Rushing southwest across Illinois, April Williams had made the long drive from Chicago, her thoughts and feelings alternating from quiet triumph to keen disappointment. The mucky, humid heat of the last days of August had not helped her to strike any sort of emotional balance. She had fought sweat, sun glare and traffic all the long miles-having set out to complete the drive in a single day. By nightfall heat, humidity and weariness had proved too much and she had stopped at a rambling motel, unable to resist its promise of air-conditioned comfort.
But yesterday's insecurities had vanished by this morning. After a sound sleep she looked through the window on the shifting green-gold pattern of sunlight through maple leaves. She stretched long arms out wide, glorying in the lifting of her taut, firm breasts against thin, summery pajama tops. She sucked in her belly, tensed every muscle, new vitality coursing through her. Enthusiasm and hope surged back. She relaxed and took a deep, pleased breath. Another hour's drive-fifty miles or less-stood between her and her first job. By tonight she could honestly claim to be part of an ancient, honorable-if slightly underpaid-profession.
As of tonight, so-far unknown people would say of her, April Williams? Oh, she teaches science at the high school.
April's full, dark lips broke in a pleased smile at the thought. She jumped out of bed. Slender fingers deftly loosened buttons and the pajama tops sailed onto the bed. Air and sun caressed her bare white shoulders, shapely back and full breasts.
Abruptly she realized that she stood in full view of anyone who might come into the deserted motel court.
She gasped, swept up the tops again and held them across her breasts as she jumped to the window and drew the long drapes. She had forgotten until this moment the constant going and coming of motel guests last night. Now she frowned as full memory flooded back. She moved thoughtfully to the bed and sat down on its edge.
From the time she had driven in, showered, changed clothes and had a dinner of sorts in the little cafe adjoining the motel office she had witnessed almost constant muted activity about her. People, some of them young, had come and gone, many surreptitiously. But as she had lingered over after-dinner coffee, she had seen a hot rod whip down the highway, make the turn into the motel drive with dangerous speed and come to a rocking stop before the office with no effort at secrecy.
She remembered how she had held her cup poised as she had realized the boy and girl in the car were no more than that-adolescents, no older than the pupils she expected to teach. The boy had gone into the office while the girl, dressed in shorts and a brief halter that had barely covered breasts surprisingly full and rich for so young a girl, had waited in the car. The boy had soon returned, jumped into the car and rolled it sedately to the far end of the court. A moment later he and the girl had disappeared into one of the units.
April had been unpleasantly surprised. Adults cheated in places like this-cheated on morals, convention, each other and themselves. But this place catered to kids....
She had heard other cars drive in and out of the court, the crunch of gravel under tires clear in the night. She had listened to occasional loud male laughter-the sounds grew younger, apparently, as the night wore on-a girl's voice raised in mock protest, the faint slamming of a distant door.
What sort of a place had she chanced on? The motel had looked inviting when she had arrived-but she had wondered if it were one those "hot-pillow" operations she had heard about.
Now the court was silent. April shook her head, driving away her speculations of the night before. She might never see this place again. Forget it, she commanded herself.
She dropped the pajama tops again, kicked her long legs out of the trousers and her eager acceptance of the day returned. She hummed as she pulled a bathing cap over her dark hair, turned the shower faucets in the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature.
She stood beneath the needle drive of the water, eyes closed. The water stung her shoulders, caressed the rest of her, streaming down the deep canyon between her breasts, over her flat stomach and full, rich thighs. She flipped off the hot and gasped at the tingling shock of the cold. In a moment, she turned off the water and toweled vigorously. The water seemed also to have rinsed her thoughts-how good to be twenty-four with an MA in education, a state teaching credential and a contract!
She straightened and caught her slender reflection in the full-length door mirror. She paused, hazel eyes appraising well-formed feet, tapering legs, the curve of hip and thighs, rounded breasts and then her face, oval and young, eager for-what?
Her eyes steadied. She wanted love, of course-real love, not the lust she had once seen when a man had seen her naked, like this. She had not found love in what had followed but she still wanted to feel a man's tenderness and need for her. She wanted his hands on her breasts and legs-and she wanted to be possessed.
She smiled. Perhaps she would find the man she wanted in this new life. He might be waiting even now at the end of her trip. The thought clouded over-what or whom would she find in a small industrial prairie town? She made an effort to snap out of her morning dreaming. She returned to her bedroom, moving briskly, efficiently now as a teacher should.
As she dressed, her eyes fell on an envelope in the open travel case. The fateful pages of her teaching contract were folded into it. Who had been that handsome, nice young man who had interviewed her-Judson Gray? Yes, that had been the name. April found herself wondering-was Judson Gray married?
Once more she snapped out of dreaming and swiftly completed dressing. She repacked her bag, carefully put on make-up. The moment she stepped out of her air-conditioned room, the day's moist heat wrapped around her. By the time she had placed the bag in her small hardtop, she felt she should go back and shower again.
An hour or so later, she saw the town sign. An arrow directed her off the expressway onto a nearly deserted two-lane highway. About a mile ahead, sunlight glinted on the windows of houses on the outskirts of town. On both sides of the highway corn stood high and green. She passed bare fields where wheat stood in shocks. The first houses of the town loomed beyond weathered billboards. April slowed her speed as the highway became a street.
She stopped for a traffic light, waited impatiently for it to change, wondering why the town needed one. She saw no traffic. Rolling on, she passed a long, low factory building, its front a solid procession of glass windows. The structure had an air of emptiness, of disuse. Its small parking lot, bounded by a meshed steel fence, was bare and bleak, its blackness broken only by white parking lines.
She drove through the main business section. None of the buildings were over three stories but they seemed to trap and concentrate the heat between them. People moved sluggishly along the walks or stood under awnings. Inertia permeated the town and April sensed its stillness was not wholly caused by hot weather. She sensed defeat in the air. She had not noticed anything of the kind in June when she had made several trips here for talks with the school board.
She threaded the business district and, a few blocks farther, pulled into the curb before the long, sprawling high school. The building looked deserted but the big main doors stood open. April cut the motor, worked at powder and lipstick, felt the powder instantly runnel with sweat. She smoothed her light cotton skirt, adjusting it snugly to waist and hips.
She mounted the steps and walked through the doors, hesitated a second, trying to remember where the school office had been. A few steps down the hall, a young man watched her. Light fell on his ruggedly handsome. face, broad shoulders and deep chest. She realized that, for all his size and build, he was young-perhaps nineteen-but there was an earthy male set to his jaw and chin, to the focus of his eyes on her legs.
More than her legs, she suddenly realized. Standing as she was with the wide doors open behind her, bright light must stream through the light cotton skirt like an X-ray, clearly outlining everything from knee to hips.
She walked past him, head and chin high, sensed that he turned to look after her. She found the school office a few doors down the corridor and entered. The few desks beyond the counter were empty and a door to an inner office stood open. A woman standing behind the counter looked up as April entered.
"I'm April Williams. I'm to teach here this year. I understand someone reserved an apartment for me in town and I could get the address here."
The older woman smiled. "Of course. Just a moment." She went to one of the desks, took papers from a tray, returned and handed April a slip. "See Mrs. Peg Mason at this address."
April accepted the paper. "It's kind of you to do this for me."
"We're glad to. When we manage to get a good new teacher, we try to make things smooth as we can."
April glanced at the paper. "How do I find this place?"
"Oh, that's right. You wouldn't know." The woman looked beyond April, blinked with surprise. "Bill Collins, what are you doing here?"
April turned and saw the young man she had just passed in the hall. He must have followed her. Her eyes widened but the boy ignored her now. He smiled at the woman behind the counter.
"Just looking around, Miss Evards."
"In August?"
"Just two weeks to school's start, ma'am. I'm sort of getting used to it again." His eyes flicked to April, away. "And finding out what's new."
Miss Evards sniffed. "Well, you're here. Can you show Miss Williams to-"
April cut in. "I'm sure I can find it."
"Nonsense, Miss Williams. He can take you there in no time. Oh, this is Bill Collins, one of our seniors. Bill, Miss Williams is a new teacher."
Bill acknowledged the introduction politely but his eyes were mocking. April tried to protest again.
Mrs. Evards brushed her words aside. "No point in anyone getting lost in this awful heat."
"Well-all right. And thank you again."
"Not at all. If you'll phone or drop in tomorrow, I'll give you the staff meetings and school opening dates. Oh, and the Pep Day ceremonies, too. Bill, take care of Miss Williams."
"Yes, ma'am!" He stepped aside as April turned.
Outside, she indicated her car at the curb. Bill Collins nodded and walked beside her, politely opened the driver's door. She slid under the wheel, her skirt briefly hitching above her knees. She hastily pulled it down but caught the swift glance in his eyes. It was gone in a moment.
He circled the car. As he opened the door on the far side, April said crisply, "There's really no need for you to do this. I'm sure I can find the place."
He grinned. "No sweat, ma'am. When Miss Evards gives me a job I do it, no matter what. Nice lady-but she can be tough when she wants to." He dropped into the seat beside her, closed the door. "Straight ahead about eight blocks and then turn left."
She pulled away from the curb. Bill Collins eased back in the seat but did not slouch. A silence grew between them but now and then April caught his glance at her face, her legs, the curve of her breasts. His unspoken appraisal seemed to her louder than words and subtly she was pleased. Her own reaction bothered her. Why should she more than notice a high school senior?
The heat increased her restlessness. She had to relieve inner annoyance and pressure with talk.
"Have you worked this summer?"
"There's nothing to do here."
"Really? The town looks large enough to have all sorts of jobs."
"Big? Sure. But no jobs. People are just waiting, that's all. There's no work in town-for anyone."
She was honestly surprised. "That sounds awful. What happened?"
"Oh, lots of things. Things got tough when a big missile and plane project was cut off by the government last May-just before school let out. That closed our factory tight, until some new deal comes along. Then there's the expressway. Completed a year ago." He pointed ahead. "Next street. Turn left."
She nodded. "But I'd think the expressway would be a boost."
He gave a dry chuckle. "To get here, you have to get off the expressway. Most people have no reason to stop-or even see the place. Used to be, people had to drive right through town. Now they don't even notice it. We've lost all the travel and tourist trade." She made the turn and he said, "Four blocks up."
The street where April was going to live was definitely residential. Great trees lined both sides of the quiet way, branches arching and meeting over the pavement. Big houses sat well back on wide lawns, April immediately felt the charm of the street.
Bill Collins asked abruptly, "What'll you teach?"
"Chemistry-science in general."
"General-that's freshman stuff. I took it four years ago-no, almost five."
"Five? Did you flunk?"
He grinned. "Quit. There was work then. Came back last year. Chemistry, huh? I guess I'll be in your class."
"That's nice." She felt doubtful.
He pointed to a gleaming white house ahead and to the right. "That's the place."
April pulled to the curb, looked across the wide lawn to the house. It was old but glittered with new paint, the dazzling white broken by green shutters, a deep high porch that ran the full front of the structure. Sunlight, broken by oak trees, dappled the lawn. There was an air of comfort and spaciousness about the place that April instantly liked.
Bill uncoiled his legs. "Got luggage?"
"In the trunk."
He held out his hand for the keys and she gave them to him. He quickly slipped out and went to the back of the car. By the time she had alighted, he had the travel case, overnight bag and briefcase in hands or tucked under his arms. He gestured with his head toward the house and April went up the walk ahead of him.
As she mounted the steps to the porch, the screen door opened. A woman came out. She was blond, about five years older than April, with a voluptuous figure literally poured into turquoise capri pants and sheer blouse, through which the straining brassiere clearly showed.
"You'd be Miss Williams? Welcome. I'm Peg Mason. You're a pleasant surprise."
"Why, thank you."
Peg looked beyond April and her ripe lips moved in a crooked smile. "Show's over, Bill. Put the luggage here on the porch. We'll take care of it."
Bill placed the luggage at the top of the steps, grinning. He turned to April. "How about the dresses and stuff in the back seat of the car?"
"That's all, Bill," Peg said flatly.
Bill surrendered with a shrug. "Okay. Just helping. See you around, Miss Williams."
"Thanks, Bill. Are you sure I can't drive you back to the school?"
He hesitated and Peg cut in. "Bill needs the exercise and you need a shower."
Bill grinned again and, with a careless wave of his hand, walked to the street. He glanced back over his shoulder, then strolled on. Peg Mason watched him a moment and then turned to April.
"Bill's the high school Casanova-the teen stallion." April's eyes grew round. Peg boldly looked her over. "And you have just the looks and figure to give him ideas."
April flushed and bent to the luggage to cover her confusion. There was something disconcerting about Peg Mason.
Peg swept up the travel case, walked ahead of April to the door and held it for her. Again her eyes swept over April as she walked into the comparatively dark and cool spacious hallway. Suddenly April knew what had bothered her but she instantly rejected it as impossible. Yet, as she turned to the wide stairs Peg indicated, she could not be sure the thought was as fantastic as it seemed.
Peg's eyes had held that same appreciative gleam that April had seen in Bill's. Both boy and woman had mentally undressed her.
CHAPTER TWO
In his room that night, Bill Collins shrugged into a light, flowered shirt and immediately felt the moisture pull the material to his bare chest. He bent to the mirror and passed a comb through his hair, straightened and critically considered himself.
His glance strayed to a photo cut from a magazine-a pin-up of some unknown girl with sultry eyes, parted lips and rounded up-thrust breasts. It had evoked a few vaguely distressed remarks from his mother and understanding grins from his father and older brother. Now looking at it, Bill suddenly thought of the new teacher.
Think you could step up to a real wise one, man? Think you could handle her? Bill grinned sardonically at his reflection and felt a tingle of excitement.
He flipped out the light as he left the room. He paused, hearing voices coming up the stairs from the living room. One was his father's, the other was vaguely familiar. His soft sneaker soles made no sound as he slowly descended the stairs.
He stopped when the visitor's voice said, "The new teacher came today."
Bill's father grunted. "We're lucky to get her. Old enough to retire, I suppose?"
"No, young. Her first teaching job."
"Inexperienced. Well, with what the town can pay, I suppose we can't kick. Pretty?"
"As I remember seeing her at the interviews last spring."
"Well, that ought to interest you, Jud."
At last Bill identified the visitor as Judson Gray.
Judson owned the town's largest department store and was a big wheel with the chamber of commerce. Bill moved on down the stairs.
Jud said, "She took the job. That's all I care. But right now I'm interested in the factory. When will it open again?"
Bill stopped just beyond the archway leading to the living room. His father sat in a big chair, a tall gin and tonic on the small table beside him. The old man's voice became sharp and petulant.
"I wish to hell I knewl"
"We can't wait much longer. That's why I say forget these government contracts and let's manufacture things we can use around here, sell and distribute through our stores and across the state."
"That's a crazy idea."
"You said so at the last meeting, Collins. But think it over. The factory people have the equipment. The town could lend them money. We could set up adult retraining classes in the high school. By the first of the year the factory would be busy again."
"Jud, how can we do it? Lend them whose money-on a chance? How do we know it'll work?"
"As a community we still have credit. We need payroll, employment. If we don't get it people will move out. And the kids-idle all summer and maybe for years to come. They'll go delinquent if they haven't already."
Bill knew this was not the time to wheedle money from his father. He scuffed around to make a noise and then moved across the archway to the front door. He saw Judson Gray, tall and slender, standing near his father's chair. Jud was dark and intense, about thirty-five, with deep-set eyes and firm chin.
Bill's father called sourly, "Bill, can't you stay home at night?"
"You're busy, dad, and mom's at her club."
"Well-try to get in before daybreak."
"Yes, sir."
Bill hurried out to his car waiting in the drive beside the house. He did not feel truly safe from restriction until he drove away at a sedate speed. Around the corner, he fed gas to the souped-up motor under the battered hood. Tires squealed as he whipped around the next corner with a roar that shattered the night stillness.
An hour later he impatiently patted his foot in rhythm to the record music blasting from the jukebox. Every booth at Tiny's was filled with teenagers. The walls of the long narrow room vibrated with loud talk, laughter and the beating rhythms of twist and bossa nova. Clair Engels sat beside Bill in the booth and across the table Hal Danton and Joyce James devoured hamburgers.
Now and then Joyce surreptitiously gave Bill the eye and he knew he could make it with her. But Clair's bare soft leg pressed against his under the booth and she would move it slightly against his as he moved his hand over the soft, swelling upper leg.
Bill told them about the new teacher.
Clair looked narrowly at him out of sea-green eyes. "She's pretty?"
"Man, a looker!"
"Maybe you got ideas?"
His eyes traveled boldly over the taut mounds her breasts made against her blouse and he grinned. "Not as long as you're around."
Joyce spoke up. "We'll have to watch you, Bill."
He turned his head. Joyce's soft eyes locked with his and, for an instant, her lips and eyes were absolutely still. She took a deep breath, pushed out her breasts-everything about her spelled out invitation. But Hal was there, of course, and Joyce ought to have known Bill could not make a pass here and now.
Bill's eyes cut away before Clair could notice and he said impatiently, "Let's cut out."
Clair instantly picked it up. "You said it."
"Where?" Hal asked.
"Down to the Corners?" Bill suggested.
Joyce looked a little frightened and uncertain. The Corners was a dance spot ten miles out of town where minors could buy liquor under the counter and sign any old name in the registry book for one of the box-like rooms in the shabby motel court that adjoined it. Nick Archos never asked questions so long as he could see the money.
Hal shook his head. "Wish I could, Bill."
"Why not?"
"Why-the old man ain't worked in a month and he's pretty tight with money. I'm lucky to have gas in the hot rod."
Joyce looked relieved. "I'd rather stay here-or just drive around."
Bill thought, She's a teaser-full of come-on but she'd scream murder, if you took her to one of Nick's rooms....
He hid his thoughts under a stubborn fling of the head. "Okay, might as well break it up. I'll run you home, Clair."
"Big deal, party poop I"
She stood up and Bill slid out of the booth. The two girls went ahead and Bill appreciatively watched the swing of Clair's hips in the brief, tight linen shorts she wore. Out on the walk, the couples parted.
Bill helped Clair into his car and drove off with a roar of motor and screech of tires. He made sure he was well out of sight of Hal and Joyce when he slowed the pace and grinned.
"Who's a party poop?"
Clair giggled, snuggled to him so that he could feel the giving softness of her young breasts against his bicep.
"I got the message. The Comers?"
"For a drink at least."
"At least," she echoed and her hand dropped to his leg, moved along it and then her fingers curled and tightened into his flesh. He felt a warmth surge through him.
"Save it, sugar, for when it counts."
He swung around the next comer and then, by side streets reached the old highway at the edge of town. They raced out into the country under silvery moonlight There was little traffic.
They came to the Corners. The main building was low and dark despite the high, flashing neon sign above it. Twenty or thirty cars fined the area before it and Bill could hear the jukebox beat even through the walls. He coasted into a space between two cars, cut the motor.
As he twisted around in the seat Clair came into his arms. Her body arched to his, tight nipples pressing against the thin material of his shirt. Her tongue darted between his lips as she strained and moved against him.
Bill's hand traveled along her leg, feeling the vibrant flesh and she made a soft, muffled sound of pleasure through the kiss. He felt passion rise as she broke away and, in the dim light, he saw her sensuous smile.
He said thickly, "I'll get the bottle. Coming with me?"
She gave him a swift, fight kiss. "Can't we cut the jive bit?"
"Sure. Why not?"
He threw the car door open and jumped out. Sound and voices blasted at him as he entered the main building. The dance floor looked packed and every dark booth seemed filled. Bill worked his way to a bar where sweating waiters served soft drinks, sandwiches. Nick Archos, beefy, dark and oily, caught Bill's wink and came to him at the end of the bar.
"What's doing, kid?"
"I got friends want a room, Nick."
"Sure. Sign 'em up at the office. Bring in the card. Anything else?"
"They're dry."
Nick frowned. "These friends, they ain't kids?"
"Nick, you know me."
"Okay, kid. I'll send it to their room. They got money?"
Bill grinned. "I'll pay now. And take the bottle with me.
A little later Bill unlocked a door of one of the small cabins beyond the dancehall. He flicked on a switch. Light revealed a room bare except for a wide, thinly covered bed, a chair and a dresser. A blind had been drawn over the single window.
Bill closed the door and turned to Clair. She came and moved sensuously against him, hip to hip and again her tongue explored his mouth. Still holding him, she moved again and a slender arm extended over his shoulder, sought and found the switch.
The light snapped off and she stepped away. A faint glow came through the thin blind, enough for him to see her slender shape as she moved to the bed and sat on its edge. He took a bottle from a plain brown bag he had brought, snapped the plastic seal. He handed the bottle to Clair as he dropped on the bed beside her.
She took hardly more than a sip, returned it. He took a deep swallow of the fiery liquor then placed the bottle carefully on the floor beside the bed. He twisted around to her and she eagerly met him. His hand came up under the swelling mound of a breast and she lifted it to his fingers. He felt her tense as he began to work on the buttons of her blouse.
She dropped back on the bed, pulling him down with her. Her tongue darted into his mouth and she shuddered as his hand caressed the flat, young stomach, under the belt of the shorts. With a swift, writhing movement, she helped him remove the rest of her clothing.
Her voice came in an urgent whisper: "Sugar-love me-"
He undressed swiftly, threw himself beside her and instantly her arms drew him close. She gasped when his strength took over. Her head dropped back, long white throat arching. Her hands moved over him, caressing, arousing.
Her whole body shook, She gasped and moaned as she lunged to meet him.
Time and again ecstasy shook her and her nails streaked down his bare back. He felt his passion mount and with a little choked scream she met his ecstasy....
For a while they lay side by side. Bill could dimly hear the beat of music if not the melody through the thin walls of the cabin. His hand moved to the warm flesh of Clair's leg. Her hand covered his, slowly moved it up to her breast. He cupped his fingers around it and she withdrew her hand then, dropping it on his chest. He felt the rise and fall of her breathing and then felt the nipple slowly tighten under his finger. He knew the evening was far from over.
She stirred restlessly, checked him when he started to withdraw his hand. She spoke in a soft whisper, "Bill?"
"Yes?"
"Am I as pretty as Joyce James?" He blinked in surprise. "Sure, Clair."
"Or that new teacher?"
He came up on an elbow, frowned down into her pale face. "Now why do you ask that? She's a teacher-woman."
"What am I?"
"You're eighteen, baby."
"Not a woman?"
He grinned in the darkness, did not answer. She frowned up at him. "Do I have to show you again?"
"Why not?"
She sighed and reached for him. "No reason why not-all the reason why."
Outside, the thumping rhythm of the distant jukebox increased its tempo.
