About a time I was tempted

“I asked you to tell me about one of the times you were tempted, Mr. P.” Her eyes lock boldly with mine. “I know you never did anything like that, but you must have at least thought about it, right?” When I hesitate, she pounces like a cat. “Was it a student of yours, or someone you saw on the streets or read about...come on, Mr. P, 'fess up.” I take another sip of coffee as I considered what Alison was asking. I had been tempted of course, but years of experience as a teacher had made talking about this particular subject pretty taboo. With a sigh and resigned grin, I set my coffee cup back down.

“I taught Catalina as a Sophomore; she was smart and pretty but not in the way that made me get any ideas.” I began and Alison bit her lip as she tried to hide her excitement. “Not until I saw her at the Winter Dance her Senior year and noticed how nicely she had filled out.”

“What did she look like, did she wear a sexy dress?” It is an indication of how much of an impression Grace had made on me that I had no trouble at all recalling the sparkling backless dress that made it clear that she was braless under the deep plunging neckline.

Alison listened with sparkling eyes as I described Catalina's dark hair, caramel colored skin and the small golden cross that had rested between the swell of her golden breasts. I wasn't the only one who noticed the way she looked in the dress, and more than a few of the boys got themselves in trouble with their dates when they were caught staring at the stunning Latina.

“It was so unlike her. She normally dressed pretty conservatively, and I don't think a lot of the boys even knew how pretty she was until that night.” I explained. “Her family was first generation from Mexico, and I remember wondering if her parents knew what she was wearing to the dance.”

“I bet her date liked it.” Alison asks breathlessly. “Do you think he was expecting to get lucky?”

“Probably. I gather he wanted a lot more than she was ready to let him have.” I explain, “They got into a fight on the dance floor and Catalina ran off, pretty much right into my arms. I was stationed at the coat room, to make sure none of the couples slipped inside to make out.” Alison clearly wants to hear the rest of the story.

“Go on, Mr. P. What happened?”

“Well, she ended up sobbing against my chest as I held her.” There really wasn't much else to say. “I hugged her gently and assured her that her life would only get better, and that even the stupid high school boys would eventually mature and learn to appreciate how wonderful she was.”

“Did you kiss her?” Clearly Alison was intrigued by my description of the old memory.

“No, Angel, I told you nothing like that happened.” It's the truth, but I remember gently brushing back a strand of her dark hair and cupping her tear-streaked cheek and wondering if her shiny lips were as soft and full as they looked. The way she had looked up at me in that dark cloakroom, made it pretty clear that I could have kissed her and more, if I chose to.

“But you wanted to, didn't you Mr. P?” I looked across the table at where Alison was staring at me with her expressive doe-eyes. I'd never told anyone about this moment until now, not even Fran, did I really want to share this secret with a woman even younger than my boys?