but otherwise remained nonchalant. Miss Wells squinted at you with a bemused expression. “Jeez, George. D’you fall in or something?”

“Sorry,” you replied automatically. “Those shots…just cut right through me.”

You slid back into the booth and Miss Card shot you a concerned look, but you just waved it off. The conversation around the table turned to some random thing about the principal and budget cuts, but you only half-paid attention. Your eyes kept drifting over to Carla. It was insane how she could just suck you off like that, then come and sit here with the others like it was nothing. This was a sexually confident woman, far different from any of the girls you went to school with, and the thought of what else she might do made your head spin.

Eventually the night wore on, more drinks were served and eventually Miss Wells declared that she was done. “I’m tapping out,” she croaked, “I need water, greasy food, and then bed, pronto.”

“Come on then,” Carla said, helping her friend to her feet. “We’ll catch an uber.” She looked at Miss Card, “you guys ok getting home?”

“Yeah,” Miss Card answered. She had been drinking, but she was considerably clearer eyed than the rest of the group. “It’s only a ten minute walk home, George’ll escort me, right?”

You blinked. “Ah, y-yeah, right.”

Carla nodded at Laura, “Call me in the morning, yes?” She then gave you an enigmatic smile. “And you, stay out of trouble.”

Miss Wells, looking green under the gills, waved at you both and walked out of the bar with Carla. You and Miss Card finished your drinks, watched a little tv, then made your own way home. The walk was pleasant, the streets quiet and the moon shone brightly from behind a few clouds. The two of you made light banter for a while, laughing at Amanda’s antics, or Carla’s bawdy jokes until eventually coming before her apartment building.

“I had fun tonight,” Miss Card told you, smiling. “It’s good to let off some steam and just…let go, right?”

“Absolutely,” you replied. She was standing so close to you, her eyes fixed on yours with what looked to be genuine affection. You gave her a smile. “I love hanging out with you, Laura.”

“Me too,” she winced, “I mean, I love hanging out with you too. It’s just…”

She bit her bottom lip, and there was a flash of uncertainty. For several heartbeats she seemed to be weighing something up in her mind, and then, quickly, she leant up and kissed you. Not quite on the lips, but on the corner of the mouth as an awkward half-measure. “I’ll uh…I’ll see you on Monday, good night!”

And with that she hurried inside her apartment building, leaving you standing there, confused. What the hell was going on with the women in George Hanson’s life?