CHAPTER THREE
The heat wave continued throughout the week. Summer seemed to try to stifle the town before giving way to autumn. The sun struck April with the force of a blow each time she left the house for school. There were no classes as yet, only a round of meetings, of schedulings and assignments.
Peg Mason had called them limbering up exercises for a year of trying to crack hard skulls. April had been delighted to discover that Peg was a fellow teacher at the school as well as her landlady.
"An accident of marriage," Peg had explained. "My ex was so glad to be rid of me that he threw in the house as part of the settlement."
"I didn't mean to probe," April had said contritely at breakfast that first morning.
"Quite all right. For some women marriage works and for others it doesn't. If you've made a mistake, pull out and forget it. That's what I did."
As the week had passed, April had learned other things about the town and Peg Mason. She had not at first known what to say to Peg's scornful wonder that she had come here. Finally April had confessed that she had had no choice.
"The other places turned me down-lack of actual experience," she had explained one night as they had lolled in pajamas in the shadows of the deep porch. "The board here just asked about degrees and credentials, nothing more."
"Darling," Peg had drawled, "they didn't dare ask about anything else. Knowing what I'm paid after four years, I can imagine what your salary is."
"What's wrong, Peg? Won't the factory reopen?"
"Last I heard-no. It made components for some kind of thing Uncle Sam decided he could do without."
"But something ought to be done."
"No one knows what. The town fathers just sit around and wait for something to happen."
"Can they?"
"The point is they do-except for Judson Gray and two or three others."
"Judson Gray-he's the young man on the school board?"
"That one. Makes female hearts skip a beat for all the good it does them. He's too deep in trying to save the town-and his own business, by the way. Gray's Department Store down on Main."
"His?"
"Inherited three years ago when his father died. He's like many others here-scion of an old family established in business-until modern economics brought changes."
"Well," April had said, "at least he's awake."
"And may it do him some good." Peg had been silent for a moment before she asked, "Have you been affected by our Mr. Gray?"
"Heavens, no. I've seen him only two or three times-last spring."
Peg had stood up. "Well, sack time if we're to look bright-eyed and intelligent in the auditorium tomorrow."
April had been groping her way to the screen door when Peg's slender, firm fingers had touched her arm to guide her. They were gone in a second but April had had the disturbing sensation that the touch had been a caress. She had thought about it later as she had sought sleep in the moist, dark heat.
But what she had briefly suspected simply could not be true. Peg had at least one steady date April knew of, a burly man April had briefly seen when he had called.
April's next thought had been so startling and frightening that she had sat bolt upright. Perhaps she herself had subconscious strange impulses-and simply read them into Peg. She had shivered, hugged her knees and stared into the darkness as she had probed into her own mind. She liked men, wanted men. True, that first surrender of hers four years ago had led to shock and disgust. She had avoided similar experiences since-but she had never even thought of turning to woman-love.
She sank back to the mattress but sleep was long in coming.
At last came the morning marking the final teachers' assembly. After the weekend the students would flock in, register, check schedules, pick up books for the full class sessions on Tuesday. As April showered and dressed, she heard Peg stirring around downstairs. Bright, cheerful music from the radio drifted upwards.
Breakfast was nearly ready when April came down. She swiftly took over the last touches. Seated at the table with toast and coffee, she looked through the window at the sunny morning. The weather already seemed hot, though with the air conditioning on in the house she could not tell.
Peg broke the little silence. "Well, this is Pep Day."
"What?"
"Teachers get a party. Not very exciting but still a party. We drink tea, nibble cookies. Some of us dance-if the hi-fi works in the gym. All of us are made important. Facing nine months of labor with the hopeful young of this hellhole, we need all the encouraging goof pills the principal and the board can give us."
April laughed. "You make it sound awful."
"Sweety, it is. Mind advice from an old China hand?"
"Not at all."
"Don't get involved with anybody, including yourself. You're just spending time here to get experience for a better job somewhere else next year-or the year after."
"You sound pretty cold and callous."
Peg adjusted her skirt, smiled at April. "Honey, girls with figures like yours can get involved, one way or another, unless they play it cold and callous. That's the only way to fly. Oh, you might except present company if the going gets too lonely."
April looked up swiftly. Peg's smile was warm and friendly-just friendly, April decided. With a little laugh she conceded Peg's point and began to help clear the table.
Peg proved right about Pep Day. The whole staff, including the janitors, assembled in the school gym. A long table sat under one of the suspended net baskets from which the school colors were displayed in streamers. The table bore tea and coffee urns, innumerable plates of cookies and cake. Music came from speakers normally used for official referee decisions and game announcements. Though turned low, the music seemed to boom and echo in the huge structure. No one danced as yet but clustered in little groups.
Peg bent to April and whispered as they entered, "The same old bit, every year. Pep Day always starts out like a morticians' convention until someone works up enough courage to crack a smile."
They walked side by side across the great expanse of gym floor. Peg indicated a large group of people near the refreshment table. April caught the disapproving eyes of an older woman on her, a wrinkled teacher of ancient history whose dark, beaded dress might have come from one of her own textbooks. The thin, bloodless lips quirked slightly and the woman turned her attention back to the principal, the center of the group.
But she also caught veiled, appreciative glances from male eyes and felt better. Approaching the group, she saw a few strange faces. She was introduced to one-a Mr. Collins. Bill Collins' father. He looked like Bill.
He smiled. "I didn't realize how much our faculty needed brightening until just now. You're not only a new face, but a pretty one."
April flushed, pleased. "I met your son, Mr. Collins. In fact, he was the first person I saw when I walked into the school a week ago."
"Bill? At school a week early? Now, that's a switch. Bill stays as far away from school as he can-and for as long as possible."
"He seems an intelligent boy."
Collins sighed, "Oh, Bill's got brains, give him that. But he won't use 'em. Drifts through lessons and classes when he could top the list. Quit once. Thank God, he came back."
"Why doesn't he like school?"
"I wish I knew. But half of the kids here are that way." He indicated the table. "How about cake? Or coffee?"
She nodded and accepted a cup of coffee from Collins. The principal joined them and a moment later, with a word of apology, Collins moved off.
By then other faculty members had moved to the table. April found herself pulled into another group and listened to the talk, nodding now and then.
This was the first glimpse April had into the personal lives and attitudes of her fellow teachers. In the past week, there had been brief, formal contact in meetings, small seminars and department conferences. She had been able to do no more than place faces with names and the subjects taught. Now, as she listened to talk, she discovered there was little enthusiasm among those present for the task ahead. The few younger ones, like herself, were here to mark time. The older ones gave the impression that they had been caught in a stagnant educational eddy and would never escape.
They were right, April thought, as she listened to a beak-nosed, embittered woman complain about the small pension she would start drawing next year when she retired. Some, April discovered, had spent their whole teaching lives locally and even had children enrolled here. They alone showed some faint spark of enthusiasm.
Within an hour, April felt her spirits steadily lower and she began to understand Peg Mason's harsh advice. But she did not like it and wondered desperately if she had entered some sort of educational jail, sentenced to a year or two of service as dull and drab as washing dishes.
"Care to dance, Miss Williams?"
She turned. Judson Gray smiled down at her and she felt the impact of his dark, deep-set eyes. She nodded and he took her hand, led her to the floor. In a moment, she felt herself swung out and into the dance. For a few steps she was too aware of the row of faces watching them-she and Judson Gray were the first couple on the floor.
He spoke in a low voice. "Don't mind the people. I can't be fired and I'll see that you're not." She laughed. "Is it that bad?"
"Not really. A dozen of the braver ones will be with us in a moment."
Her embarrassment left her and, with it, her stiffness. She blended her movements with his and they seemed to flow along the floor with the music. She almost put her head on his shoulder, checked the instinctive impulse. She felt a moment of fright at this near surrender to informality with a man she hardly knew.
He sensed a slight, renewed stiffness on her part and his dark, intense face glowed with a fresh smile. "Miss Williams, if you teach as well as you dance, we'll keep you here forever. That's a promise."
The strong arms, the flowing muscles, the male aura of the man who held her, filled her mind and emotions. The thought that a near stranger could so easily storm her emotional defenses alarmed her. No one had ever affected her so before.
She became aware that Judson Gray had spoken to her.
"I said our little party will soon be over. How about lunch, after I show you the town?"
She heard, with amazement, her own voice answering, "I'd love it."
CHAPTER FOUR
The overhead speaker suddenly stopped blaring and April stood a moment in Gray's arms, waiting for the music to resume. Instead, Mr. Collins called everyone to a spot before the table. The principal stood behind it, smiling, but with just a hint of steel in his eyes as he watched his teachers gather. April and Judson Gray moved reluctantly forward.
The principal hoped all of them had enjoyed themselves, reminded them that the school year began on Monday. He gave the floor to Mr. Collins, who said much the same thing in different words. He then called Judson Gray forward.
Gray first welcomed the new teachers. He made a mild joke, sobered.
"Now let me say for the board that we know you're underpaid and we hope to do something about that before the end-of the school year."
A faint murmur swept the group.
"Perhaps, you feel I have no right to ask you for an added effort, no matter what subject you teach. But I don't ask it for myself or the board, but for our students. We're afraid they're getting out of hand. They're in revolt-foolish revolt, perhaps-but revolt nevertheless."
April frowned slightly as she listened. Everything he said might be true but he sounded as though the necessary changes in the town's morale should start with the kids.
Gray continued after a short pause. "So the board asks you to drive home ethics and morals along with history, literature, math and science. We must show these kids they're going at life all wrong. Hot-rodding, under-the-counter booze and sexual excesses can only get them in trouble."
Gray smiled, thanked the group and stepped away from the table. The principal led them in a wavering chorus of the school song. While Gray had been talking, Peg Mason had worked her way to April's side.
She whispered to April as Gray circled the table after his talk, "Well, the party's about over and another bust as usual. How about a drink to forget we came?"
"Can't," April whispered her reply. "Mr. Gray and I are having lunch."
Peg's eyes widened, then swiftly narrowed.. "Well, now!"
She smiled at Gray when he came up and joined them in the singing. At the end of the song, the Pep Day party broke up. April felt Peg's eyes on her as she and Gray left the gym.
Heat smashed at them as they left the building. Gray gasped and hurried her to his car. In a matter of minutes it began to cool as its refrigeration unit went silently to work. By the time they rolled across the campus and onto the street April was comfortable again.
But the man beside her bothered her more than she cared to admit. Being alone beside him was almost as bad as that physical contact during the dance. She instinctively breathed deeper as she leaned back in the seat and knew she was showing off her bosom. She felt a swift feminine glow of pleasure as she saw that he noticed. She wondered at herself, at her swift reaction to him, at the surge of what was basically desire. It frightened her-she felt that powerful instincts moved her. She knew she had to fight against them.
He turned back to the center of town and pulled to the curb before an old brick hotel with a new, modern facing. The moment April stepped inside with him, she knew this was the town's finest dining place.
Gray led her to a spacious, upholstered booth, ordered cocktails and then eased back against his seat, smiling across the table at April.
He spoke of the town and its problems. Much of what he said she had already heard but his low, vibrant voice seemed to her to give the subject matter new meaning. He radiated an intense emotional quality. How would he sound, she wondered, when he made love?
At one point he said with a rueful grin, "Thank heaven I'm 'old family' these days. Some of my ideas for the town sound pretty far-out for the merchants. But, they listen. I still might get in hot water."
"How?"
"I'm kicking the old, set ways in the teeth. Whoever heard of a town practically buying a factory, waiving the taxes so someone will agree to run it?"
He sobered and April, fascinated, watched the play of light in his dark, somber eyes. "But it's the only way out-if not for the older people, then for the kids."
"By the way, you were rough on them back at the meeting."
"I should be."
"Do you blame them for the situation? I've always heard young people react to conditions. They don't make them."
"I'd say that idea came right out of some kind of sociology textbook."
April felt a jab of irritation. "Perhaps-but it's still true."
He waited until the waiter had served coffee before he thoughtfully shook his head.
"Not for our bunch of teenagers-not entirely."
"But they have no jobs, nothing to do. I hear that most of them simply wait until they're old enough to leave their homes here and make a life somewhere else. I suppose they caused that?"
"No, but-I'd like to show you something tonight. Okay?"
Through her anger, April realized he was asking her for a date of sorts and she barely hesitated. "Okay."
"Make it eight. Right now I have to get back to the store. May I drive you home?"
"No, my car's at the high school."
He grinned, boyish once more. "Then well call a truce. But only until tonight."
April drove home from the high school and, despite the heat, ran up the walk across the porch and into the house. She called out but there was no answer and she stood uncertain and suddenly deflated in the hallway. Then she saw her reflection in the hall mirror, the high color of excitement in her cheeks and the lift and fall of her breasts.
She laughed wryly. She was lucky Peg had not seen her like this after that very good advice on not getting entangled. A handsome man had looked at her, danced with her, taken her to lunch during which they had promptly argued. To win his point, he would take her somewhere tonight-and then promptly forget her, for all she knew. And she looked like a teenager with a new boy friend.
She moved through the cool, air-conditioned rooms to the kitchen and looked out through a closed window on the sun-bright rear lawn. It was bordered by high thick bushes against a solid fence and no one could casually look in. She saw Peg lying naked on a blanket her tanned, richly curved body absorbing more of the sun. April stared enviously, tracing Peg's contours from thin ankles past full, tapering thighs, strong loins, narrow waist, deep curve of back to tanned shoulders. April had a figure herself, but not as richly promising and mature as Peg's.
Peg rolled over and sat up. April saw firm, thrusting breasts, a flat stomach and wished that in ten years she would have as excellent a body. Peg glanced toward the window, saw April and waved. She stood up in one smooth, flowing motion and picked up the blanket. She walked toward the house and April watched the quiver of the woman's full breasts, the sway of her hips.
Peg disappeared from view and April heard the outer door open. A moment later, Peg came into the cool and spacious kitchen. She dropped the folded blanket on a chair.
"How did you and Judson Gray get along?"
"Well enough, if you don't count an argument."
"You don't like him?"
"Oh, but I do. But he frightens me, in a way." Peg's smile flashed. "Smart girl. Men can hurt."
"I know."
Memory put a fleeting pain to April's face. Peg came to her and embraced her. "There, now! No harm done."
April's arms had automatically gone about Peg's nakedness in the friendly embrace one woman would give another. Peg stood quite still, close against her, and April felt a slight quiver in the woman's body.
Peg said in a voice not quite normal, "The sun baked me. Can you feel the heat?"
April could. She was aware of another sensation as well She dropped her arms and stepped back. Peg's eyes held a strange expression. She forced a little laugh and turned toward the hall door.
"I'd better get dressed or some man could walk right in and find no barriers at all."
April found herself trembling. The nameless feeling she had known an instant earlier was gone-and she still could not define it.
"He'd see a vision in tan," April managed.
Peg swung around at the door. "You are sweet. I love you for it even if I am an old woman."
She seemed to wait for a reply but April said nothing. Finally Peg broke the awkward little pause, "Well, what will we do with our last night of freedom before school starts?"
"Judson Gray's picking me up at eight."
"Jud? I thought you had an argument."
"We parted friends."
"So I see," Peg said dryly. She turned and disappeared silently down the hall.
CHAPTER FIVE
April felt oddly guilty. Peg had closed the door to her room-an unusual gesture. No sound reached April until she, too, went to her quarters. Then she heard Peg go back downstairs.
April was puzzled and frightened-both by her own incomprehensible reaction to Peg's brief caress and Peg's obvious annoyance. She liked Peg-she did not want to think that anything about their friendship could be emotionally unhealthy. Resolutely she put such considerations from her mind. Peg was probably irked because April was going out on their final night of freedom while she, Peg, had no date. For a few moments April toyed with die idea of phoning Judson Gray and canceling her appointment with him-but after some consideration decided not to. To pacify Peg now might be the first step in shaping her daily life to Peg's and an eventual loss of independence.
April undressed, slipped into a robe and lay down on her bed.
She heard the phone ring downstairs and the faint murmur of Peg's voice answering. A few moments later, April looked up as Peg, now dressed in a housecoat, appeared in the doorway. She made a gesture over her shoulder, indicating the distant phone. "How about that? I've got a date, too. Early dinner okay, honey?"
April smiled. She felt relieved. Peg seemed to have gotten over whatever had bothered her. So had April.
"Of course."
"Mine's not as handsome as Jud Gray." Peg leaned against the door jamb. "But at least I can handle him. Watch your boy tonight."
"Peg-he can't be that bad."
"Those handsome, intense men generally fight hard for what they want. Not that I ever had a chance to find out with Jud." She straightened. "I guess I'd better wash and polish the body for a big evening."
She made a face and left. April was thankful to the unknown man who had called Peg. If her own earlier reaction to Peg had been unorthodox in any way she should now be feeling jealousy. She felt none as she prepared for her shower.
During dinner everything between herself and Peg seemed perfectly normal. They washed dishes and hurried to dress. As April was putting finishing touches to her hair, Peg came to her door.
"I'm off, honey."
"I didn't hear your date come in," April said. Peg grinned. "This one never does. We meet-big deal."
"For him-you're positively beautiful in that outfit, Peg."
A peculiar expression flitted across Peg's face. Then she smoothed the bottle-green dress over her hips and smiled.
"Thanks, baby. See you later-and take care of yourself."
She was gone. A moment later April heard her drive away. April finished her hair and walked downstairs, glancing at the clock. She had hardly settled herself to wait when the door chimes announced Judson Gray.
Once again she sat beside him as he tooled his car smoothly through the scant traffic-and once more she had that strange feeling that his hands on the wheel controlled more than the car ... that somehow he had the potential of dictating her very destiny. Occasionally his eyes traveled appreciatively over her, as they had done when she had first met him at the door. She knew that her fight summer sheath accented every curve of her body. It was intended to catch attention, from low, square-cut neckline to contour-hugging softness-yet it had a demure decency that invited no more than the eye.
"I've been dying to know where we're going," she said.
"To settle our argument? Later."
"And first?"
He grinned. "Where I can show you off. Be a shame to waste the way you look tonight just on me." April found nothing to say.
Judson Gray drove to the expressway. The day's heat had all but vanished. The wind coming through the open car window was merely pleasantly warm. Stars glittered in the dark sky. In the dim glow of the dash April studied the strong molding of his chin and jaw, his high forehead, dark hair and his capable hands on the steering wheel. She remembered Peg's warning but found herself relaxing. She probably had more to fear from herself than from Judson Gray.
He swung off the expressway to an exit that led to a more elaborate motel and restaurant than April had expected to see in what she had come to regard as a depressed area. She stared in surprise at the long low cocktail lounge, lighted pool, exquisitely modern restaurant.
Judson Gray smiled at her astonishment. "The place is well-named, I think-Jewel Box."
He slid from under the wheel, circled the car and opened her door, held his hand to help her. They entered the Jewel Box, were shown to a booth and April looked about the crowded room, The lights were indirect except for a hidden spot that played on the center of the back bar. An open treasure chest lay on its side in the splash of light, its jeweled contents spilled out on the wide velvet-covered shelf. Light reflected in bright points from realistic diamonds and emeralds, red, green and cold blue.
Jud said, "If those were real, that shelf would be worth millions." Their drinks had arrived almost instantly and he lifted his in a salute to her. "Here's to the real jewel."
She smiled a little uncertainly, sipped the excellent drink.
Jud seemed to understand her silence. "Surprised to see something like this out in the cornfields?"
"Yes."
"The only place like it between here and St. Louis. The trade comes from a radius of about a hundred miles around-this is the nearest thing to a resort this part of the country has." He sobered. "I suppose I'm making up now for Nick's place later."
"Nick's?"
"Where the teenagers hang out. Enjoy this while you can.
She frowned but Jud changed the subject, identifying some of the people in the booths. She could almost have guessed their backgrounds from the air of solid prosperity about them-a bank president from a neighboring town, a farm equipment dealer from another, an influential state politician-men and their wives from small but solid communities ranging over a good part of the state.
Jud seemed to read her mind, for he answered her question before she asked it. "You and I are the only ones from our town. A year or two ago you could have found a round dozen of my people here. Another sign of our trouble."
Piano music came from somewhere beyond the bar and Jud led her to the dance floor between the restaurant and the lounge. She felt again his arms guiding her, as they had that afternoon, to a mood of curious familiarity, an imminent intimacy she somehow recognized as dangerous. She was not sure why but she felt relieved when they returned to their table and to fresh drinks.
They talked idly as they finished the second round. Then he looked at his watch.
"Time we started for Nick's."
April sighed. "This is so pleasant, I'd almost prefer losing the argument."
"Not a chance." He laughed with a touch of grimness. "I need you on my side."
He helped her into the car and slid under the wheel. He started the motor, switched on his lights, but before setting the car in motion he turned to her. Before she could move he kissed her full on the lips. She felt the warm shock of his mouth-partly it paralyzed her, partly it evoked an instant response. Before she could properly catalogue either reaction he released her, turned back to the wheel.
"I took that now-before Nick's spoils the evening for both of us," he said tightly.
She straightened, uncertain of what to say. He started the motor, wheeled out of the parking area. He did not return to the expressway but drove down a dark, nearly deserted highway. They met a car now and then, saw dark houses and barns occasionally, glided through a dark and sleeping hamlet.
Jud drove in a concentrated silence, holding the speed steady as the miles flashed by. April gradually recovered from the impact of his kiss and relegated it to its proper place. The fun part of the evening was over-he had implied as much.
But now and then she gave him a covert, puzzled look. He acted as though she were barely there. Then why was it important to him to prove whatever point he meant to put across to her?
Jud slowed speed to drive through a larger town. He broke the silence as they rolled through a short business district and the houses began to thin to open countryside again. "Eight miles more. Nick's is just a quarter mile outside the county line. The location gives him a margin of safety."
"I don't understand."
"He's out of the jurisdiction of our sheriff. Takes care not to court trouble with his own."
The miles went swiftly. Sooner than she expected, April saw a distant, blinking point of green light. It grew steadily larger and then resolved into a high neon sign that blinked on and off: corners.
Jud slowed the car. Soon she saw the long, low building, nearly dark. An arch of lights led to a motel court beyond.
Jud killed his headlights. "I'll drive slowly over the layout," he said, 'so you'll get a general idea. Then we'll turn around and pay a visit indoors."
She nodded, eyes busy. At closer inspection she saw a dozen or more cars, dark and silent before the main building. A sudden noise startled her and Jud braked to a stop. A battered car whipped toward the place at high speed along the highway. It made a sharp turn, tires squealing protest, wheeled before the building and stopped with a scream of brakes seemingly inches from the wall.
Instantly doors flew open and the machine, still rocking, erupted human beings. Boys, April saw, in careless shirt-tail attire. Girls, one in a dress, but the others in playsuits that were little more than bikinis covering hips and breasts. Adolescent voices rose in muted shouts and girlish squeals. There was a bit of shoving and horseplay as the group went to the door of the main structure.
As it opened, April heard the strident beat of jukebox music that cut off sharply as the door closed. Jud put his car into slow motion.
"Place is virtually soundproof," he said. "Heavy drapes over the windows hide the lights. But you can bet all hell's going on in there."
As Jud inched along, April began to see cars parked off the road under the trees that lined a fence well back from the highway. She turned her attention to the adjoining court of the motel.
Most of the units were dark but occasional flashes of light came from several, suggesting surreptitious occupancy.
Jud said, "Give you odds we make a lot of people unhappy in a few minutes."
She put her hand on his arm. "Do you mean to cause trouble?"
He smiled tightly at her. "You gave me an argument about the kids you're going to teach and I promised to show you."
He added his car to those parked under the trees. He helped April out and she looked at the main building again. The low, long structure seemed to crouch under the flicking high neon sign, outwardly dark but namelessly alive within.
Jud touched her arm and she started. She recovered instantly with a little nervous laugh. His fingers tightened reassuringly on her arm and he escorted her toward the structure. As they approached the door, a couple abruptly appeared from the motel court.
April saw two young bodies silhouetted sharply in the glow of lights from the court. Neither the boy nor the girl could be over eighteen. The boy had a short, muscular, stocky build. The girl was plump and round-faced. She wore sandals on bare feet. Tight shorts hardly covered fleshy thighs and her breasts threatened to break from the cheap cotton halter that covered them.
The kids stopped short when they saw April and Jud. The girl gave a low, frightened gasp.
Jud eased the door ajar, stepped back. "Go right in."
Noise came from the narrow lighted rectangle of the partly open door.
The boy shifted nervously and uncertainly from one leg to another.
At last he managed: "Oh-oh, sure. Thanks."
The girl grabbed his arm, said in a low hurried tone, "I don't think we'd better. I-gotta get home."
The boy threw a frightened look at Jud, peered sharply at April. Without a word he swung the girl about and walked hurriedly with her into the shadows. Jud grinned crookedly at April, held the door open wider and waved her inside.
She felt she had to lean against the blast of sound that beat against her. She had an impression of coiling blue streamers of cigarette smoke, of swirling green, yellow and blue lights from the crouching, squat jukebox, of cheap powder, beer and body smells.
Jud moved with her, half guiding, half pushing her down a crowded aisle between the long bar and a line of booths. Adolescent faces looked at April and him in slack surprise, young hands frozen on beer bottles or highball glasses. A boy stared at her over his shoulder, his hand still plunged down the neckline of his girl's halter. The girl gasped and jerked away. April glimpsed a thin face, not yet filled out, framed by a tangle of straight dark hair. The girl's narrow shoulders and wiry arms had no feminine contours as yet. April fleetingly wondered what the young oaf found under the halter.
She moved on at Jud's gentle insistence.
Gradually voices faded and died out altogether. The jukebox music grew louder as its competition lessened. The teenagers perched on the bar stools seemed to freeze after many had hastily averted their faces to forestall easy recognition.
The jukebox played out its coins and fell silent. No one fed it again. Jud paused before a booth and its occupants slithered hastily out, leaving it vacant.
Jud looked at April, shrugged and said, "Might as well."
She sat down. She saw furtive movement everywhere, a trickling of couples to the door and out. Now and then she heard a muffled voice, a whisper. She looked toward the bar, surprised to find it nearly deserted. A big beefy man with dark, oily skin glared at her from behind the bar.
He slapped his rag on the bar top, came to the booth and glared down at Jud. "What you want here?"
"Whatever your customers have been drinking."
"Cokes? Soft drinks? For you?"
Jud picked up a glass in which shreds of foam still clung to the sides and which held an inch of amber liquid. He sipped gingerly.
"I'd say beer." His hand darted to another hurriedly abandoned glass. He sniffed it, sipped. "Gin and tonic."
"People got I.D. cards can drink what they want," the bartender said heavily.
"Those kids had I.D.s?"
"Look, mister, you prove they didn't. Order what you want and then get out. You ruin my business."
"I live in this area-and I saw a lot of our town kids here tonight."
"They got a right come to my place, so long as they behave themselves. I serve 'em hamburgs and soft drinks and they dance to the jukebox."
"And rent your cottages."
Nick Archos placed thick hands on the edge of the booth and leaned down over him. April drew back, frightened, as he scowled at Jud.
"Order your drink and get back home."
"Two martinis, Nick."
The man straightened, glared and lumbered to the bar. April threw Jud a frightened look but he shrugged reassuringly.
Nick returned with the two drinks and placed them on the table. He moved away and began picking up empty glasses in booths and along the bar. The silence of the big room held menacing weightiness for April. She tasted her drink cautiously and was surprised to find it excellent.
Jud spoke in a low tone. "Here's where the wild bunch comes. They drink and dance in here until the beer and liquor gets to them. Then they use the motel units."
Nick suddenly loomed over them again. "Finished?"
Jud looked challengingly up at him. "With these. Two more."
"I said drink and get out."
"I heard you, Nick. But I want two more."
Nick's chest swelled but he held his temper. "What you trying to do?"
"Make a point, I guess, maybe two. First, I'm pretty familiar with liquor laws-such as those concerning minors. Second, you're not scaring me. As a matter-of-fact, I think I'd like some trouble from you. Give me an excuse to bring you to court."
"Who wants to make trouble? Two martinis coming up."
He served them and retreated, grumbling, behind his bar. April and Jud lingered over their drinks and she began to feel a warm and sensuous glow through her whole body. Jud had made his point and she found herself liking him for it. For some reason she did not like to think of him as defeated even by herself. The essentially drab tavern seemed to soften and the changing colored lights of the jukebox looked lovely. Jud's face looked more masculine and she became aware of the firm set of his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again.
The thought sent a little shiver along her nerves and she mentally pulled herself up short. She warned herself she was much too aware of his attraction, had been all along and now the drinks added their weight. It would be best to end this evening before she made some foolish gesture.
Jud placed his empty glass on the table. "We've chased off the wild bunch and they won't be back this evening"
"I agree. We'd better go home."
She stood up with him and, in a warm cloud walked the length of the bar, vaguely aware that Nick's glare followed her and Jud. They stepped outside and Jud pointed-his car sat alone in the parking area. The lights were all gone from the motel court and no hot rod occupied the carports.
Jud laughed. "Nick might as well go home. His business is ruined for the evening."
She clung to Jud's arm as they walked to his car. She slid into her seat and closed her eyes. Jud got under the wheel beside her. When he did not immediately start the motor, she looked at him. Their eyes locked.
"Feel all right?" he asked.
"Fine-a little stuffy. That last martini."
"I know-a little too much. For me, too. But we couldn't let Nick set his own rules. I'll roll down your window."
He reached across her to turn the handle. His arm brushed across her breasts. His face was close to hers and suddenly he stopped cranking the window. April held her breath in anticipation.
Jud slowly bent to her. His hand released the window-crank and his arm circled her waist. His other hand grasped her shoulder. His lips crushed on hers and she shaped her lips to meet his kiss. She knew a delicious urge to surrender.
His hand moved up to cup the curve of her breast through the cloth and she murmured her response. Her tongue met his and explored as she moved her mouth under his to absorb the kiss. He strained to her and a quiver of passion coursed through her.
His hand rose to the neckline of her dress. In a moment, she felt the warmth of his fingers against her flesh. She gasped as her body tensed, demanding his caresses. He put his mouth to her breast, slid a hand up her thigh. Her body shook spasmodically.
Abruptly her brain cleared. She jerked bolt upright, striking his hand from her legs and her sharp cry of outrage echoed in the car's confines.
Jud straightened and she glared into his eyes. "Take me home-or do your women walk?"
His mouth dropped open, snapped shut. He pulled himself upright behind the wheel and angrily twisted the ignition key. The motor roared to life as April indignantly pulled her skirt down over her legs and adjusted her brassiere. Tires spun gravel and the car half skidded onto the highway, whipped around.
They both glared down the blinding white beams along the highway as they hurded toward Centerville.
CHAPTER SIX
By Monday morning, April had lost the edge of her anger at Judson Gray-and herself. She had felt alternately outraged and disgusted with herself and had ended by blaming the number of drinks she had had. But, running through her rationalizations was the damning knowledge that her own body had betrayed her into a loss of control of the situation.
She had hurried about so this morning preparing for school that Peg had commented. "You act as if you were running toward a bomb shelter instead of a job."
"Oh, it's first day of teaching-kind of exciting-"
"Come off it, honey. You've acted mean as a dunked cat for two days. I doubt you're even fit to teach."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be unpleasant."
"Something happened the other night with Judson Gray. Just guessing."
"No, nothing happened-not really."
Peg eyed her shrewdly, shrugged and turned toward the door. She asked over her shoulder, "Now what could that mean?"
April flushed. The door opened and closed and Peg was gone. Her car purred down the drive into the street. A few moments later, after a last critical examination of herself in the mirror, April drove to school.
The day was hectic, made up of short classroom periods during which April met with her students, collected enrollment slips, introduced herself, announced the textbooks. Young faces soon became a blur and the names meaningless. She knew she would eventually sort them out but right now all was confusion.
One face leaped out at April-that of a girl seated halfway back in a class April could not later remember. The face was thin, framed in straight hanging hair and below it was a ruler-straight body-suddenly April saw the Corners. She looked around at the others, boys and girls who had barely begun in high school. She forced the image of the Corners from her mind, kept her thoughts from drifting beyond this room. She succeeded. She spoke to her students pleasantly, introduced herself, made them welcome. On this first day of short classes, it seemed that neither she nor the students were more than seated before the bell rang for the next class.
She watched this group file out. The girl she had noticed made a roundabout route to the door as though to keep the others between herself and April. As she reached the door, April signaled her to the desk.
The girl hesitated, came slowly forward. She watched April covertly.
April smiled and asked in a friendly tone, "Haven't I seen you the last few days?"
"No, Miss Williams."
"I'm sure I have."
"This is the first day in school this year and there ain't-isn't any other place we could have met, Miss Williams."
"What's your name?"
"Mabel Corey."
"How old are you, Mabel?"
"Thirteen."
April suppressed a shock and her eyes grew sharper. "Have you ever been at the Corners?"
The thin cheeks flushed but the lips thinned slightly in defiance. "No, ma'am. I ain't-I'm not-allowed to go to places like that."
"Do you have a boy friend?"
"Sometimes."
April studied her, sensed nothing was to be gained by pressing the girl. She would simply lie.
April sighed, "Well, my mistake, Mabel. I hope well be friends."
Dark eyes, too large for the thin face, lifted and dropped. "Yes, ma'am. I hope so."
"That's all. I don't want to make you late for your next class."
The girl scuttled out. April gathered up the enrollment slips, consulted her schedule and walked to her next assignment.
Chemistry was a senior-year course and April sat behind her desk watching with interest the group of older students who entered the classroom. She suppressed a little start when Bill Collins came in after parting in the hall with a girl whose face April had no chance to see. But she had the impression of blond hair and an extremely ripe figure.
Bill gave April a swift look and the shadow of a smile played about his lips. As he moved through the room April noted that many of the girls watched him covertly and she could almost read their thoughts. Her lips thinned slightly.
Bill looked over the room. There were no desks, only stout chairs with one arm expanded for books or writing of class notes. Bill moved to the first row. It was completely filled. He touched a boy on the shoulder.
"This seat something special, Mac?"
The boy looked startled. Bill smiled easily down at him. "I dig the front row in this class, so I can read the blackboard easy. Have to take care of the orbs this year."
"I just sat here. You can have it."
"Thanks, old buddy. Do you a favor some time."
"That's all right, Bill."
The class bell rang and April lifted her head with a friendly smile for the whole class. The group was small compared to some others she had met and she felt she would swiftly come to know the twenty-odd boys and girls. In any case, her worth as a teacher would be proven in this advanced class and in the laboratory in the next room. Gaining the friendship and confidence of these students would be the first step.
She asked a girl to collect the enrollment slips and bring them to her. She shuffled them and then read a name, asked the student to stand up. She gave a brief smile.
"William Collins," she read.
Bill stood up with the easy grace of an athlete. She looked up to find his eyes boldly on her and again she felt the impact of them. She hid her self-anger because her smile had become a hint more than impersonal but her voice held a slight edge. "I understand you're the athlete in the class, William."
"Yes, ma'am-football and basketball."
"Very good."
"The best," someone said in a loud whisper from the back of the room.
Bill looked around with a satisfied, pleased smile as low laughter swept over the room. April let it subside before she spoke. "I'm glad to hear that. So I'll expect as good a record from you here as you have in sports."
Bill's eyes narrowed slightly. "No teacher's complained yet.
"I'm sure no one has and I don't expect to. However, I feel that grades are more important than scores, don't you?"
He caught the implied warning that his playing on the field might depend on his work in this room. So did the class and April sensed a subtle, sudden hostility. Bill's bold eyes and manners had caused her to assert her own demands too quickly. She had made a mistake.
He resumed his seat with the same animal ease of movement. He slouched a little but April had a feeling of controlled power in his slack muscles. She tried not to notice him as she introduced the class to her subject and tried briefly to give them a beginning interest in, if not enthusiasm for, chemistry.
Throughout she sensed Bill's bold but lazy eyes upon her. She felt them almost tangibly-they probed her face, her breasts and fingered over the rest of her. She wore a conservative dress but whatever she had worn would have made no difference. Bill's eyes were evaluating her, not her clothing.
She tried not to look at him but now and then her eyes cut his way. He seemed to be listening attentively while not missing a single gesture or movement she made. She stumbled over a word, lost a phrase and knew a momentary confusion.
She moved hastily to the protection of the desk and dropped into the chair. She recovered her confidence and her train of thought. Her words came more easily as she folded her hands before her and spoke of the great names in science.
She became aware that Bill's eyes had now fixed on some spot below the desk top. She caught another young male eye transfixed on the same area. She realized that she had crossed her legs carelessly and, at the same moment, realized the desk's kneehole had no protective apron.
Her face flamed and she stood up. Bill's eyes knowingly and slowly lifted to her face. She read lustful male approval in their brief flash before he unconcernedly turned his head toward the corridor door.
When the final bell sounded April felt she was being rescued from complete catastrophe. She held herself in an unconcerned stance at the side of the desk, smiling as the students moved out into the corridor. Bill Collins waved to a friend, spoke to a girl but remained close to his chair.
When the last of the students moved through the door, he came forward. April braced herself but his expression remained innocent as he said courteously, "I think I'm going to like this class, Miss Williams."
She suppressed a gasp of anger-he was trying to get her off balance and at a disadvantage this first day. She successfully fought down the color that wanted to stream up her neck and into her cheeks.
Her voice held a hard-won, impersonal note. "You might find it dull tomorrow-when the work starts."
He said nothing, only shrugged and walked calmly out of the room. April picked up the small stack of registry slips. She walked to the chair Bill had occupied. She could plainly see under the teacher's desk.
She hurriedly jumped up to find the maintenance man. By morning, there'd be a wooden apron on that desk.
On this first day, school ended at one. There were no more incidents but April watched the students stream to the street and away with a definite sense of relief. She gathered up her accumulated slips and rollbook and hurried to the office. Peg Mason turned from the row of pigeonholes where teachers picked up notices, bulletins and memos.
"Sticking around or going home?"
April sighed. "Home. I'll do my paperwork there."
Peg's face lighted. "See you there, then. This girdle is killing me."
When April entered the house, Peg called from the kitchen, "Get out of the work clothes, honey. Lunch is about ready."
April changed from dress and hose to lounging pajamas so light and sheer that the shadows of her skin showed through. She hurried downstairs, dropped her school work on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. Peg looked up from the dining nook.
She stood poised a long moment. Her eyes grew round.
"Quite an outfit."
April flushed. Peg indicated a chair by the window. "Sit down and let me get used to that. I've never seen it before."
"I was a bit afraid to wear it, I guess. The girls at the sorority wore these on study nights in our rooms."
"It hardly looks safe even there." Peg dropped into her chair across the table. "More like a seduction outfit."
"Peg!"
Peg indicated the twisted cloth that covered her own full breasts. "I thought this barely did the job. Now I feel as if I were wearing a Mother Hubbard. If Judson Gray had one quick look at you in that, you'd be fiat on your back."
"Well, he won't. Or in anything else."
"Oh-oh. There was trouble the other night."
"Well-some."
"I take it you fought him off." Before April could answer, Peg continued carelessly as she attacked her salad: "That was smart, honey. I can't think of a worse entanglement than Judson Gray."
"I never had any idea of becoming involved with him," April said shortly.
"But Jud did-and I bet he tried. I don't blame him."
April saw the uselessness of delving further into her evening with Judson Gray. They finished lunch in silence. Later April worked, transcribing names from registry slips into her rollbooks. She had barely finished when Peg appeared with two large beach towels.
"Catch," she said and tossed one to April. "Last afternoon to get the sun for a long, long time."
April started to protest, changed her mind. She followed Peg out into the fenced and sheltered yard. Long hot rays of golden light slanted onto the grass as she spread the towel. Peg placed a bottle of ointment beside her blanket, loosened her bra and stepped out of her shorts. She dropped onto the blanket, face down.
April hesitated, then shrugged out of the light pajamas. The sun instantly bathed her body, caressing her bare breasts and stomach, wrapping a soft blanket of heat about her. She dropped down on her towel, buried her face in her crossed arms and luxuriated in the warmth, the pleasant stir of a vagrant breeze across her back.
Peg stirred after a moment but April didn't look up. Peg said, "Honey, you're hardly tanned at all."
April's voice came muffled. "I had my choice-tan or a job."
"You'll blister."
"I don't think so."
"Well, just in case, we'll use the ointment." April started to lift her head in protest but Peg's fingers and palms touched her shoulders. The lotion felt good on April's skin and Peg's touch was light and soothing. She surrendered, relaxing. Peg worked steadily.
Her hands moved along April's back, her sides, fingers lightly brushing the outer curve of her breast and swiftly away again. Then they moved to the small of the back and over April's hips softly and gently. Peg said softly, "Honey, you have a beautiful body."
"Mmmm." Sleepily. "Thank you." The hands moved. "Really, honey-beautiful."
Now the fingers had a different touch, almost as if they were trying to evoke a response. They seemed to touch little nerves along her back, low on her sides and hips. Lazy sensuousness caused by sun and touch was transformed into a strange and urgent sensation as though passion lightly flicked through Peg's caressing fingers.
Startled, April could not move for a moment. Then the sensation came again, vibrating from hips down into her stomach and up to her breasts. She jumped to her feet.
Peg, naked, crouched back on her heels and April caught the fading flicker of some strange expression on Peg's face. But Peg's eyes and voice remained cool and merely friendly as she asked, "Had enough, honey?"
"I-yes. I'd better go inside."
She stood up and Peg, with a careless shrug, dropped prone on her own towel, cushioning her head in her arms. April swept up towel and discarded pajamas and walked swiftly into the house.
In the doorway, she looked back.
Peg, a naked Venus, apparently slept in the sun.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following Friday night Bill Collins felt as though Fate had given him the back of her hand. He had not gotten fully into the swing of school and, except for playing his new chemistry teacher and football, he did nct know if he really wanted to.
Maybe he should scratch Miss Williams, too. Like she was a teaser. She knew he had given her the business from the first moment he had walked into the class last Monday. He had not expected her to turn on, openly at least, when he gave her the meaning eye. He had expected her to act mad and, sure enough, she had come right back with that crack about grades and football.
But then she had given him that straight look at her legs when she sat down. He still carried the vivid memory of sleek hose and white, soft, rounded flesh above them, columning and disappearing into that nest of white lace and blue silk. Like she didn't know what she was doing. And then that board across the kneehole of the desk all the rest of the week.
She made Clair Engels look young and raw and awkward. The comparison, too, bothered Bill. If he had any sense, he would forget Miss Williams and stick with Clair. But he could not and, because of this inability, he had become critical of Clair. His attitude had almost led to a fight and a breakup night before last.
To make peace, Bill had picked her up tonight and taken her to the picture show. Now he slumped in his seat, glaring at the screen and wishing both he and Clair had stayed home. Better stuff on television and it was free. And Clair had told him she could not go to Nick's because it was the wrong time. She had been cross all evening and slapped his hand away when he had fooled around a little. Now he miserably waited for the picture and the evening to end.
After the show he took her to the malt shop. She was still cross when they took a booth. He saw Joyce James with a bunch of girls and remembered Hal had to work tonight. Joyce smiled, waved and he waved back while Clair smiled.
But the moment they sat down, Clair's smile vanished. "Let Hal look the other way and Joyce is on the make."
"Oh, I don't know-"
"I do. I ought to, I guess. She's one of my chums."
Bill stared at her, trying to understand this bit of female logic. Clair flushed and her eyes flashed.
"I notice she's making eyes at you."
"For gosh sake. She just smiled. She runs around with Hal, don't she?"
"And he's gone so she picks you."
"Cool it," Bill growled.
"Like that chemistry teacher you're always raving about."
"Lay off, baby. I just said she was pretty and she is."
"Oh, I see," Clair said with elaborate sarcasm. "She's just pretty. But you've said so a dozen times this week and I'm tired of hearing it."
"Okay, forget it."
She glared. "I notice she did put you in charge of lab supplies. You did tell me that, didn't you?"
Bill grunted and sought escape. "Jukebox?"
He fled to the machine before she could object. Joyce stood near the player, he realized, and he almost returned to the booth. Then he squared his shoulders and went on. Joyce gave him an over the shoulder smile and bent to read the selector slips as he came up. Her dress fell away from her body and he looked down the dark cleavage between the white mounds.
"I like that one."
She pointed. He saw the label-Lei's Play, Chum. Joyce avoided looking at him but he could read the little smile at the corner of her lips. He thought of Clair and the hard time she had given him all evening-and things would go no better when he returned to the booth.
"Suit yourself-your dime," he said loudly. He shot the words under his breath. "Give me half an hour-Gray's Store."
He turned and saw Clair suspiciously watching him and Joyce. He went back to his seat. Clair studied him. Music blared suddenly. The record was not Let's Play....
Clair watched Joyce return to her girl friends and sniffed audibly.
Bill said nothing. He waited out the minutes. Finally Clair stood up without a word and Bill walked with her out to his car. They drove away in silence and he took her directly home. At the door, he turned her around. She stiffened but finally gave in a little to his ardent kiss.
She clung to him a moment. "I'm awful, Bill."
"You'll feel better tomorrow, maybe."
"Yes."
"A date tomorrow night?"
"Mmmm-hmmm."
He kissed her again and walked to his car. He drove off, heading back to town. He checked his watch and stopped at a pay phone. Clair answered the call.
"Honey, I just got home. Sure you feel all right?"
"Of course-oh, it's that thing. I love you for calling, Bill."
"Love you, baby. I'd better get to bed before I wake the folks. 'Night, now."
He hung up and gripped at the instrument. A few moments later he rolled to the curb in front of Gray's Store. A dark slim figure was waiting for him. Joyce jumped in when he reached across and swung open the door. She did not bother to adjust skirts that had lifted well above her knees. Bill tooled away, turned on a dark street, drove several blocks and pulled to the curb.
Without a word, Joyce came into his arms, holding him close against her straining, arched body as her lips moved under his. His free hand dropped to her bare knee and slowly traveled up under her skirt, fingers stroking the soft skin. He touched lace and her hand dropped to his, stopping any further move. They held the kiss for a long moment before Joyce wrenched her lips free.
Bill straightened with an explosive exhalation. In the faint light he caught the pleased flash of her smile. He turned the ignition, started the motor, turned again to her.
"When do you have to be home?"
"Mother went with dad to St. Louis. Grandma's staying with me."
"Pretty sharp old lady?"
"Not very. Hard of hearing and ready to go to bed when I left with the girls for the malt shop."
Bill studied her, a smile beginning to form on his lips. He had always wondered about Joyce, the way she gave him the eye and the way she would talk and act big with Hal but would always pull out when the bunch decided on a real bash. A tease? Or was it that the right man was not with her?
Now was the perfect time to find out, the way the evening had shaped up.
His grin widened. "Well, then, let's five a little."
He rolled away from the curb and turned on the lights. She snuggled against him. "Where are we going?"
"Funsville, baby. Okay?"
She nodded and her fingers tightened around his arm.
He avoided the main street as he drove out of town, making a wide circle around the filling station where Hal worked. Soon he sped along the dark highway westward. Joyce tensed briefly, sitting ramrod erect, and he knew she realized where he headed. He braced for a protest but, after a second or two, she relaxed against his shoulder. He increased the speed of the car.
The wink of neon appeared far ahead, grew larger as the car sped toward it. The low shape of the main building and the motel court became distinct. Bill slowed and glanced at Joyce. She had straightened again and was staring toward the Corners, lips slightly parted and her eyes wide. Girlish but full breasts rose and fell with erratic breathing.
The car's light swept over the low building as Bill swung into the parking area. Not many cars were parked in the shadows. He stopped, cut the motor and the night's silence seemed to drop down on them like a weight.
Joyce slowly looked at him, moistened her lips. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. His hand smoothed over her breasts as he kissed her and she pushed them deeper into his palm. He felt her tremble.
He straightened, reached for the door. She checked him and indicated the cars. "Suppose someone sees us and word gets to Hal or Clair."
"We play it cool. Stay here until I know who's made the scene."
He felt her eyes on him as he walked to the door and went in.
Joyce waited the long moments, fearful and yet eager to plunge into the evening. For more than a year she had been wanting just such a night as this and now her body cried out for the experience she anticipated. Her breasts tightened as her imagination ran riot.
With Bill she would know no awkward rumblings such as she had experienced with Hal. She had allowed Hal to play around but no more. She had always drawn back at the last moment.
She considered Hal a boy and she wanted her first irrevocable giving to be to a man. Some deep instinct in her demanded that her first venture into sex be complete and perfect. Bill Collins was a man in experience, though she knew that he was barely a year older than Hal. But she could tell. She had had hints from Clair, who made sly, boastful allusions now and then. Also, Bill had had other girls.
Joyce felt a touch of fear. Yet desire swept from her thighs and stomach over her body. She wanted to run. She wanted Bill to hurry back. She longed to feel his hands upon her.
She started slightly when the tavern door opened again and music blasted out. Bill came to the car, looked in at her, grinning.
"Just one guy in there I know-plays quarterback on another school team. Let's have fun."
He opened the door. Joyce hesitated. This was the moment of decision. She looked at the dark building and back at Bill. He waited, a crooked grin on his lips as though he sensed her racing thoughts and inwardly laughed at her for not being fully a woman. Her chin firmed and she whipped about on the seat, extending her leg to the ground.
Her skirt slipped high up on her thighs. Bill suddenly stepped close to her, blocking her further progress. He looked down at her exposed legs and then deep into her eyes. He bent to her and she lifted her lips to his kiss. As his mouth touched hers his hands moved gently along her legs, up over her hips. She could not control the spasm that swept through her. His hands clasped her about the waist and he stepped back, pulled her to her feet and turned her toward the building.
Joyce looked curiously and fearfully about her as she entered the place. She had heard about the Corners, knew that Hal himself had been here. But never with her. Until tonight no urgency had brought her here. Now a need strode beside her down the aisle between booths and bar-its name was Bill, whose hand held hers.
A big man with swarthy features stepped up to the booth when she and Bill sat down. Joyce heard a girl's quick laughter from a dark booth in the rear of the room. She looked fearfully up as the big man leaned on the booth table, glanced at her and then turned to Bill.
"Whafll it be?"
Bill said knowingly, "A special soft drink, Nick, for me and the lady."
"That all?"
"Well, my uncle and aunt want a cabin." Nick's voice was a growl. "Maybe I ain't got one tonight."
"Come off it, Nick. You've always got one." Bill placed money on the table. "They'd like a little bottle."
Nick straightened. "I'll think about it while I get your special soda pop."
He lumbered away to the bar and Bill frowned after him, then down at the money Nick had not touched. Nick returned with tumblers filled with a dark liquid. He placed them before Bill and Joyce, indicated her with a thick thumb. "I ain't seen this one before."
"New chick."
"From your town?"
Bill frowned. "Where else?"
Nick dropped into the seat beside Bill and his voice dropped to a murmur. "You hear I had visitors last week? So tell the bunch to stay away for a while."
"Word came my way," Bill admitted. "But I can't tell anyone what to do."
"Don't kid Nick. You come here, that bunch comes here. You whistle, they jump. You're the boss, kid. So tell them to stay away until things cool. That man and woman that came here last week-in ten minutes the joint was empty." He snapped thick fingers. "Even the motel."
Bill understood. "So that's why you played it close with me tonight. Afraid?"
"Careful," Nick corrected, "until I know. Who were those two?"
"One was a new teacher, I know that." Bill looked at Joyce. "Mabel Corey's boy friend said she asked Mabel some questions in school-"
"The girl told her everything about this place?"
"Mabel said she'd never been here. The teacher dropped it and there hasn't been any talk since. There won't be."
"How do you know? She's a teacher, ain't she?"
Bill grinned. "That's right-and I'm getting to her, pal. She's fighting but losing. Don't worry about her."
Nick studied Bill, tugged at his heavy hp. "How about the man?"
"I don't know who he was. Forget it, Nick. Things'll cool off."
Nick grunted, stood up and leaned over the table again. "Sure they will. Until then, I don't want to run the risk of a raid."
"You're over the county line."
"Sure, but-"
"And like I said, I'm getting next to that teacher. Shell tip me off if you're headed for trouble. And I'll tip you."
"You're damn' sure of yourself, ain't you?"
"Why not? Besides, my old man'd let something drop at home if the town started after you. Relax, Nick." Nick straightened. "Okay."
Bill grinned. "How about my uncle and aunt?"
Nick made a gesture around the empty room. "I'm busy. You take care of them, eh?"
He walked away. Joyce looked fearfully and questioningly at Bill and sipped her drink. It was a coke but a strange, harsh flavor underlay its sweetness. She felt a subtle warmth steal through her body. Bill urged her to drink more and she did. The colored jukebox lights grew softer and more pleasing and the shadowy room became less fearful. She looked across the booth at Bill again.
She saw him through a new, strange mist that made him more rugged and masculine. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel his hands upon her. The desire made her lips part and her eyes grow misty.
"How about it? ready to go?"
It was so nice here, she thought. She liked the way blurred objects in the big room became clear and sharp and then sort of floated, blurred again. Like Bill-one moment his face was indistinct and the next she could see those firm lips and beautiful, gleaming eyes upon her.
"Mmmm-what'll we do?"
"What would you like to do?" She giggled. "Kiss you."
"Then come on."
The night was wonderful, too, with bright stars that sort of jigged a little. But Bill's arm felt good about her and the walk to the little house was fun and no trouble at all. Then they stood close together inside and she swayed into his arms.
His touch-how different! Now all her sensations seemed to center in her thighs and stomach, making her weak with a desire more powerful than she had ever known before. Her lips clung to his and she knew only vaguely that Bill moved her across the room and thrust her down onto a bed.
Some kind of warning flashed through her hazy mind but vanished as Bill worked her loose blouse down over her shoulders and his lips pressed against the warm, bare flesh of her breasts. She felt more free than she ever had and moaned as she pressed his head tightly to her bosom.
She fell back and in sensuous pleasure felt his hands move over her. Her dress was in the way and she struggled out of it and the loose-hanging brassiere. She felt Bill's impatient hands at her waist and arched her body. A moment later, she glimpsed silk and lace disappearing over the side of the bed.
Her eyes focused and she saw him bending over her. She saw the play and ripple of muscles along his bare shoulders, the square, muscular shape of his chest. A man, she thought through a wave of driving desire. Then he lay beside her and fiercely pulled her to him. Nakedness touched nakedness and she became aware of his strength. His hands and lips moved over her, driving her frantic.
Then she felt his weight. His hands moved. She cried out at a sharp pain.
Her breath sucked in with an ecstatic gasp the next instant. She had known that this was the way it was meant to be. He filled her with desire and her young, wanton body, without direction from her brain, moved to his rhythm and demanded more and more. She heard her own voice as if from a distance, strange with passion-filled moans.
Thought swept into darkness and she knew only the driving feel of passion and her frantic response. Waves of feeling swept over her and she was carried out into a wonderful, swooning sea of sensation. There was nothing else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bill could look through the door of the lab into the empty classroom and see Miss Williams seated at her desk, behind the abhorrent wooden apron. Late afternoon sun streamed through the far windows. Bill studied her in the gentle light as she graded the class experiment papers.
She sighed and dropped the papers. Bill ducked back into the lab and continued distributing new test tubes to the racks. He heard a light step and, in a moment, Miss Williams appeared in the doorway. She wore a plain, high-necked black jersey that clung to her like a caress and was accented by a bright bit of costume jewelry pinned above the left breast.
She watched Bill work. The building was silent. All other students had left a half-hour earlier. April broke the silence.
"How many tubes did we lose today?"
Bill filled a hole in a rack and replaced the fid on his carton of spares.
"Fourteen."
"That many? But I suppose first semester lab work means high breakage."
"Sure. You got to learn how to handle them and how much heat they'll take. At that, we're two down from last week."
April smiled ruefully. "Progress. By the end of the semester, we'll catch up with the butterfingers."
Bill laughed, swung around to face her. As usual, his eyes swept boldly over her from head to toe. His gaze darkened slightly in anticipation of her customary reaction but April said nothing, showed no anger. She was getting used to him, he thought-maybe even learning to like what he thought of her. Other chicks had.
"Finished, Bill?"
"That's it-unless you have something else."
"I hate to keep you after school."
"I don't mind." His eyes held hers. "Not one bit."
She turned back into the classroom. "Then, I'd like to talk to you."
He put the test tube carton in the supply closet, locked it and hurried into the next room. April had taken a student's chair instead of going to her desk. She waved him to sit beside her. His thoughts took an excited jump but he checked them cautiously as he sat down.
"I hope you don't mind, Bill. I've looked up your past records and grades." She noted his slight flush as she continued. "I'd say you look great in the muscle department and awful in the brain."
He started angrily but her smile told him her harsh summary had a purpose.
"The discovery surprised me. You're no fool. You lead this class and chemistry isn't the easiest subject in the world. You catch on to theory as fast as anyone I've ever known."
"I guess I kind of like it."
"I'm glad. Your experiment reports are excellent and you understand what the experiment is supposed to do. I'd say you have a knack for science."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me, Bill. But this makes me wonder why the irregular grades in your past. I wonder why you quit school for over a year."
He folded his hands and studied them, shot her an underbrow look. "Nothing here interested me-until now. You sort of make chemistry-well-mean something."
Her face glowed with pleasure. He thought he had never seen her so beautiful. Desire flashed so nakedly in his eyes that he swiftly lowered them to his hands.
After a moment April asked, "What about college?"
"Not much point. Who needs college?"
"Wouldn't you like to be able to enter-even if you decide not to go?"
"What would be the point?"
"To prove something to yourself." She hesitated, plunged. "A man's more than just strength and muscle, Bill. Brawn is the cheapest thing to buy. But brains can come pretty high."
"Not in this town."
"This town isn't the world. You're a star athlete and a leader, I know. But what happens after the last game's played here?"
"You tell me."
"Nothing-unless you plan your future. You won't automatically continue to be a leader. Who remembers an athlete two years after he leaves school?" He winced and she pressed her advantage. "Will the girls flock around when you don't wear a lettered sweater?"
He grinned. "I think they will."
She flushed but recovered. "Perhaps girls aren't everything," she concluded with a smile. "Think it over, Bill. If you decide to go after grades I'll help you all I can. That's a promise."
"Why put yourself out for me?"
April said slowly and firmly, "It's my job. Besides, I like you-as a student. I feel that you have a good mind that has been wasted in the past. I won't even guess through whose fault. I think you have an aptitude for science-more than that, a gift. I don't want you to throw away something of value."
She stood up. Bill came slowly to his feet. He looked down at her. April's eyes met his steadily. After a moment he looked away, shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Well, I guess you've pretty well laid it on the line and told me where I stand. You want me to work."
"Exactly."
He grinned crookedly. "I've been figuring I'm doing all right. You've kind of thrown me for a loss."
"I think you'll get over that. What about the studies?"
He shrugged. "Oh, I won't flunk any subjects this year."
"I mean-after high school."
He shrugged again. "I'll think that over. But don't plan on anything."
"I won't. You're the one who should plan." She smiled. "It's late and I'm sure we've both got things to do."
He walked to the door, looked back over his shoulder and April waited expectantly.
He said, "See you tomorrow, Miss Williams." And was gone.
April walked slowly to the window and looked out. A wide walk led from the school entrance to the street. A blond girl with an armload of books was waiting for someone. Bill? April wondered idly if she made clandestine visits to the Corners. Judging by her figure, she would be welcomed there.
She pulled her attention from the girl and tried to estimate the impression she had made on Bill. His reaction had been impossible to gauge. Bill appeared on the walk below her. The blonde turned and April realized she had guessed correctly-the girl had been waiting for him. She watched Bill join her, say something, and then the two walked off.
She was sure now the girl went to the Corners. She had probably shared one of those shabby motel units with Bill Collins. She was an enemy of Bill's future. April felt a surge of anger. She turned from the window, strode to her desk and swept up her papers. Suddenly she stopped short as a thought struck her.
Was she angry-or jealous?
The question was ridiculous.
She strode firmly to the door and out into the corridor.
She forgot the incident until after dinner. The dishes cleared away, she and Peg were in comfortable housecoats, checking students' papers in the living room. They had worked silently for over an hour.
Finally Peg put the last paper on the completed stack, leaned back and stretched luxuriously, long arms high over her head. She expelled a loud breath. April looked up.
"As bad as mine?" Peg asked, gesturing at April's work.
"Well-I'm hopeful."
Peg shook a cigarette from a pack at her hand. "Hooray for you, then. More than I can say. If the Egyptians had known how my class can mangle their history, the wouldn't have bothered making any. Maybe the kids will do better by the Persians next week but I doubt it."
April laughed. "Face it, what have your Egyptians or my chemical equations to do with dates and next week's football score?"
Peg blew twin jets of smoke through her nostrils. "Honey, never ask that question. You'll curl right up and die out of sheer frustration. Just think of the monthly paycheck and-for you-a better school somewhere else in a year or two."
April absently riffled through her papers until she came to one, pulled it out. She looked thoughtfully at the red A she had marked in one corner. "Now and then there might be one who'd be worth the rest."
"You're becoming involved, honey. I told you this town was a trap."
April protested. "But when I see a good mind and a real talent for a subject, I can't just let it disappear. A teacher's duty is to develop ability."
Peg crossed the room to an easy chair, dropped into it and sprawled. "Not in this town-and you know why. We've been through that before. Talent's useless here. If these kids have a taste for booze and sex already-and they have-you're just wasting energy."
"I'm not too sure, Peg. Give one of these lads a real ambition, something to work for, and I think the rest will fall into line."
Peg sobered. "Who's the shining light that fired you to all this nonsense?"
"It's not nonsense."
"Okay-but who?"
April hesitated and then sailed the experiment paper to Peg. She looked at it, took a deep drag of her cigarette and then placed the paper on April's stack. She dropped back in her chair. April waited.
"Well?"
"Bill Collins, the teen-age goat. I bet he's bedded every girl in the senior class-at least every doll not totally repulsive."
April made an exasperated sound. "I'm talking about his grades, not his morals."
"What are you doing about him?"
"Encouraging him in class. He's good. I've made him class monitor and put him in charge of lab supplies."
"He's responding?"
"You saw his grade just now."
Peg shook her head. "Don't work up too much steam. Wait until the semester's become a dull routine. That beginning surge poops out."
"I think Bill's will last," April said with more confidence than she felt.
"Amen. But why?"
"I spoke to him today-about going to college after he graduates." She became aware of Peg's hard, disbelieving stare. "He listened. I offered to help him with his grades as much as I could."
Peg slowly crushed out her cigarette. "And he jumped at the chance?"
"No-he simply promised not to flunk out."
Peg pulled herself up from the chair. "I know Bill Collins from way back. And what I don't know, I've heard about. Honey, you're going to be had."
"What a horrible thing to say."
"I know-but I didn't start the gossip. He's going to think over what you told him, he says. He's smart. He'll keep you interested in him-you two'll get real close. You'll keep it clean. But will he?"
April's lips thinned. "I'm sure he will. I can see to that. Good night."
She turned and strode from the room. She still seethed as she closed the door of her own room and put the class papers on the dresser. She slipped out of her robe and stood clad in a sheer negligee through which her skin glimmered and light played, silhouetting breasts and legs.
She studied herself critically. Nothing about her image justified Peg's innuendos. She was attractive, she knew-but she was not a mantrap. Only a man with a diseased mind would think of her as one-and Bill's mind was not diseased. He admired her, she knew-but to accuse him of deliberately plotting to seduce her was unjust.
A new, slightly disturbing concept touched her.
She flung around, snapped off the light and dropped into bed. She stretched out but could not relax. Now that the thought had come to her, she wondered how much Bill's masculinity distorted her own judgment.
She sat up, pulling her knees under her chin and clasping her legs, frowning darkly into the shadowy room. She told herself again that she was being ridiculous.
Her chin lifted. Her jaw set. She would show Peg. She would get to Bill Collins, make an honor student of him. He had the brains for it. She would keep his young animal spirits under control.
She lay still visualizing and planning her next step. If she could influence and shape Bill, she might influence and tame the wild bunch of which he was supposed to be the leader.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning at breakfast Peg seemed to have forgotten the discussion of the night before. April felt guilty about still clinging to shreds of anger and banished resentment from her mind. But not her determination to pursue the course she had chosen regarding Bill.
A new eagerness carried her through the day to Bill's chemistry class. When he trooped in with the other students, her eyes fixed expectantly on him. With hardly a glance at her, he said a final word to his friends, walked to his seat directly before her desk and dropped into it.
April's bright hopes fell with a dull thud and she felt both foolish and angry with herself. Of course, he would not have made up his mind so soon. He would have to shake off his past, undirected momentum. She had let last night's arguments and her later plans make her too impatient. Nevertheless, through the class period, she could not help an occasional searching glance at him.
When the bell rang he merely gave her a passing smile-friendly enough-and walked out with the others. April slapped her rollbook down on the desk and silently lectured herself about being patient.
But the scene repeated itself one way or another for the rest of the week. On alternate days, the class had lab work and this meant Bill remained after class to replenish supplies and tally breakage. He gave her no opening to resume their earlier conversation, nor did he volunteer anything she could interpret as increased interest in his studies. By Friday night April was ready to shake him in sheer exasperation but he was even more hurried that night-and she knew that what he had in mind was preparation for the next day's football game.
April sat in the stands that sunny fall afternoon and watched the game. Actually, she admitted to herself, she watched Bill Collins. He was a different person out there on the field. Sure of himself, alert, commanding, April saw him as a man. She had to remind herself constantly that the jersey-clad, powerful and decisively moving body belonged to a boy in her class-a student. Out on the field he seemed to have little to learn about anything. The home team won, but in April's mind, Bill Collins had won.
Crushed in the out-flowing crowd from the stands, she suddenly found herself pressed against Judson Gray. She thought his wide smile held smirking memory and tried to edge away. But the tightly packed crowd permitted no escape.
He said, "And how have you been?"
"Fine, thank you."
He ignored the ice in her voice. "I've been intending to call you. But between the store and this factory business, I've not had a free moment."
"Until now?" She gave him a skeptical smile.
"That's right. Look, how about a cocktail?"
"Sorry, I can't."
"Dinner tonight?"
"I have a date."
"Oh, I see." They were pushed along a few steps and joggled together several times. "Maybe another time-say this week?"
"Very busy-all week."
His eyes darkened. "You're making it pretty plain."
"Am I? I intend to."
"How does a man say he went out of line and he's sorry?"
"He just says it."
"Okay, I've said it. How about a chance to make up for it?"
They were suddenly expelled through the narrow gate and the crowd pressure vanished. She stepped away from him, smiled briefly.
"Very thoughtful of you, Mr. Gray, but I really wouldn't care to run the chance again. Good seeing you, though. Goodbye."
He raised a hand to check her but April whirled and pushed her way through the crowd, glad that the human bodies behind her formed an obstacle against pursuit. She felt virtuous, glad she had put Judson Gray in his place.
Yet when she climbed into her car and drove slowly toward the street, she felt a touch of regret. Perhaps she should not have been so curt with him. No man was a saint-nor did she have a right to demand that Judson Gray be one.
April spent a lonely evening. Peg had a date and left early. April made a dinner of sorts for herself. She watched television but could not get interested, and finally turned off the set.
Finally she put on a coat and went out for a drive. She cruised aimlessly through the dismal, dark business section of town, then took the highway out to the prairie. She gave no thought to destination until she saw the high neon of the Corners ahead. She slowed her speed, looking for a turn-around, but found none. She came to the tavern and motel, saw the line of cars before the building and under die trees. On an impulse she braked to a stop, killed her engine, cut her lights.
The place seemed less active than it had been when Jud had brought her here. But she saw a couple come out of the tavern and walk in close embrace into the motel court. They seemed to be teenagers. She watched them go to a cabin. The boy unlocked the door. He turned to the girl, who came into his arms. After a long embrace the two went into the unit and the door closed.
April sighed. Jud had been right. Perhaps Peg was right also. These boys and girls had more immediate pleasures in mind and at hand than working for an indefinite future. Or the drab, unpromising future they saw all about them in town. She decided to go home.
She bent to turn on the ignition key and froze, looking through her windshield. Another couple appeared-and this time the boy's dark figure was familiar.
The boy and girl rounded the tavern, headed directly for the motel. She saw Bill Collins plainly.
April sat almost in shock. It was one thing to be told about Bill, another actually to see him with a child strumpet. April's fist slammed down on die rim of the steering wheel.
Strumpet. That's all she is....
She started the motor and drove back toward town as though she were fleeing some danger.
April welcomed Monday. She had come to a decision regarding Bill Collins. If he chose to run loose she would waste no more time or concern on him. She would have an answer from him one way or another-today.
She concealed her feelings as she moved from bench to bench during the chem lab, watching each student, making adjustments in apparatus, explaining a process. When she came to Bill, he gave her a grin over a test tube he held above a bunsen burner.
She asked coldly, "Questions?"
He looked at her in sharp surprise. "No, I'm coming along all right."
She sensed his eyes on her as she moved along. The bell rang soon afterward and the students collected their material, cleared the work benches and left. April returned to her desk in the adjacent lecture room, waited until they had all filed out. She studied her class notes for the next day until the corridors were empty and their silence seemed to echo throughout the building.
She heard small sounds from the lab as Bill went about his duties. She closed her notebook and listened. Her moment had come. She waited until he had ended his chores, then walked into the lab and asked an unnecessary question.
"Finished so soon?"
"Most of the kids have lost their butterfingers."
She smiled and walked to the window. She heard him move slightly behind her and turned. He stood a few feet away.
"I've been wondering what you've decided about college. Is it such a problem to make up your mind?"
"I guess not, if I forget the plans I was sort of making."
"What plans?"
"Oh-working for dad and making money on my own. Running around with the bunch."
"And trips to the Corners?"
He tensed a moment then grinned. "That place bugs you."
An angry reply came to her lips but she held it back. "We're talking about you. I've told you what you're capable of doing if you want to."
He looked slowly about die lab and the laughter left his eyes.
"I like this," he said slowly. "I feel right fooling around with the stuff and equipment. It's fun to watch an experiment work out."
"I told you-you belong in science."
His head turned back to her. "How did you come to know that?"
"I could see it from the start."
"Well, you're the first teacher who ever did." He made an angry grimace. "The only time anyone notices me is when I'm playing football or in trouble. They give me a pat on the back for the one and a kick in the pants for the other."
April laughed. "And sometimes I feel the same urge."
He did not smile in return. "The way the town is, there's nothing to do-no job you can depend on, no future. What makes another place different? Suppose I make a career, move out, settle somewhere else. What's to keep the same thing from happening wherever I go?"
"Maybe you can prevent another town's dying. All that's needed here is a new industry."
He stood close to her, vital and young, his eyes questioning hers. April felt a little shock pass through her and looked hastily away. She was suddenly appalled at what she had promised him-how could she completely guarantee his future?
"What about me is so different? Why haven't you picked on someone else?"
"I-have faith in you."
After a long moment Bill asked in a softer tone, "How do we go about it? Let's say I decide to go along with you."
"Have you decided?"
"Well, I won't knock a thing until I've tried it. I can't see what high grades this last year will do after-well, what you called my irregular work."
"The grades will help. But the main thing is for you to find yourself in something you want to do. You'll see. Work hard this year in every subject. Enter college next year. Major in a science-maybe chemistry. I'm willing to bet that after the first year you'll have a science scholarship."
"Say I do-that's a year after next. What happens now? How do you help?"
"You'll do the regular assigned work, Bill. But I'll give you additional coaching in college chemistry, advanced experiments and study. I have two free periods-and we could stay after regular hours. I'd be glad to do it."
He stared at her. "You and me-we'd work together? You'll put in extra time?"
"So will you. You'll have to give up a lot of things outside school-afternoons and maybe evenings. Are you game?"
"Okay, it's a deal."
"Bill!"
She took an involuntary step toward him. He thrust out his hand.
She accepted it and his strong fingers wrapped around hers. He leaned slightly toward her. She felt her body respond subtly to his maleness-but not in any way she could not control.
Her eyes met his levelly. She felt the slight tightening of his grip. Then his gaze grew veiled and he dropped her hand, stepped back.
"When do we start?"
"Soon-I have to dig out my university texts. In a few days."
His disappointment showed. "Sure. Any time. You let me know."
He swung about and walked out. She heard the fading echo of his steps cross the next room, die out in the corridor. April closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She had committed herself.
CHAPTER TEN
The fading mellow sun of October streamed in the windows and across the lab bench, reflecting off the glass of bent tubing and burbling liquid in a stoppered bottle over a low bunsen flame. April and Bill stood side by side, heads close, watching the reaction. His notebook lay to one side.
The liquid boiled up and through the tubing to another stoppered bottle. Their eyes followed the burbling flow, watched moisture form inside the empty bottle. Bill's gaze moved slyly from the experiment in progress to April's face. Her lips had pursed slightly and he studied the soft curve of them, noted the smooth, soft texture of her skin, the way her dark lashes curled. He caught a faint fragrance from her hair and his fingers, spread on the bench, curled and taloned.
She looked around suddenly and his eyes instantly jumped to the glass and boiling chemicals.
"See how it works, Bill?"
"I see, all right." His voice sounded oddly smothered.
"Turn out the flame. The action's over. You'll find the catalytic agent unchanged there. Make up your notes and the experiment's done."
He turned out the flame. She straightened as he started writing in his notebook. She removed her white smock and stretched die kinks out of shoulders too long bowed over the bench. His pencil halted, poised as he watched her breasts strain against the soft knit material of her dress.
He moistened his lips. "April, I think I'm missing this catalysis theory."
"Oh, Bill! It's all in the texts."
"I've read them but they don't make sense. Sometimes talking a thing out makes it clear."
She glanced at her wrist watch. "Gosh, Bill, by the time you make up notes and we dismantle this for tomorrow's class-"
"Too late," he agreed. He hesitated, plunged. "But maybe tonight we could go over the text-"
Her face fell in honest disappointment. "I wish I could but I promised Peg-Miss Mason-I'd go somewhere with her."
"Well, that's that."
"Tell you what, Bill. Try to work it out yourself tonight. Tomorrow, I'll see if you've got it. If you haven't, I'll arrange to have an evening free. Okay?"
He shrugged, then grinned. "Okay, April. I'm taking too much of your time as it is."
"I don't mind. I love it. Now, finish your notes while I start dismantling."
Later he helped her into her car in the parking lot. Daylight was beginning to purple into dusk. He spoke a polite good night, stood aside and watched her drive out of the lot and out of sight.
He strode to his car and drove home. He answered his mother's greeting with a grunt and started up the stairs to his room.
Her voice checked him. "William."
"Yes, mom?" He turned on the stair and looked down.
She said, "Clair phoned. You'd better call her back."
"Later."
"I think she's a little angry. She didn't quite believe me when I said you were doing extra study at school. I find it a little hard to understand myself."
"So what makes it a big deal, mom?"
"Oh, I'm pleased, William. And so is your father. I told him about it. We just can't believe you're taking school seriously."
"Ducky!"
"William, I'm trying to say something nice, you know."
"Sorry, Mom. It's just that I'm not used to it."
"Well!"
But he had turned and apparently did not hear. He went into his room and dropped the books on a small desk. He thudded into the small chair beside the desk and ran his fingers through his hair.
His mother's voice sounded from below. "Be sure to call Clair."
"Okay."
He glared at the chemistry text and wished he had never started on April's project. Not that he minded the study-to his surprise he found it fun. But to be beside April Williams, alone hour after hour in the lab, was torture. What had made him think he could ever make time with her?
He stared into distance, envisioning her. He could see her moving toward him in that knit job she had worn today, breasts thrust toward him, inviting touch. He saw the curve of hips and thighs under the dress as she moved. What would she be like in the intimacy he had known with girls of his own age? Would he ever know?
He stood up, restless, wanting her and knowing he would have to wait-and maybe never get her. Then he grinned. You could bet he would not understand that catalytic business tomorrow. From there he would fly by the seat of his pants. Play it slow and cool, he warned himself. Every now and then he had shaken her up, he knew. And this whole bit of her pushing him ahead had to be more than teaching zeal. He would find out what.
In the meantime....
He went out into the hall, picked up the extension phone and dialed Clair.
She greeted him with, "Well, egghead, I wonder how you found the time to remember your girl friend. Or am I still?"
He put an injured note in his reply. "Baby, what's with this? Of course, you're my girl. Who else?"
"Oh, a certain chemistry teacher, perhaps."
"An old one like that? You're flipping."
Gradually he mollified her and, in the process, envisioned her slim, naked body as he had seen it so many times. It did not stack up to what he imagined April's to be but it was real. And available.
Clair finally agreed to meet him at the malt shop and her voice, at the last, had that funny little eager sound that told him her wants matched his own. He cradled the receiver and grinned at the instrument, then frowned as he thought of April.
The sudden ring of the phone startled him. He answered.
Joyce James said, "Bill, I'm going to be lonesome."
"What?"
"Hal's working again tonight."
"Oh."
"I hope-"
"Baby, so do I. But I'm tied up. Can't make it." A silence. Then: "I see. Well-"
"Baby, if I could wriggle out, I'd be pounding on your door. You're the best."
"You mean that?"
"Think I've forgotten?" His mind worked swiftly. "Tomorrow?"
"I don't know."
"Try. I'll check you at school tomorrow." A few more words and she hung up, promising to work something out. Bill walked slowly back to his room. How screwed up could life become? He wanted a woman he could not have and two perfectly good chicks cried for him. He caught his reflection in the mirror and gave it a salute. "Bill Collins, the great lover boy. Weep, man, weep."
He met Clair at the malt shop and the minute he saw her he knew how the evening would go. She wore a sweater that kept his mind on his reason for being here. She took his hand under the booth table and squeezed it hard and her leg pressed against his. A sultry, eager gleam shone far back in her eyes.
They ordered cokes and Clair lit a cigarette with an impatient gesture. She continued to hold his hand even after he moved it up her thigh, pressing his fingers deep into her soft flesh.
Bill forgot both April and Joyce. His restless urges reached an explosive stage and he wanted to let diem blast.
He said, "Let's blow this scene."
"Where will we go?"
His fingers taloned gently into her upper thigh. "Guess."
"I ought to go home," she teased. "It's early. We'll be back before the folks lock you out."
"But I thought you had to study. Miss Williams will be so disappointed."
"What do I owe her?"
"You tell me."
"Nothing. We're wasting time."
She hesitated but did not remove his hand. He began to get angry and suddenly snatched it away.
He said, "I've wasted enough. I'll-"
Clair said hastily, "Okay, if you say so."
He grinned tautly. "Now you tell me."
Clair stood up without a word and he followed her out of the place.
He contained himself until they were well out on the dark highway. Then he suddenly cut to die road shoulder, switched off motor and lights and hungrily turned to her. She met him with avid mouth and straining body.
He broke off the kiss, swore and started the car again. Clair clung fiercely to him as he sent the car hurtling down the road.
Her sudden question cut through the fog of desire that swirled in his brain.
"Is Miss Williams nice?"
"Who?"
"Miss Williams. You've seen a lot of her lately-after class and all."
He slanted a glance at her. Clair stared straight ahead along the tunnel his headlights cut into the night.
He asked, "Why does everyone act like I'm nuts about her or something?"
"Are you?"
"I like her. She's helping me with chemistry and there's nothing wrong with that unless-" he slowed the car-'some squares think there is. Do you?"
"I've heard dungs, that's all. I didn't say I believe them."
He scowled and she touched his leg. "Forget it. What's it matter tonight?"
The car picked up speed and eventually, far ahead, the lights of the Corners twinkled and beckoned.
Bill went into the tavern, came out in a few moments. Clair jumped out of the car at his impatient signal and they hurried to a cabin. The door slammed behind them and she came into his arms.
Her body moved sensuously, demandingly. He fumbled with buttons and her sweater fell open. His hands moved over her warm, smooth skin to her back and swiftly worked with the brassiere.
She clung to him, but now her head fell back, neck arched. Her lips parted as he moved his hands up under the loose bra and cupped the white mounds in his hands, fingers moving to nipples that tensed under his touch.
Clair's hands became busy with his clothing. They moved to undress each other in a kind of practiced frenzy. They broke apart with one accord. In a few moments she lay naked on the bed and Bill dropped beside her. She pulled his head to her breasts. His hands roved over her as his passion grew.
At the last instant she held him off.
"Like me?" she asked.
He pressed against her but her braced arms foiled him. "Like me?"
"I want you-"
"More than anyone?"
His answer came gustily and choking. "Just you-you're all I want."
Her resistance vanished and she accepted him. Her gasp echoed in the silent room. Her fingers raked down his bare back as her wanton body shook with ecstatic tremors, meeting his movements with fierce demand.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They had finished their discussion of chemical valences. April served sandwiches and coffee. Bill gratefully accepted. April seated herself in the big easy chair across the room from him to sip coffee and watch him attack the sandwiches.
She thought he looked more adult here than in the classroom-the domestic setting made him loom larger and he moved with total ease and confidence, as he had that day on the football field. His chest was blocky and powerful under the pullover sweater. He did not sprawl as he did in class.
Bill, on his part, thought April was much more woman here in her own home. She had put aside her prim classroom manner and even her dress, though he had seen it before at school, looked less a teacher's costume for all its basic plain lines. Or perhaps she simply wore it differently. He found it hard to keep his eyes from the shapely, silk-sheathed expanse of underleg that she unwittingly disclosed as she sat at ease.
He glanced toward the dark hallway, wondering when Peg Mason would return. He was sorry April did not live alone. He would have liked a chance to work, slow and easy, toward a pass. If he went over, and Bill had a strong feeling he would, the rest would be easy. There were bedrooms upstairs. But he wanted plenty of time, no interruptions. Mentally he cursed Peg Mason.
April suddenly stood up and came to refill his coffee cup. She bent to pour and the low V of her dress fell away from her body. Bill had a brief glimpse of vibrant soft flesh. He fumbled for a sandwich. She straightened and the vision was gone.
She returned to her chair, crossed trim, long legs, adjusted her full skirt. He had an impulse to jump up, go to her and take that lovely body into his arms. He fought the urge.
April did not notice. She cast her mind back over the progress she had made with Bill. It was considerable as far as his chemistry grades were concerned and he had even raised his marks in other subjects. Besides, she and Bill were friends now as well as teacher and student. She had been able to hold him at exactly that distance without angering him. She now felt that he trusted her and that she could make the next step in her plan.
She said casually, "Bill, you've never said anything about your friends-or your girls."
"Didn't think you'd want to hear."
"But I do. They're part of your life."
He made a dismissing gesture. "Just guys and chicks-girls. What's there to tell? You know how it is."
"I don't at all. Tell me-about your girl."
He hesitated and she wondered if she were pressing him too soon. Bill studied her sharply and she saw small bright points far back in his eyes. Then his expression grew blank.
"Clair? Nothing much to tell about her. We go around a lot."
"Your steady?"
"In a way. It's nothing we decided on. It just happened."
April smiled. 'If you love her, you'd better decide. A girl likes to know these things."
"Oh, I see another girl now and then. I guess I'm not really in love with anyone just yet."
"That's wise enough. Just so the girls know where you stand. What about your other friends?"
"The bunch? We sort of got together maybe two years or so ago. All of us like cars and things like that."
"But not school?"
He grinned. "Not very much-except that now I'm beginning to like it."
"Well, maybe you can talk it up to a friend or two. You'd be doing them a favor."
A sound came at the outside door and it opened. Peg came in, bringing with her a brief scent of brisk autumn air and burned leaves. April hid a little frown.
Peg said, "Looks like school finally ended for the day."
"There's coffee," April offered. "Thanks. Be right back."
She disappeared. When she came back into the room, she had shed the heavy coat and the head scarf. She gave Bill and April a sharp, quick appraisal, walked to the table and the coffee pot. Bill's eyes followed her appreciatively. For an old one, he thought, Peg was stacked.
Peg filled her cup, drank, looked at her watch. "I didn't know I'd walked so long."
Bill stood up, taking the hint. April made a faint protest but he gathered up his notebook and said he was expected at home. Peg said nodding, merely sipped her coffee. April walked with him to die door.
"See you tomorrow."
"Sure, Miss Williams."
"April. I thought we'd agreed."
He smiled down at her. He shot a glance at Peg in the living room, eased back on his heels. "Night, April-and thanks."
She closed the door and walked back to the main room. Peg had dropped into her chair. April sat down and Peg finished her coffee.
"When's our boy coming back again?"
"I don't know. When he needs me."
"He should've stayed. He needs you so badly right now he would have liked to slit my throat when I came in.
"I've never seen so much as a hint of anything like that from Bill."
"Honey, chemistry's filled your eyes, then. That young man is working out a formula to get you into bed."
April stirred angrily. "Peg, sometimes I think you're all cynicism and nothing else. I know better, of course, but sometimes you make it hard for me to understand you."
Peg started to reply but saw that April was truly angry. She shrugged. "Okay, mark me wrong."
Mollified, April said, "He's just beginning to talk about his friends-and his girls. In a short time I think I can reach them through him."
"Hooray-hope you do."
"I will. Then there'll be no more trouble with that bunch. Won't Mr. Gray be surprised."
Peg's eyes widened. "So now it comes out-you're doing this for Jud Gray. I thought you were just trying for a merit badge."
"Oh, he's just incidental. It's the kids I want to help." Peg stood up. "Does Jud know about your project?"
"Not really. He may have heard about Bill."
"If he does, he'll think you've lost your head unless you explain to him. And if you do, he may still think m so.
"I don't care what he thinks."
Peg spoke carefully. "Honey, don't get too mad at me for a bit of straight talk. I'll bet Bill Collins has made a lot of boasts about you to his friends. They're wild-so you can imagine what kind of thing they'll be spreading. You'll be marked down as his woman."
April flashed, "But it's not true. I-"
"Of course it's not," Peg cut in. "But that won't matter a bit, honey. You've taken an interest in Bill Collins, stayed after school with him, invited him here. I know why and I love you for it, though I think it's a wrong move. But-Bill may have said all sorts of things."
"But what could he have said?"
"Men boast, honey, and boys on the verge of manhood are even worse. Bill's the leader and all he'd have to say is that you'd be a tiger in bed and his friends will assume he knows."
April sat quite still. Peg shook her head.
"Do one of two things, honey, is my advice. Break this thing up or go to Jud Gray, the principal, anyone, and tell them exactly what you're trying to do. Some of these days, one of those kids will let something slip to a parent, some adult. It'll get back to the school. You figure where you'll stand if that happens."
April did not move or speak. Peg came to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She asked softly, "Mad at me?"
April shook her head. Peg sighed, impulsively kissed her and left the room. April heard her go up the stairs, move about up there and then all was silence. April stood up, turned off the lamp and walked across the dark room into the hallway. She checked the door and slowly mounted the stairs.
She shut the door of her room behind her and crossed to the windows through which a distant street lamp sent light broken by the stark shapes of bare autumn tree limbs. She stood there for a long time.
She tried to tell herself that Peg had let her imagination run away with her-yet the fact remained that Bill had a reputation as a great lover and if the thoughts Peg had expressed had occurred to Peg, they would occur to other people. And at least a part of Bill's fame had to have originated with his kissing and telling.
But would he lie about his friendship with her? April shook her head. She would gamble that he would not betray the warmth that had developed between him and her. She had to be able to depend on him.
She did not want to tell Judson Gray about her project until she knew she controlled Bill, had shaped him to a new and constructive life. If he abandoned the wild bunch the group would split up for lack of a leader. She would have done the town great service, rescued a fine young mind for science and she herself would have lived up to the finest traditions of teaching.
Her stay here, for however short or long, would then not be mere marking time. If she pulled this off, the school board would be forced to give her high and unusual recommendations.
She turned from the window, reassured, her determination renewed. She would bear with Peg's cynicism and, if there were whispers, the final results would give them the he.
She undressed and climbed into bed. She lay there a while, thinking of Bill and her eventual triumph. She smiled, then frowned.
How lonely she was, in a way. She had provided for no dates, no male companionship of her own age. She sought sleep and finally found it-a fitful thing in which she met a handsome prince of a fellow. Then the man turned out to have Bill Collins's face and she tossed restlessly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
One night toward the end of November, Peg came into April's room. April had gone to bed and turned out her light. Peg sat down on the edge of the bed and stopped April when she reached for the light switch.
"Leave it alone, honey. I can't even stand myself in hair curlers and face grease. Besides, I'll only a be minute."
April sat up and hugged her knees beneath the bed clothing, her back against the headboard. A match flared brightly as Peg lit a cigarette. She exhaled noisily then spoke abruptly.
"You and I are in one of the finest ruts I've ever seen."
April laughed. "Well, I must say it's a busy one."
"Still a rut. Something's indicated."
"What?"
"A party. We fill these empty rooms with bodies, male and female. We drink, eat and maybe do a little dancing-" .
"I'd love it. But-"
"But nothing. We've had faculty teas and student dances coming out of our ears. Now let's throw a whinger for ourselves. Okay?"
"Forget the curlers and grease," April said and turned on the light. "Whom would we invite?"
"Strict limit of two teachers-you and me. Beyond that, any other profession, size or sex."
April's face fell. "I don't know anyone outside the school."
"Just the point. More people, especially men, should see you, honey." Peg's fingers caressed April's arm briefly, then withdrew. "I think I can scrounge up a passable list. Leave it to me?"
"If you leave the rest of the planning to me."
"A deal."
Peg threw bare arms wide, yawned luxuriously. "Honey, you and I will dress like a couple of femmes fatales. If we're lucky, nothing very good will come of that." Peg's magnificent body seemed to exude vitality through the thin material of her negligee. She stroked her hands down along her hips in a frankly sensuous gesture. "I think I could make die fatale grade, don't you?"
"Never a doubt."
Peg's eyes traveled over April's bare shoulders, lingered long on the curves of the barely concealed breasts, slid away. She grinned.
"Of course, mine's an older model. So you'll give me competition like I've never had before. Honey, it's a shame the way you waste that body."
"Not waste, Peg. It's just that the right person has to come along."
Once more Peg lightly touched her arm. Her fingers lingered an instant and pulled away. She smiled and stood up, a light in her eyes.
"Okay, honey. That's all for tonight. Think it over and we'll compare plans in the morning."
When she left, April turned out the light. She could still feel the warm touch of Peg's hand on her arm and it bothered her. Did she do Peg an injustice-was she experiencing nameless tendencies in herself? She sat a moment in die darkness, frowning and troubled. Then she shook her head. No-her human relations were normal. She eased slowly down under the covers, dismissing the troubling thoughts.
The next two weeks seemed to fly. Preparations for the party grew more exciting to April with each day. When Peg showed her the guest list, April was surprised at the extent of Peg's acquaintance among the unmarried men and women in the area. Not another teacher was on the list.
"I might add a name or two the last minute," Peg said.
"Heavens-where will we put even these?"
"There's always room for one more."
Classes at school also kept April busy. As the term progressed, work intensified. Time grew short for the laggards to catch up. April felt pleased that there were not many backward students in her classes but even those she had required extra attention and effort on her part.
Bill Collins still took her time, though he had begun to work on his own. She could leave him alone in the lab with no fear that he would fall behind. His grades were high and not only in chemistry.
Once, in the teachers' section of the school cafeteria, April overheard a remark that secretly elated her. At the end of the long table where she sat, a math instructor compared notes with a colleague from the English department. April's head lifted sharply when she heard, "You say Bill Collins stands in the top five in your class?"
"I hardly believe it, but that's right." The math teacher shook his head wonderingly. "When he came into my class the first day, I thought I'd have a real problem. But he's taking to math like a duck to water."
"Let's hope so. I wonder who or what reached Collins?"
They stood up and moved away, leaving April to finish her coffee in a pleased, triumphant glow. So she had been right.
On the afternoon before the party, the school played its last football game with its traditional rival and won. The season ended in a burst of glory and excitement spread over the whole town. April and Peg felt the gala atmosphere as they dressed for the evening.
Peg hummed the school song as she came down the hallway from the shower. She looked in on April and gave a wolf whistle that brought April around with a start.
"Just sizing up the competition, honey. Too bad skimpy costumes went out with Roman orgies. You'd stand them on their heads in bra and panties."
April laughed self-consciously. "I don't think I'd enjoy seeing people standing on their heads."
"How about just drooling?" Peg asked and disappeared.
Dressed at last in a clinging sheath with a low-cut, square neckline, April gave herself a final, judicious survey in the mirror. Satisfied, she hurried out into the hall and downstairs to make last minute checks.
Soon guests began to arrive. Though most of them were strangers to her, April soon found herself at ease with diem. They ranged in age from just under thirty to a little above forty, she judged. Some of their names she had seen on business establishments around town-others were from neighboring communities. Peg really got around, April thought in some amazement and began to understand Peg's many phone calls and absences at night or over weekends.
Before long, the big main room was filled and the overflow moved into the kitchen and hallway. April and Peg busied themselves mixing drinks until Peg tagged one of the men to act as bartender for a time. Late guests showed up and April began to feel a wonderful relaxation from the steady routine of the past months.
She heard the door chimes as she moved down the hallway toward the kitchen. She veered to answer it and threw the door wide. Her welcoming smile faltered when she saw Judson Gray, bundled in an overcoat.
He grinned. "Good evening, April. I hear there's a party going on."
She recovered. "Of course. Come in." She indicated the little hall closet. "Coats in there. Will you excuse me? Big errand."
She fled before he could answer. She saw Peg in close conversation with the volunteer bartender and gave her a covert signal, turned to check the hors d'oeuvres.
When Peg came up, April whispered, "Judson Gray just came."
"Why not? I invited him."
"I thought you said no school people except us."
"He is not a teacher, honey. He's school board. Besides, he's unattached and very popular." Peg's voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I did it with mahce aforethought honey-for your benefit."
"Mine?"
"The Bill Collins business. Talk's getting around. Jud will probably agree with what you're doing-if he hears it first from you."
"But I don't have to tell him anything."
"No-not yet. But don't let his coming spoil your fun."
"I wish you had warned me."
"You left the guests to me, honey."
Peg smiled and walked away. April could only mingle with the guests. She tried to avoid Jud and succeeded for a while but finally he cornered her.
He joined her conversation with another guest.
The other man asked Jud, "How's that business with the school board coming along?"
Jud frowned. "Still pending."
"I don't see how you can schedule more classes, Jud. The school's crowded as it is."
"We have to. But right now I'm not talking too much about the project."
"Oh-oh-I've let something slip."
"Not really." Jud turned to April, took her arm and she had to move along with him. He found a deserted spot near one of the windows. "How is school, April?"
"Going very well."
"The board has some good reports on you."
"That's nice. I hope I'm doing a job."
"You are. How's Bill Collins?"
She asked warily, "How do you mean?"
"How's he getting along? I hear he's taming down considerably. His father even mentioned it."
"He'll have good grades in everything, I think."
Jud's eyes sharpened over the rim of his glass. "That'll be to your credit. Mr. Collins says you're coaching Bill in advanced work."
"Well-he wanted it. I didn't think I should let that chance go by."
Jud shook his head in wonder. "How do you do it?"
"Charm."
She joked but he took it seriously. "Knowing Bill, I'd say that's about all that would catch him. Keep up die good work but watch him."
"There's nothing to watch," she snapped and then tried to smooth it over. "What's this extra class bit?"
She waited and he finally said reluctantly, "If I tell you, will you keep it a secret for a few days?"
"If you wish."
"I do. I'm trying to work several angles at once to get the town moving again. I've about persuaded the factory owners they'll go along with any reasonable deal from the community. I'm trying to push local skills and talents through the store-stuff made right here we can sell right here and maybe distribute over the country."
"That sounds wonderful. But where does the school come in?"
"Retraining program-for our unskilled workers. They know electronic components but not the theory behind them. With a little additional instruction they'll be able to apply skills they already possess to consumer products. If the town council will retool the factory for consumer items instead of government work, we may soon have us a going town with a payroll."
"That would be wonderful."
"Oh, sure, but I told you once the town fathers don't like new ideas. They're balking at this one. Whoever heard of a grown man going to school? Besides, what about the cost of all the machines? Actually, we've got many of them right now in the school shop." He broke off short. "Hey, I'm talking more than I intended until the project was all wrapped up."
She thought of her program with Bill Collins and smiled. "I think you'll win."
"Maybe I should have you at the next board meeting. I need support."
Just then a blonde with a leathery face and striking figure came up and the conversation ended. April made her excuses and left despite Jud's gesture of protest.
The party was a success. The people mingled, knew one another and had fun. April found herself cornered several times by men, was asked for dates. She refused them without quite knowing why. She could not imagine herself with free time for dating-yet she had spent many lonely evenings.
Judson caught her again in the hallway. He blocked her passage. "You've been much too busy."
"I have to take care of our guests."
"I'd say they're taking care of themselves-except for me. I have something on my mind."
"Oh?"
"You-and a dinner."
"I couldn't."
He now stood very close to her, asked softly, "Is something wrong with me?"
She remembered that night at the Corners all too vividly but saw no point in bringing it up. Surely he, too, remembered.
She tried to pass off the question. "Nothing's wrong with you. I'm just very busy."
"Not that busy, April." He leaned toward her and his eyes probed into hers. Something in her face made him draw back. He said, in polite withdrawal, "Some other time, then."
He turned and walked back into the main room, mingling with the others. During the rest of the party she saw him only across a room. Not once did he look at her.
When the last guests had gone, Peg closed the door behind them and sank against it with a tired sigh. April, seated wearily in a chair, heard the final car come to life outside and purr off down the street.
Peg dropped onto a chair and looked over the cocktail and highball glasses that seemed to be everywhere, at ashtrays piled high with debris.
"Do we have the strength to clean up or leave it until tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
"Amen." Peg lit a cigarette. "You made a hit with the men, honey. Get any offers?" April nodded. "I turned them down."
"Why?"
"I never did give a date the first time I met a man. Makes a girl look too eager."
Peg sighed. "Wait till you're as old as I am. But why did you turn down Jud Gray?"
"How did you know I did?"
"I was seated on the dark stairway with-it doesn't matter who. I heard the thing between you."
April started to explain, knew she could not to this worldly woman.
After a moment's silence Peg said, "You'll be lucky if he asks you again."
"I don't care."
"You will. Take me, honey. I've never had a chance with him. I draw the secret dates with faculty or board members, or with some of the men you saw here tonight.
But that young and handsome stuff? Never so much as a pass."
"He can throw a good pass, all right," April blurted before she thought.
The cigarette Peg was lifting to her lips paused. Then it completed its journey and Peg puffed on it. "I've met just a few girls who didn't like passes from men."
April stood up. "Let's forget it-and the clean-up. I just want to drop into bed and sleep forever."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early in December, April received a totally unexpected invitation to dinner at the Collins home. A friendly note written by Mrs. Collins arrived in the mail and the next day, April asked Bill about it at school.
He chuckled. "Mom wants to meet you. She says you must be some kind of magician, the change you've worked with me."
"It's very nice of her but-dinner?"
His smile vanished. "I hope you can come. I guess I put the idea in mom's head, in a way. Dad agreed."
"But why did you do that?"
His grin returned. "Experiment-to see what you're like when you're all dressed up and not talking chemistry."
"You and your mother make it hard for me to say no."
"Then you'll come?"
She smiled. "Of course-all dressed up as you suggest and not a single scientific word."
She phoned an acceptance and it was arranged that Bill should pick her up and drive her to his home.
She took particular care with preparing for that Saturday evening. She spent more money at the beauty shop than she should have. When she returned, Peg looked appreciatively at the new hairdo. "The Collins' espere et fils-will flip by the time the main course is served."
"Well, Mr. Collins is on the school board."
"And if the old goat has a quick eye for a beautiful female you might come back with a raise in pay, honey."
She was ready when Bill arrived. Peg admitted him as April came down the stairs. Bill looked up at her and she could tell the impact she made by the almost awed expression that swept over his face. She wore a dark sheath relieved by a bit of costume jewelry, a green stone matching her ear rings.
Bill swallowed, recovered his poise, caught Peg's knowing eyes and nearly blushed. Peg relieved the strained moment for him by opening the cloak closet door and taking out April's wrap. She gave it to Bill with a slight nod toward April.
Peg said, "Have fun, honey. Bill, take care of her."
"No worry about that."
"I'm sure there's not."
Peg disappeared into the big main room. Bill turned to April, his eyes drinking her in. He held the wrap for her and his hands lingered briefly at her shoulders before he took them away.
On the short drive through the winter streets, she became aware that he drove carefully and precisely, a bit stiffly as though he were covering nervousness. The Collins lived in the town's best residential area, a district of modern, rambling houses sitting well back on wide lawns, snow-covered now.
Bill turned into the drive before a solidly built ranch-type home. He stopped before the low but inviting doorway, hurried to assist April out of the car. As she stepped out, he held her hand a moment.
He said softly, "April, you're a knockout."
"Why, thank you, Bill."
He started to say something more, changed his mind and dropped her hand. He escorted her to the door and as they approached, Mrs. Collins opened it. She proved to be a charming, smartly dressed woman with a warmth and vitality that belied her years. In a matter of seconds, she had April liking her. Mr. Collins, whom April had previously met, fulfilled Peg's prediction. He stared at her, hovered as Mrs. Collins led April into a huge room whose picture windows looked out on the winter street. He mixed drinks all around, including one for his son.
He caught April's questioning look. "Bill's man enough to drink in his own home, I think, just so he has no reason to get one illegally elsewhere."
They settled down to talk. Mrs. Collins covered her shrewd probing of April's background with charm. Mr. Collins proved to be a genial host, almost perfect except for his sometimes undue attention to April's legs. Bill joined in and, as April expected, the conversation turned to his extra work.
The parents seemed pleased enough that their son had improved his grades and that he had found something that interested him beyond girls, dates and fast cars. Bill listened with slight embarrassment to the comments about him but now and then he flashed April a look of gratitude.
Finally the elder Collins said, "I'm not too sure about chemistry as a life work for Bill."
"But Bill has a special aptitude for it."
"That might be, but what good is chemistry in my business? Bill will take over some day. Actually, he doesn't even need college."
"I have to disagree, Mr. Collins."
He chuckled. "I won't argue with anyone as pretty as you. Anyhow, there's plenty of time."
Mrs. Collins sensed April's distress and tactfully changed the subject. They had another drink and then dinner, perfectly cooked and served. The talk afterward was lazy and general and Mr. Collins served liqueurs. Before April realized it, the evening sped by. A glance at her watch told her it was well after nine and she hastily made her excuses.
Bill helped her with her wrap and the Collinses invited her to come again. Mrs. Collins asked her son, "Will you come right back after taking Miss Williams home?"
"I don't know. Might drop by the malt shop."
Bill helped April into the car and drove away from the house. After they turned the next corner, he said, "Thanks for sticking up for me with dad."
"Why shouldn't I have?"
"No reason, I guess. Except you're the only grown-up who thinks I can pick the right friends, have a right to have fun now and then-and choose my own career."
April sighed. "You make me feel pretty old."
He glanced around, surprised. "Old?"
"Grown-up-that sort of jazz."
He grinned at her. "Well, you are a teacher."
"That doesn't make me ancient by any means. Now and then I even think of myself as a fairly presentable young woman."
He said tightly, "That you are."
She stole a glance at him. Again he sat straight and a little strained beside her, scowling out through the windshield. She could almost read his thoughts and felt a small sensuous stir. Once again Bill looked to her very much a man. She suddenly felt the emptiness of the past weeks. Yes, and months. How long had it been since she had had a real date? Since a man had kissed her?
Judson Gray came vividly to her mind, the pressure of his lips, the moving of his hands on her body. Even as she angrily rejected the picture with her mind, her body suddenly cried out for caresses. She, too, fell silent and now she shared Bill's strain as they threaded the dark streets.
He pulled into her drive and indicated the dark house. "Looks like nobody's home."
"Strange-Peg should be."
He helped her out and walked with her to the front door. He unlocked the door for her, groped for the switch and entered the hall. The house had a feeling of emptiness. Bill indicated an envelope propped against a mail receptacle on the small table under the mirror.
April pulled out the note in Peg's flowery scrawl. "Have a date, honey. Won't be home tonight. See you at school tomorrow."
April realized that Bill, standing close, had also read the note. She folded it and smiled wryly. "Abandoned, I see.
"Frightened?"
"Not really. Peg's been away before."
He said, after a second, "How about your coat?"
"Oh. Of course."
He helped her out of it, hung it in the hall closet. She watched him, sensuous warmth coursing through her. She did not want to be alone and now the hungers she had repressed earlier returned with increased strength. She was still fighting them when Bill turned, smiling, his eyes silently, youthfully questioning. She again felt the tingling attraction of him.
She heard herself saying, "Can you stay a while, Bill? I think I can make some coffee-or drinks."
"They don't expect me home until I get there."
"Then-a drink?"
"Sure."
As she wordlessly turned to the main room, she wondered what madness was driving her. She should not have offered him more to drink, should not even have asked him to stay-she ought not to be feeling as she did.
She heard herself say, "Make yourself at home. I'll fix the drinks."
In the kitchen she paused, looked back toward the living room, wondering at herself. She should send Bill home right now. He was a student and she his teacher.
This was the sort of thing that led to gossip and trouble.
She sighed. It was too late now and she did not want to send him home right away. All right, she told herself as she crossed to the liquor cabinet, make the drink, be hostess for a few minutes and then send him on his way. Snatch a moment of innocent companionship-you've got it coming. You've worked with him hard enough.
When she returned to the main room with the tray of drinks, Bill was sitting on the divan across from the television set. He accepted his drink and she was too aware of the long, comfortable expanse of cushion next to him. She placed the tray on the coffee table, took her glass and deliberately crossed to the big easy chair Peg always used.
She dropped into it, caught a flicker of disappointment in Bill's face as he lifted his glass in a slight salute. She responded, relaxed into the chair with a sigh. At once she was conscious of his hungry eyes.
She said, "Your parents are very nice, Bill."
"Sure."
She could think of nothing else to say. The eyes still hungered. She wondered what she could tell him to divert his thoughts from their obvious course-how soon before she could easily and casually dismiss him.
She sipped her drink and her logic surrendered to some inner entity that enjoyed the light in Bill's eyes. Bill seemed to grow in maturity and purpose as she looked at him-both were qualities with which she had tried to invest him. Perhaps what she experienced was a trick of the light, perhaps it was simply wishful thinking. She saw Bill's jaw set. He pulled hard on his drink as though to gain courage.
He set his glass on the coffee table. He studied her, his eyes gleaming. Her desire for him to prove himself a man raged silently at him. He stood up slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets in a gesture so boyish that the illusion of his manhood almost shattered.
But his manhood was no illusion, her body told her. Bill was a man, for all his few years.
He looked down at her, said thickly, "Maybe I'd better be going."
"Why?" she asked.
She stood up and suddenly his hands were on her arms. She looked up into his face, unable to keep her naked need-and fright at what she felt-out of her eyes. He pulled her roughly to him and his lips smashed on hers. His strong arms crushed her to his chest.
For a split second she stiffened and her lips grew cold as a shred of logic overcame her want. Then his touch, the male feel of him, swept all thought aside. Her lips moved avidly under his, parted as her tongue darted out and caressed his like a feather. His arms increased their pressure and his hand slid down to the small of her back.
His hand moved on, caressing her. She heard her own breathy sounds whisper against his lips.
He broke the kiss abruptly, said, "Damn it, April."
He swung her around toward the divan. She had a glimpse of the window, blind high, and of the darkness outside. Who might be watching there?
"Wait, Bill, wait!"
She broke free. She stood poised a moment. She could send him home now or ... She walked to the window and pulled the blind. He watched her, his face flushed with desire. She could not look at him. She took a step back from the window, halted, waiting.
A soft growl sounded deep in his throat. He seized her and this time she allowed him to whirl her around and onto the divan. She felt his hand on her knee. It moved along her leg, under the skirt. His fingers touched bare flesh and a tremor went shatteringly through her.
She whispered, "Bill-oh, Bill-"
He opened the zipper at the back of her dress and fumbled for the catch of her bra. He loosened it and his hand cupped her breast. Tension coursed through her, spreading from his touch, and she grew aware not only of his strength but his weight.
"Wait," she whispered and pushed against him. "Not here-"
He got to his feet, drew her up with him. She led the way across the room, flipped out the light. She moved without hesitation across the dark hallway and up the stairs. He followed her. Alarm screamed in her brain but could not overcome what she felt. She turned into her own room.
The window blind was high and night light, reflecting from snow, made the room's objects and Bill quite distinct. She could see the bed, the dresser, the rectangle of the window, Bill's dark, towering shape.
She turned to him, melted against him. He kissed her and her tongue darted frenziedly to meet his.
He shoved her roughly away but she understood. She shed her shoes, lifted the dress over her head, dropped it, stepped out of her slip. She stood before him clad only in hose, dangling bra and thin silk panties, watching him undress. He gasped at the sight of her and, in a moment, the brassiere fell. As he reached for her again, her full breasts lifted to his kiss, the caress of tongue over tense, wanton nipples. She clutched his head tighter to her and he carried her to the bed.
She sprawled there wantonly as he removed the last of their clothing. Then his body, hard-muscled and lean, met hers fully. She responded to his strength, pulling him to her. She looked up into his face and saw the man she wanted him to be. Her hands guided and directed and then his weight descended.
She gasped his name as he filled her. She demanded-he gave and she demanded more. Arms and legs entwined, they discovered oneness in motion. She knew ecstatic waves of completion, each stronger, more overwhelming than the one before. She was dimly aware that her fingers raked down his back, clutched at his moving hips....
Ecstasy mounted to pain, excruciating, ineffable and mingled with joy. She felt she could stand no more-yet she strove. Her head fell back and her arms threshed as her body moved to his. Peak upon peak of joy....
Her voice came in a muffled, gasping cry as she reached the highest peak and slid down into wave after wave of spasmodic ecstasy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He did not want to go but April had insisted. He did not want to waste the time, for the evenings were all too short, yet she had demanded he obey. This afternoon, alone in the lab, she had held him close and kissed him. Both of them had kept wary eyes and ears on the closed door, the sound of the janitor far down the hall.
She had said, "We've been very foolish, darling. But let's not completely lose our heads."
"But it'll take an hour-maybe more."
"I'll wait." Then she worried. "It will put you home well after midnight, though."
"Who's to know? Not dad and mom. If they're not asleep, they'll be out somewhere. But if you're worried, we can skip this idea of yours."
"No, we don't dare." She had kissed him again. "Other people can guess or get suspicious, too. I'll wait."
So now, after dinner, he pulled his car through the slush to the malt shop and parked. He sat a moment, scowling through the steamed windows at the wavering shapes of the boys and girls inside. He grunted angrily, switched off the motor and got out.
Warmth, talk, laughter and music beat at him as he entered the shop. The booths were all occupied, as was every stool along the counter. He waved casually to a teammate who called out his name. He grinned at a girl who gave him big adoring eyes as he passed her. He saw Hal and Joyce in a rear booth, caught the golden crown of Clair's head above the high back of the booth.
She looked around and up at him as he swung in and dropped down to sit beside her. For an instant her eyes glowed. Then they grew cold and her lips thinned.
She demanded, "How do you know that's not taken?"
"I don't. But if it is, I'll leave when the guy comes along. Okay?"
She glared, tossed her head and spoke to Hal. "Meet Bill Collins. I don't know if you remember him."
"Oh, cut it out," Bill snapped. He caught himself and said more reasonably. "I've been busy."
"Don't I know," Claire said. "Even during the Christmas holidays. I saw you-let's see, four times in two weeks."
Joyce looked on from across the booth. Her dark eyes held an accusing light, which she quickly veiled as Clair turned to her in elaborate sarcasm.
"Our Top Cat's so busy with books, he's forgotten his friends."
"Cool it," Bill said. He held back his anger. "I'm here, ain't I? Cokes or something around?"
"To celebrate?" Clair asked acidly. "Okay. Sorry I butted in."
He started to get up but she stopped him. "Oh, sit down. It's cold out."
"And inside, too."
Joyce spoke up. "Stay, Bill. Please." She added quickly and casually: "You're here and we haven't seen you around. What's doing?"
He settled down and signaled the kid who served the booths. He ordered a round of whatever they wanted, a coke for himself. He saw that Clair had suddenly become very much aware of Joyce. Clair's eyes darted suspiciously from Joyce to Bill.
He pretended not to notice, spoke easily to Hal. "They let you off tonight?"
"For once. And I want to make it count. We were talking about the Comers. How about it?"
Bill involuntarily looked at Clair, who paid careful attention to her soda. He felt a stab of jealousy and then wondered why he did. He had a real woman now, whose mature passion gave him more than any schoolgirl could. Critically he eyed her breasts that had once so delighted and maddened him.
Still, he had to ask her, "You going along?"
She started a retort, thought better of it. "We're just talking-not doing."
He recognized her implied invitation but thought of April waiting for him. He said nothing and Clair dug savagely into the ball of ice cream in the bottom of the glass.
Hal asked, to break the strain, "When are you getting off this study lack?"
"When teacher lets him," Clair said.
Bill pushed his empty coke glass away. "So what's the big deal? Am I robbing a bank or something?"
Joyce answered soothingly, "It's just that the bunch misses you. We don't have as much fun as we used to."
"Oh, don't we? Speak for yourself."
Clair glared across the table and Joyce flushed. Hal looked curiously at his girl and then at Bill, aware of Clair's sudden jealousy.
He fidgeted a moment, then said, "Let's cut the scene, Joyce."
She started to protest, caught something in his expression and stood up without argument. Bill and Clair watched them go. Bill glanced at his watch.
Clair asked, "What's your rush?"
"Study. Corning to the end of the term."
She gathered up purse and coat. "Yes, aren't we?"
She pushed angrily against him and he came to his feet to let her out of the booth. She stood tensely facing him and he caught a glint of moisture in her eyes. Her chin came up, though it trembled slightly.
"How long has it been going on?"
He asked in honest wonder, "What?"
"You and Joyce? And Hal is your best friend!"
His mouth dropped open but before he could recover, she flounced around and almost ran to the front door and out. Bill caught the curious glances from an adjoining booth and, grabbing his coat, hurried after her.
Clair ran away. Bill took a lunging step after her, then halted. Let her go. If he tried to make peace now the evening hours would be wasted. Besides, if she suspected Joyce, she would clear April of any cloud.
Bill watched Clair disappear into the shadows down the street. He felt both guilty and elated. Too bad about Joyce-but in a way, Clair had been right. Joyce still carried a torch and his brief affair with her had done nothing to turn out its flame.
Bill shrugged, glanced at his watch. He had fulfilled his promise to April and it had not taken nearly as much time as he had feared. He grinned and strode to his car with a mounting sense of excitement.
Shortly he reached the expressway and sped eastward. An hour later he pulled off to a side road and rolled to a stop at a motel.
He saw April in a booth in the motel's coffee shop. She looked up with a pleased smile when he joined her.
"You're early. Did you do as I asked?"
"The malt shop jazz-with the bunch and all? Sure."
She hesitated, asked. "Do you think they know about us?"
"About the extra work and the high grades-nothing else."
She sighed. "I'm glad."
He touched her leg under the table, gave it a reassuring squeeze. She looked up and he asked, "All set?"
She gave him a tagged key. The number on the tag was five.
He looked impatiently around. She cautioned him, "Order coffee like a good boy. Act like the younger brother I told them I was expecting."
"Now that's a job."
But he ordered coffee and curbed his impatience. At long last, April stood up and smiled briefly at Bill, who hastily dropped coins on the table and followed her outside.
She stepped into the unit after he had keyed open the door. She snapped on the light and Bill saw her look toward the heavy drapes drawn across the window. He turned her and kissed her and her lips avidly responded. Then she stepped free and laughed.
"Darling, at least let's take off our overcoats."
He helped her out of hers and hung it with his in the small closet. When he turned, April stood by the radio, adjusting it to soft music. She was wonderful, he thought. His eyes drank in her trim, full figure in the dark high-necked dress he had often seen her wear at school. He suddenly thought of all the dreams he used to have about her and, with a feeling of triumph, realized they had all come true. He still had difficulty convincing himself that his trysts with her were real and not a part of those former vivid dreams.
He crossed the room as she straightened from the radio. His arms went about her and she leaned back against him. He held her close, his face buried in her hair. His hands moved slowly upward, felt her breasts. She moved sensuously against him. He felt the lift of desire. She twisted about in his arms, facing him and her lips sealed his.
They abandoned themselves to passion, exhausted themselves. The music played on unnoticed as they lay naked upon the bed, embracing, surrendering to their physical and emotional needs.
At last they lay spent and side by side. April's hand rested lightly on his chest and he quietly watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts, which still bore the faint marks of his hands and lips, then he looked at the graceful arch of her neck, her face, slack and lovely with emptied passion.
She sensed his gaze and her eyes opened, deep and soft. "Happy?"
"Sure."
She hugged him. "I'm glad. I never thought anything like this would happen to me."
"Neither did I." After a moment, "How do you really feel about me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not-well-just a kid?"
"Far from it." Her arms tightened around him. Her lips caressed the side of his neck. Then she lay quite still beside him. "But I know what you mean. Bill, what are we going to do?"
"About what?"
"Us-this is all wrong, every bit of it."
"Now, wait-"
"I mean it." She sat suddenly erect.
He saw her troubled face and sat up also.
"April, what's to worry? No one thinks anything about us, except that somehow you managed to get me to study. But that's all."
"They will, though."
He hastened to reassure her. "Not a chance. Look, we're fifty miles from home. Who's here from the town or school? No one. We've been careful."
She shook her head. "Sooner or later someone will get suspicious. Maybe one of your bunch-maybe the girl you used to date."
He laughed. "She is suspicious-of another girl."
"Oh?"
"Sure, a kid who turns on every time I look at her. Once she and I went to the Corners and-"
He broke off as he saw the strange expression on April's face. She looked as if he had struck her. He started to explain, thought better of it. April looked him over, slowly, all of his muscular body. Then she looked down at her own, wanton legs, flat stomach, lifted her hands to her breasts. She dropped them, looked around the dark unit.
"The Corners-motels-quickies."
He touched her bare arm tentatively and her hand swiftly covered his, firmly arresting it. She gave him a strange, soft smile.
"It's late. Hadn't you better get home?"
"There's time-"
"A long drive and-you have to go to school tomorrow." She rolled out of the bed on her side. "Get dressed, Bill. I've got a heavy day coming up, too."
He started to protest but she grabbed up her robe and swept it about her. She stood waiting, eyes level, expression firm. He had the feeling that she had suddenly changed from loving bedmate to teacher, that she would cut him as short here as she would in a classroom argument.
He dressed, his illusions of maturity and manhood evaporating under her silent waiting. He finally stood by the door, overcoat on, hat in his hand. Only then did she suddenly become soft and desirable again. She came to him and, reaching up on bare toes, kissed him.
Her firmness returned. "No. It's late. You can understand I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow."
"When?"
"I don't know. I'll talk to you later."
As he sped home down the expressway, Bill frowned down the bright headlight beams. Something had changed back there and he had the feeling things would never again be quite the same. He could not understand why.
He asked aloud, "Now what did I say-or do?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
April waited until she heard Bill's car start and pull away from the motel. She bit her hp, turned slowly to face the room.
She looked at the bed, rumpled and marked with the signs of love. She brooded achingly at the sight, then felt compelled at least to adjust sheet, blanket and pillows to hide the marks of spent turbulence.
She felt drained as she walked to the dresser mirror. She looked at herself as she would at a stranger, ran her fingers through her disarrayed hair. She loosened the robe and studied her breasts and suddenly she could feel Bill's hands and lips on them again. Her thighs and arms still felt full of him and a shiver of remembered passion chased through her.
Did she love him? Then why her faint sense of disgust? Was it caused by guilt only? The mirror seemed to accuse her silently-of what? She tightened the robe about her and faced the room again.
She imagined Bill at the Corners with the girl he had mentioned, whose reputation was even now being destroyed. She remembered other adolescents there, the wild thrill-hunting group from high school. She recalled Judson Gray's scathing words-had she joined the very activities he had condemned? And suddenly she remembered his turning to her in passion and her momentary surrender and angry fight against him.
In what great dudgeon she had fled from him! How she had castigated Judson Gray for what he had tried no to do to her. She suddenly laughed out loud without humor, an acid sound that ripped her own self-respect to shreds. Here she sat in a motel, waiting a decent time after her lover had gone. Lover was all Bill could ever be to her. She was no better than any of his pickups. A quick lay. And she was supposed to be his teacher.
She jumped up, unable to bear her thoughts. She showered and dressed, placed the unit key on the table and, at the door, turned to look around the room again. The bed accused her still and she could almost see Bill's young, muscular naked body on it again. She whipped around, snapped out the light and fled.
But the vision of him-and of herself-pursued her through the night.
At breakfast the next morning Peg said casually, "You look beat, honey. Have a bad night?"
April nodded. She had slept fitfully and now felt as though her brain and body had been beaten and drugged.
Peg poured coffee, glanced at her watch. "We've got an hour before we have to leave for the brain factory. Something bothering you?"
April answered in swift alarm, "Of course not. Why?"
"That I don't know-unless you care to tell the old woman."
April smiled wanly. "There's nothing to tell. I guess I've been working too hard."
"That could be. You came in late. I happened to be awake."
April did not look at Peg but she wondered if she should tell her. She needed a confidant and she needed advice. More than that, she needed to borrow strength. Last night she had known she had to break off with Bill. This morning her body told her she could not. Peg could help her. She nearly spoke but shame stopped her.
Peg said idly, "Lots of late evenings, honey."
"I've been-going out."
"That's for sure. Who's the romance-if you care to tell."
April shook her head and Peg chuckled. "Okay-and don't feel badly. I have a few secrets myself."
She stood up and hummed lightly as she cleared the breakfast table. In passing she dropped her hand lightly on April's shoulder. "Get this straight, honey. I'm not probing. But I do know something or someone's pushing you. If kind, old wise Peg Mason can offer a friendly ear and sympathetic heart, just let her know. Okay?"
She did not wait for an answer but smiled, squeezed April's shoulder.
After Peg had left for school April felt more miserable than ever.
Her own day at school was heavy. Final examinations were scheduled in two weeks. She had two or three laggards whom she wanted to spur on to passing grades.
But no work could allay her sense of guilt, could not wholly push Bill out of her mind. A mixture of emotions hit her full force when Bill strolled casually into the chemistry class. He dropped into his usual chair and gave no sign of remembering last night except for a swiftly suppressed burning glance in her direction.
She gave her lecture, illustrated it at the blackboard with diagrams and equations. But as she spoke and moved, she felt Bill's eyes caressing her and her body responding. Now that she knew she should stop the affair her physical and emotional complex seemed to demand him more than ever. She wondered as she spoke calmly of esthers, whether she could really be in love with Bill.
The class ended and the students filed out, all except Bill, who moved toward the lab door.
She stopped him with: "Bill, do you mind if we skip the special work today?"
He turned, glanced toward the open hallway door and the moving crowd in the corridor. "I thought I'd start the next experiment. But if you don't want me to-"
"Not today."
The corridor crowd thinned and a class bell rang. A straggler hurried by and all was silent. Bill came to her desk after closing the hall door.
He looked down at her. "Something's wrong."
"No, not really. I'm just tired and the regular work's heavy."
"Last night-something went wrong last night. Something I said."
She looked up. "No, Bill. You said nothing wrong."
He threw a glance at the closed door, suddenly bent and kissed her. April clung to the kiss even as she fought its effect on her. When she finally managed to break the kiss she sagged back in her chair.
Bill studied her. "You're getting tired of me."
"Oh, no! Never that."
He grinned in relief. "Then when will I meet you again?"
She forced a laugh. "I'll let you know-but open that door. And start the experiment tomorrow."
"As you say, teacher."
He bent to kiss her once more and then jauntily moved to the door and out into the corridor. He did not see the sudden pained look on her face.
April did not know exactly when she came to her decision. It had come to her some time after Bill had left her class. But suddenly the weight of uncertainty left her. Peg noticed the difference that evening but said nothing.
They corrected papers that night in the living room, passing the coffee pot back and forth between them. At last both had worked their way through the various assignments. They finished the last of the coffee over cigarettes. Soon afterward they went upstairs.
In nightgown and robe, April had a last minute surge of fear and uncertainty. She took a deep drag on her cigarette, crushed it out along with the new-born fears. Then she walked into Peg's room.
Peg looked up from her bed. She had been reading a novel. She dropped the book when she saw the firm set line of April's lips, patted the bed beside her and April sat down. Suddenly, for all her intentions, April didn't know where to begin or what to say. Peg waited and April thought, How nice she is, and understanding ... how really pretty, too....
Peg wore a sheer gown. Faint shadows marked her sculptured contours, clearly discernible through the thin material. Both her body and face spoke of experience and the gentle eyes promised no accusations.
April suddenly blurted, "Peg, I need that friendly ear and sympathetic heart."
"I could tell you did for some time, honey. What is it? A man? Judson Gray?"
April's smile looked twisted and hurt. "I wish it were Jud Gray. The truth will be hard to tell you."
"Try."
Suddenly April's story flooded out in tumbling words. Peg listened to the spate of facts, emotions, accusations, guilts and illicit joys. She listened to April's attempt to explain herself to herself, the tangle of motives and sensuous drives. At times, April spoke swiftly, almost precisely. Next her words came hard and tears of shame dimmed her eyes. Peg made no move, though her knowing eyes were consoling.
At last April burst into tears. Peg let her cry.
Long moments later Peg said, "Honey-honey, listen. You're whipping yourself for nothing."
"NothingI"
Peg gave a dry laugh. "You're not the first teacher to get messed up with a student right here in this school. Male or female. Teachers have and will go to bed with those teen-age studs and sexpots. I know."
April stared in wondering disbelief. Peg smiled. "Honey, I know how it is to want love and not get it. It's like starvation and when the right person comes along, fourteen or forty, it's like throwing a light switch. Nothing you did or he did, really. The current just flowed." She continued as April considered this new explanation: "You're young, April. You're beautiful and desirable. Men want you. I think something like a pass happened between you and Judson Gray."
April nodded and Peg smiled crookedly. "Bill Collins couldn't help himself, either. For that matter, Bill's on the make for anything feminine. I don't blame either him or Jud. I don't blame you, above all. You were made for love, honey, for all the cold science you've packed in your brain. I could see that the moment you walked into this house."
April smiled through the shimmer of tears. "Peg, what would I do without you? You've made me feel-if not exactly clean-at least normal."
Peg smiled at her. She took April's hand. She looked deep into April's eyes, at first with sympathy-and then, subtly, her expression changed. Her hand moved up April's bare arm, soothing and caressing. "You'll always make people want you just by looking at you. Love will inevitably come to you-"
She drew April to her and kissed her. April responded gratefully to the light touch of lips on her cheek, reached for Peg as one she could trust. Peg held her close, stroking her hair. Peg's breasts pressed against April's. Her hand moved from hair to bare shoulders and her voice formed soothing, caressing sounds rather than words.
April snuggled closer, unthinking, wanting a refuge from her tears and worries. Something in her feelings changed subtly as Peg touched the curve of her breast. The caress was gentle, arousing but not demanding or frightening. April tensed slightly and Peg's arm tightened gently about her.
Her voice sank into a deep crooning whisper. "Forget them all, honey. Just forget-put them behind you-both Bill and Jud. You'll find what you want."
"Will I?" April asked, her head on Peg's shoulder.
"Of course. Maybe where you least expect it." Peg's finger raised April's face to her own. "Anyone would love you, honey. You have only to choose."
She drew April's lips to her own in a full, lingering kiss. The shock of the contact tingled through April and, without volition, her body arched slightly to Peg's. Peg's caressing hand sent another tremor through her.
Realization clicked in April's brain. She was accepting Peg's kiss as she would one from a man. She reacted to Peg's caresses as she would to a man's. Her eyes flew wide open.
Peg broke the embrace and kiss. She stood up without haste, smiled down so warmly that April's surge of amazement and shock subsided.
"Get to sleep, honey. You'll feel better for telling me. But this affair with Bill had better end. Do it in your own way but as quickly as you can. Don't worry about loneliness or lack of love. Just come to Peg. Okay?"
April smiled uncertainly. "Okay."
Peg smiled and walked out of the room. "A drink is indicated after all this. Then off to bed and to sleep with you."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
April awoke in the morning feeling much better about Bill Collins. Peg's assurances the night before had removed April's sense of unique guilt. She had not been the only one to succumb. But, beyond this, was the implied promise that as others had emerged unscathed from their errors, so might she. But she must end the affair as quickly and painlessly as possible.
She thought of ways and means before she got out of bed. She could not anger Bill or he might deliberately create a scandal. Even more, she did not want his new interest and work in science to stop because she intended to walk out of his love life. She faced a delicate problem but one she felt she could handle.
She threw back the covers and swung out of bed. Clad only in sheer nightgown, she went to the window that overlooked the enclosed back yard and raised the blind. A pale sun reflected from a smooth blanket of snow, marred only by the delicate traceries left by food-seeking birds. Trees stood with black skeleton limbs upraised. A winter scene-melancholy but symbolic of the temporary death of whatever had passed for love between herself and Bill.
April heard a slight sound behind her and turned.
Peg stood in the doorway. "Feel better, honey?"
"Much better."
Peg smiled as her eyes swept over April. She moistened her lips. "What a photographer could do with you!"
April realized that the light from the window behind her shot through the thin gown. She stood in soft silhouette and Peg's admiring gaze evoked an involuntary response in her.
She made a startled move away from the window but Peg said, "No, honey. I've never seen you so beautiful."
Peg came toward her. Her robe opened to reveal that she, too, wore no more than negligee. Her eyes held a wanton light.
April felt something catch in her throat. She wanted to escape but could not. She stood in a strange sort of hypnosis as Peg halted, almost touching her.
Peg's voice held muted wonder. "There should be a law against such perfection."
She touched April's cheek and then her shoulder. With light-fingered deftness Peg pushed down a shoulder strap and exposed April's breast. The hand dropped away and Peg looked at the rounded flesh, the pink nipple, lips parted.
She slanted a glance up at April's face, which was slack in amazement and dawning fear. Peg straightened abruptly and her crooked grin broke the strange spell.
"Couldn't help myself, honey. Now I know why Bill went after you. Better get dressed. We'll be late for breakfast and school."
She turned on her heel and strode out and down the hall to her own room. April remained by the window, staring after her. She looked down at her bared breast, hastily pulled the strap back over her shoulder.
She dressed, troubled thoughts chasing through her mind. She recalled those first impressions of Peg that she had dismissed as impossible. Had the incident just past confirmed them? Women often behaved affectionately toward others of their sex they liked-had Peg's gesture reached beyond the normal? April felt uncertain. Were Peg's demonstrations of admiration simply the effusions of an extremely extroverted woman-or were they tentative approaches to a more intimate relationship? Love of one woman for another-sexual love?
Dressed, April turned to the door and walked slowly downstairs. Peg worked in the kitchen and April's sharp eyes could find no change in her cheerful bustling around, no subtle difference in her voice as she commented on weather, the final push at school. Peg left with a casual wave and word.
Bill Collins remained after the others had left the late chemistry class. He looked speculatively at April, who made final notations in her record book.
"How about that experiment, April?"
She looked up. "Of course, Bill. Set up the paraphernalia. I'll be in shortly."
He grinned and turned into the lab. April worked with deliberate slowness. She wanted to start her break with Bill right away and wondered how. Finally she decided simply to wait for an opportune moment-he was sure to give her an opening. She closed the record book and walked into the lab.
Bill worked at a bench. She came to him, inspected the set-up and read the experiment problems. He stood aside, watching her and April felt too aware of him.
She did not look at him as she said, "You may start the experiment. I don't think you'll need me until we have to check the results."
She turned away and he said, "April."
She faced him, striving to keep her expression impersonal. "Yes?"
He frowned. "What's with this act?"
"No act. You can handle this alone and I have work to do in there. Call me when you've finished."
His eyes narrowed. "You're treating me like I'm a student or something."
"You are, Bill."
"I'm Bill Collins, April-remember?"
His long arms encircled her waist and she found herself pulled tight against him. His lips crushed down on hers. She stiffened and then, his touch, his lips routed resistance. She felt his powerful body against hers and could not help the warmth that flooded through her. Her mouth moved under his and, for a moment, she surrendered to his embrace. Then reason and determination returned. She stiffened, broke free of his lips, though his sinewy arms still held her.
She gained control of her ragged breath. "Bill, I think we should-"
"Make love, April. You make me hungry for it."
His arms tightened and her resolve wakened. She began to struggle almost in terror and finally, violently, broke loose, stepped back. She breathed heavily, shakily. He waited, eyes too knowing and aright with desire.
"Bill, I-please-"
She was unable to force out the final words. What she had to tell him would hurt them both-but he would bear the brunt. The break would be her choice-not his-and he had fewer years to fall back on than she.
She postponed the inevitable. "Bill, we're in school. Anyone could break in and-I'll be in the next room if you need me."
"I'll need you, April."
She caught the double meaning but ignored it. She hurried into the other room, dropped into the chair behind her desk and wondered if he would follow her.
He did not. She heard faint noises as he moved about in the lab.
April took a deep breath and tried to put down the sensuous warmth he had aroused in her. Her mind lashed in cold fury at her body. After a while she again breathed evenly and her memories of other times with Bill died down to a smolder. Flames still seemed to lurk just at the edge of her consciousness, ready to burst into a conflagration in an instant. She listened to him, felt sorry for him-and for herself. She knew she could not guarantee her reactions if she let him come close to her again.
She took a slip of paper from her desk and hastily scribbled, Forgot an appointment. Will check experiment results tomorrow. A.W.
She swept up her class report and left the note on the bare desk. He would be sure to see it. She threw a glance toward the lab and fled silently out of the budding and to her car.
Just before dinner, the phone rang. Bill's low voice made her start guiltily. "You ran out on me."
She answered as firmly as she could, "The note told you why."
"Oh, sure-but it won't be that easy next time."
"Now, Bill, listen to me-"
The phone went dead. She cradled the receiver, accused herself of lack of courage but swore she would not fail the next time. She went into the dining room where Peg already sat at the table. Peg did not look up and April settled gratefully to the meal.
Again they worked on students' papers, coffee pot shuttling between them. April found the work and the silence of the house oppressive and memory of the afternoon's episode with Bill prodded her mind to restlessness. She suddenly found herself longing to be far away with Bill-free of duty and conscience and surrendering to passion. She forced the pointless yearning out of her brain.
The room came into focus as her mind cleared for a moment. Peg sat in the big easy chair, considering her through the spiraling smoke of her cigarette. April nervously refilled her cup.
Peg broke the silence. "Want to tell me about it?"
April started to shake her head then abruptly placed the cup on the table. "I tried to do as you suggested."
Peg's voice was calm statement, not question. "It didn't work."
"No."
Peg inclined her head toward the dark hall and the phone. "Was it Bill who phoned? Did you run out on him?"
April nodded. "I ran, Peg. I had to. I left a note and a phony excuse. I couldn't face making a clean break. That's pretty awful, isn't it?"
Peg crushed out her cigarette. "Not awful-just smarter than giving in to him. Forget it for now. Let's go to bed."
April gathered up her work and went upstairs. She undressed, slipped into nightgown and climbed into bed. She turned out the light and sought sleep. It would not come. She tossed restlessly. "Honey?"
The soft voice, so close, startled her. She twisted about. In the dim light, she saw Peg's full form, ghostly in negligee, standing beside the bed. Peg sat down beside her.
"Can't sleep?"
"No-damn it."
"I know," Peg said softly. "I'm like that sometimes. Maybe we can help one another."
Peg twisted to lean her back against the bed's headboard. Her arm went about April's shoulders. She drew April's head to her breasts. April felt a strangeness in their intimacy but did not pull away. Peg said nothing but her very silence held comfort.
The slow even rhythm of Peg's breath had a contagious calmness. They sat unmoving for a long time. Then, slowly, Peg's hand moved to April's breast beneath the thin material of the gown. It rested lightly there, then moved slightly, palm over the nipple. April stirred slightly but the palm remained, light as a feather.
Despite herself, April felt herself beginning to react. Peg's hand moved slowly, carefully, to bare April's breast.
She said softly, "Honey, you're beautiful."
She bent her head and her lips touched April's. A streak of sensuous fire coursed through April, so sudden and powerful that she started up, gasping.
"Peg!"
"What, honey? What's wrong?"
"This is."
"Oh?" Peg stood up. She looked down at April. Her voice held gentle patience. "A lot of people want to love you, honey."
She moved and was gone, a ghost that disappeared through the dark doorway.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Collins said, "Jud, you and I need a drink."
Jud growled, "I'd rather have one more vote for our side." The two men had just left a town board meeting.
"I wouldn't bet you'll get it. Why not settle for the drink?"
Jud smiled wearily and nodded. "Hotel bar? Meet you there."
They parted as they came out of the town hall, each going to his own car. Jud dropped his folio of statistics on the front seat, thinking how wasted the time in collecting the data had been. No matter how convincing figures might be, sheer stubbornness always won. Local unemployment, mounting steadily, remained an insoluble problem when the solution meant changing traditional ways of doing things. If the old system would not work, nothing would. Jud cursed under his breath, started the motor and wheeled out of the lot.
Collins beat him to the hotel and signaled him from a booth when Jud entered. They ordered and Jud, sighing, slumped back against the booth. The drink helped but Collins himself, just sitting there across the booth, did more to restore Jud's confidence.
Collins said, "Maynard's beginning to listen, Jud. Now that you've got the factory owners to agree to retool."
"But that means nothing unless the board goes along with the adult retraining."
"Money-that holds 'em back. Centerville can't take any more taxes."
Jud said quickly and sharply, "Now you're sounding discouraged."
"Hell, I am. But I know we have to take drastic action or well all be dead. That fact's beginning to seep through Maynard's thick skull-he's reminded every time he reads the cash register in his store. Hell come around."
"When?"
"Who knows? How long did it take me to come around?"
Jud signaled the waiter for another round. "I'd rather not say." He grinned. "By the way, what did finally swing you?"
"My kid."
"Bill?"
"Well-maybe his chemistry teacher, that Williams girl. Now there's a teacher, Jud. I wish we had more like her."
"We would if we could afford it. We'll lose her to some other community that can pay more."
"I guess," Collins sighed. "She did something to Bill I thought couldn't be done. The boy has buckled right down to his school work. Sure, he's a little too hipped on chemistry but you should see the rest of his grades. Studies at home like his life depended on it. Only now and then he'll take off with that bunch he used to waste time with."
"The whole bunch seems to have calmed down a little. Could be a coincidence-but could also be that Bill's spreading the gospel. Nick Archos is the only one to suffer and he's had it coming for a long time."
"I'd give the Williams woman credit, direct or indirect. As I said, she swung me around to your side by getting Bill to take an interest in school. Chemistry won't mean much to him, as I see it, since some day Bill will take over my business. But the business won't do him much good unless the town as a whole prospers. So-I'm voting with you."
A few moments later the two men left the bar. Back in his office at the store, Jud stood at the window looking out on the busy street. Collins had brought April Williams forcefully into his thoughts again, though he had tried to forget her. He glanced at his phone, wondering if he should risk being turned down for a date again. She could be as stubborn as the town board.
As though it happened now, memory of that night at the Corners came to him. He could taste April's lips under his, feel their brief surrender. He literally ached to know them again.
He cursed himself for having treated her on a first date as though she were any common woman. He knew that she still held what had followed the kiss against him. He glared at the phone as though the silent instrument were barring him from the woman he wanted.
At last his eyes lighted with an idea. There was more than one way to get to know a woman.
He telephoned the high school.
"This is Judson Gray," he told the girl who answered. "Will you leave a message for Mrs. Mason to call me at her first opportunity? Thank you."
He cradled the receiver and grinned at it.
The following night, Peg opened the door to his knock. He stepped in, glad for the warmth after the freezing January darkness outside. Peg, dressed in a form-fitting Itahan knit, took his coat and hat and led the way to the main room. He saw no sign of April and hid his disappointment.
Peg suggested a drink before they went out to dinner and Jud agreed, half hoping that April would make an appearance. Peg served him and sat down in a chair nearby. She raised her glass in a salute.
"Mind a question?" she asked.
"Not at all."
"I'm delighted with the prospect of spending the evening with you but-what made you phone me?"
He smiled at her directness. He really saw her tonight for the first time. Her figure made him wonder why he had not noticed her before. He also liked her face. It was less pretty than strikingly mature and her eyes were filled with a cynical wisdom and something more. They had a sultriness in their depths that matched the sensuous shape of her mouth.
"I realized Mrs. Mason was more than just any teacher."
"After all this time? Do you mind if I take that under advisement?"
"During dinner, no longer."
They finished their drink and drove through the winter night to the Jewel Box. In the closed car, the heater going, Jud became disturbingly aware of Peg Mason. She had dropped her coat from her shoulders. Her dress seemed to flow over her high breasts, accenting while concealing them. She wore an elusive scent that reached for his senses, seemed to communicate intimately with all of them.
They spoke casually of school, the town, touched on personalities they both knew and instantly veered off. By the time they reached the Jewel Box, they had achieved an easiness with one another. They had cocktails, dinner, danced, brooded over liqueurs and started home.
Drinks and the evening had mellowed both of them. Peg tuned the car radio down to a whisper and sat close beside him. Jud also felt the warmth of the drinks and now that perfume began really to reach him. He slanted covert looks at her, his eyes tracing the rich curves of her body. She turned once, caught his appraisal. She took a deep contented breath and turned instantly to follow the bright beams of the headlights.
Her house was dark except for a single dim light behind the drapes of the front room. Jud pulled into the drive. He turned to look at her. Peg leaned toward him and came readily into his arms. The avid touch of her lips surpassed the promise of her perfume. Without seeming to move she gave the impression of melting fully against him.
She broke the kiss in a moment, straightened. "Come in. You need one for the cold, cold road."
"Love to-but how about your roommate?"
"April? She's out for the night. I'll see her in school tomorrow."
He tried to hide a quick frown. Where would April be spending the night and-more to the point-with whom? Peg apparently did not see his frown or notice his hesitation. She pulled her coat back up around her shoulders, gathered it at the chin. Jud hastily moved to help her from the car.
In the house Peg excused herself and Jud dropped onto the davenport, lighting a cigarette. He looked around the pleasantly furnished room and pictured April in it. He frowned again, wondering how he could ask about her and not offend Peg. His wonderful idea seemed less briUiant than when he had first conceived it. He had given no thought then to Peg's own attractions.
Heard a sound near the hallway and turned. Peg had changed to a sleek wine-red hostess gown that shimmered in the shaded light from a distant lamp. She had been transformed from a sophisticated dinner companion to an intimately desirable woman. The flowing gown was at once concealing and revealing-and subtly inviting.
Peg accepted the silent approval of his eyes. She turned toward the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, "Fear not, the drinks are on the way. Have patience."
Jud studied the doorway after she had vanished beyond it and felt a stirring of excitement. He had heard, from time to time, vague whispers and rumors about Peg. Now he began to believe them.
She returned with a tray bearing steaming mugs.
"Tom and Jerries."
She placed the tray on the table and dropped onto the davenport beside him. They clicked mugs. Jud drank slowly and gratefully of the warm brew.
Peg said, "This is the best part of a wonderful evening, Jud. I'm glad April happened to have a night out."
"So am I." He hesitated, plunged. "Does she spend many nights away?"
Peg did not look up. Her finger traced the rim of her mug. "How are you asking that, Jud?"
"What do you mean?"
"As a member of the school board-or just as someone simply curious?"
His eyes narrowed. "Does it matter?"
Her head remained bent but he caught the faint flick of her tongue as she moistened her lips. "You're putting me on a spot."
"I see. Well-let's say I'm merely curious. The school board is suspended tonight."
"In that case-yes, she's away quite often. I sometimes worry about her. She can be a pretty strong-willed young lady when she wants to."
"I take it she sees someone quite steadily."
"Well, she's out pretty much-not necessarily with that same person."
"I didn't know she saw many men."
"I said nothing about men."
"She has women friends?"
"Of course." Peg turned impulsively to him. Her eyes were troubled, uncertain. "Jud, I've said too much. I didn't mean to but-"
He was surprised. "Too much? Why shouldn't she have women friends?"
"I'd like to speak frankly. May I?"
He hesitated. "Of course."
"April can be-strange at times. I think now and then she has a date with some boy-or a man. But her dates with women worry me. They're not-normal, I'm afraid. She's never really said but-"
"Go on," Jud said grimly.
"I think she likes women-in a special way. Not that anything has happened between us. I wouldn't let her go that-I wouldn't let it."
"I don't believe you."
Peg's smile showed forgiving patience. "You had a date with her when she first came here."
"That's right."
She asked softly, "What happened, Jud?"
He studied her in shocked amazement. Gradually he began to understand. He had blamed himself for rushing a girl who esteemed her virtue highly-now, her momentary response and subsequent furious rejection of him made a different, horrible kind of sense. Her continued avoidance of him since weighted the evidence against her. She had held her anger too long, even after he had tried to apologize. She had continued to repulse him. Peg had just told him why.
Peg said with a wry smile, "I think they call it 'swinging both ways.' I really didn't want to tell you but in a way-I'm relieved."
"I'm sorry you've been put in a position where you felt it necessary to tell me what you did."
"So am I, Jud. I think you like her."
"Well, I-does it matter?"
She leaned toward him. "Jud-did you ever see me before tonight?" She stood up abruptly, her face tight. She picked up the mugs. "We need another drink, I think."
Before he could answer, she swept out of the room. He sat quite still, trying to digest what Peg had told him. He felt cold and a little sick. He envisioned April-her feminine loveliness bestowed upon deviates. A sliver of doubt crept into his mind. His thoughts swung viciously between belief and disbelief.
Peg returned, handed him another Tom and Jerry and once more sat down beside him. The warm rum drink sent tentacles of fire through his stomach and body, seemed to lull his indecisions. Peg's robe rustled slightly as she moved and he thought that, whatever April might be, he had a desirable and waiting woman beside him.
They emptied their mugs and Peg gave him a sultry, underbrow look. She asked softly, "Recovered?"
"No-not completely. What you told me was quite a shock."
"You didn't like to hear it?"
"Of course not."
Peg sighed. "That's why you had to know."
He sensed a land of waiting in her. He moved toward her. A small flame flickered to life in her eyes. He put his arm about her and drew her to him. She came willingly, lips lifting instantly to his. She pressed against him, and her tongue parted his lips, making little exploratory darts that sent a surge of desire through him.
Forget April, he told himself.
Her hand dropped to his thigh. As he kissed her, her slender fingers dug into his flesh. He put his hand to the full swell of her breast and discovered that, as he had suspected, she wore nothing under the robe.
She clung to him, her mouth working against his as though she could not get enough of his kiss and hungered for more. He found the zipper of her gown and pulled. Peg's hands taloned into his hips.
The robe gaped, fell away.
Her voice gasped his name.
He bent to her breasts and she pressed his face to them. Next her hands tugged at his shirt, his belt and he felt his passion strengthen. She moaned softly as she touched him and dropped back on the davenport, lifting her arms to him.
He reached for the lamp and turned it off. He tore fiercely at his clothing and then came to her. Bare flesh touched bare flesh as he folded her in his arms. Her hands became dancing flames over his body, touching, caressing, driving him frantic with what she offered.
Her voice lifted in an ecstatic, crooning cry as he possessed her. Her body encased his in a demanding flame-and their union became a kind of sacrificial burning that cleansed his thoughts of April....
Her nails raked his back as her body arched in convulsive tremors and again her little gasps of joyous agony seemed to echo in the room.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The next morning April dressed while Peg was still asleep. She rapped on Peg's door, waited and finally went in. Peg lay unstirring until April shook her. "Wake up. You'd be late."
Peg sat up with a start. She stared sleepily at April, then came fully awake. She threw the bedclothes aside and jumped up.
"Honey, you've saved my life."
"I heard you come to bed. It was very late."
Peg hurried toward the shower, speaking over her shoulder. "I hope we didn't disturb you."
"No, my door was closed. I barely heard you untd you came up."
Peg hurried to shower and April went down to fix breakfast. She had it ready to serve by the time Peg came rushing into the kitchen. The two women ate rapidly with occasional glances at their watches. Now and then Peg gave April a covert look but she said nothing until she was ready to leave.
"A real rush, honey. See you later."
She was off. April cleared the table, frowning slightly. Peg had said nothing about her date and judging by the appearance of the living room, had taken trouble to clean up all signs of entertainment. Had she wanted to destroy clues to her caller's identity?
She forgot Peg in the day's heavy schedule. Final exams were imminent and classes were given over to reviewing the semester's work. April had virtually her last chance to concentrate on her weaker students.
Not even Bill in her chemistry class disturbed her concentration. He did not need her and she paid him no attention until, when the final bell rang, he came to her desk.
He handed her a paper, grinning. "The last of the extra experiments, April. It worked out fine."
She glanced at it. "Wonderful, Bill."
"How am I going to do in the regular class work?"
"Teachers generally give a vague answer to that sort of question. But in your case I'll say right now that you'll lead the class-unless you fall flat on the final exam."
"Little chance."
"Overconfidence could work against you. Don't skip boning for the test."
"Never intended to."
"How are your other subjects?"
"Right along with this one, I think."
The room had emptied. Bill glanced at the door, suddenly walked to it and closed it. When he turned, April saw that all too familiar light in his eyes. She braced inwardly as he came to the desk, leaned across it.
"April, I owe a lot to you." She started to protest but he stopped her with a slight gesture. "Don't argue, I know. At the beginning of the year, I went into this more for the kicks than anything else." His eyes smoldered. "I'll be honest. I thought staying after class would give me a chance with you. I guess I wanted you from the first minute I saw you."
Her face flamed.
Bill smiled softly and touched her cheek. "It worked out that way, sure enough. But you gave me a lot more than I thought anyone could. I feel I've learned something and life's got some sort of meaning. I want to learn more. I never thought high grades could mean as much as a football record. They do."
Her eyes widened but Bill did not notice. He had walked to the window, stood looking down on the snowy campus and street. "I guess only the gang gave me any trouble-but that's about gone. We'd done too much helling around one place and another for them to believe I could crack a textbook or want to stay after school."
He returned to the desk, glanced at the door and, before April could move, took her into his arms. His lips crushed hungrily on hers. Once again she felt that instant, warm response, but she managed to break the kiss. He released her instantly.
His tone grew concerned. "April, we haven't been together much lately. I don't know exactly why. I hope it's not me or that you're tiring of me. Anyway, final exam is Friday, isn't it?"
She recovered her breath. "Yes."
"I'm going to pass it and top the class. I promise you that. Then I want us really to celebrate over the weekend. I want to take you somewhere. I want us to be together."
"Bill, I-"
He rushed on. "The whole weekend. I could tell the folks I'm staying with someone out of town. You'd have no problem getting off. Maybe we could even go to St. Louis. We could leave Friday night and be back Sunday."
"Bill, you're mad-"
"Sure. And I'm tired of these quick motel trips, April. I want us to go to where we can safely have dinner and maybe dance-where we can have all the time in the world to make love instead of rushing off in a couple of hours."
April felt jolted. She started to shake her head but Bill again bent to her and his strong hand cupped her chin. "April, damn it-I'm saying I want you. And I know how you feel about me when we're together. So, let me have the weekend."
She gently disengaged his fingers. Her distress must show plainly, she thought. He looked down at her and his face tightened.
"Okay, let's have it. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Bill."
She was convincing enough to bring back his grin. "Then it's settled. I'll pick you up somewhere on Friday night and-"
"Wait, Bill, I haven't said I'd go."
His face darkened. His eyes probed at her and he asked in a thick voice, "What does that mean?"
She made a flustered gesture. "Nothing. No more than-I don't know about the weekend."
He grunted his disbelief, then slapped his hand down on the desk with a loud smack. "If I thought you've been making a fool of me all this time-getting your kicks with a kid-I'd-"
"No, Bill!"
His suspicious anger left. "Okay then. Friday night."
"I-I'll let you know."
He studied her again, nodded and turned on his heel. At the door he swung back.
"If you're planning to drop me, think over what you've done to me. I lost a girl because of you-and I don't care. You really turn me on, April-and it's been a hell of a ride."
He swung open the door and disappeared, leaving April stricken. She dropped into her chair, feeling as though a chemical compound had exploded in her face.
She drove home as fast as the icy streets would allow. Then she broke a long-standing private rule-she went directly into the kitchen and mixed herself a drink. She carried it to the breakfast nook, sat down and gulped it quickly. She stared across the room, surprised that the whiskey did not affect her; too keyed up, probably.
She thought of Bill and wondered what to do. She had given little thought to the extent of her invasion of Bill's private world. The boy had fallen in love with her-she had become more to him than just another conquest. Once again the question faced her-did she love him? She shook her head and felt a deep shame. Face it, she told herself scathingly, you simply used him. For a double purpose-to prove your own sense of superiority and ability as a teacher. Of chemistry-certainly not morals. And to fulfill yourself as a woman-my God, she thought, had her passion actually combined a maternal feeling with simple lust?
She heard Peg come into the drive and hastily left the kitchen. Peg met her in the hall, took a single look at her face and exclaimed, "Honey-what's wrong'?"
April whipped around and strode into the living room. Peg followed her. She placed her hands on April's shoulders and gently turned her about.
"Can't you tell me?"
April's lips quivered. Her eyes brimmed. With a sudden sob, she threw herself into Peg's arms and broken sentences tumbled from her lips. Peg held her, unmoving, listening to her self-castigations.
"Oh, Peg-what will I do?"
Peg stroked her hair. "Honey, you're upset and you're giving yourself all the blame. Go upstairs and get into something comfortable. I'll make us both stiff drinks and I'll be up. We'd talk it over."
"A drink won't help."
"Not in itself. But it'll help us talk and come to some decision about ad this."
April had changed to gown and robe when Peg came in with glasses. She gave one to April.
"I'll be back. Dinner can wait and, thank God, we have no homework or engagements. Drink up."
She left. April sank to the edge of the bed and took a long pull. She nearly choked but the whiskey warmed her, slowed her racing thoughts. Shortly Peg returned, also in a comfortable negligee. She sat down on the bed beside April.
"Now, let's go over it again. Bill wants you to spend the weekend after exams with him. He's in love with you. Is that it?"
April nodded. "That's it."
"You've been with Bill before, honey-and you've been unable to break off the affair. So there must be something about him."
April answered bluntly. "Sex."
"That's all?"
"What else?" April demanded. Her lips quivered again. 'I've never even considered a permanent relationship with him. Only sex never drove me this hard before."
"Maybe you never really knew what it was like before."
April thought that over a moment. "I don't know. I'm all mixed up. I fought off Judson Gray but I let Bill-"
Her voice faded off. Peg pursed her lips, picked up the empty glasses and, without a word, left. She came back with fresh drinks.
"I've been thinking it over, honey. Judson Gray was a grown man. Bill Collins was a boy."
April accepted the drink, frowned over it at Peg. "What do you mean?"
Peg moved to the window, back again. She dropped on the bed beside April after placing her drink on the dresser. She looked steadily into April's eyes.
"You were afraid of Jud."
"I-just didn't want to give in to him at first touch."
"That's the reason your logic came up with-but I don't think it's true." Peg moistened her lips. "Mind some straight talk?"
"Of course not."
"Men have taken you to bed-I mean before now."
Puzzled, April nodded. "One man. Just once." Peg smiled sympathetically. "You didn't like it?"
"No, not particularly."
Again Peg moistened her lips. "I don't blame you. I put up with men when I have to. You disliked what Jud had in mind. Bill Collins is a kid. You turned to him. You tried him as a substitute."
April flushed. "Peg, he's young but-he's a man."
"And now you're frightened again. You want to break it up, avoid this weekend."
"That's because it's all wrong. I got tangled up because I need someone. If there had been someone else, I'd never have become involved. Or I would have broken it off long before Bill got serious about me. But, now it's all muddled and I have no one to turn to."
"Don't be too sure, honey. You're just looking in the wrong direction."
"I don't understand."
"You need to be loved and you're afraid of men-you've found even a boy like Bill isn't right for you. So don't think you have the mere choice of either Bid Collins or Judson Gray. I've been waiting-"
She put her arms around April and kissed her, a long and lingering pressure of lips on lips. Her hands moved inside April's robe, stroking over the thin material of the gown. April grew rigid and then a sudden tremor passed through her. Peg felt it and her body strained avidly to April's.
Her tongue moved lightly between April's lips and now her hands moved down to April's legs and thighs, stroking, moving. Her voice came in a broken whisper.
"I love you, honey-I've wanted you." Peg's weight pressed April back and down. She bared April's shoulders and breasts. Her lips traced fire....
April gasped and her body convulsed. Then a horror of her own response swept over her. She worked her arms as a lever against Peg and the latter drew back.
April stared at her, caught her breath. "Peg! You're-like that!"
"Honey, so are you."
"No."
Peg smiled, pulled her gown up over her own exposed magnificent breasts. "I won't argue, though I could. I'll just wait. I'm not the beast some men are. I won't force myself on you." She picked up her drink from the dresser and took a long pull. "Honey, I'll wait forever."
She sighed, gave a twisted smile and walked out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
About an hour later Peg called in a clear, unruffled voice that dinner was ready. April did not answer. Peg called again and April answered shakily that she was not hungry.
Silence. Then she heard Peg coming upstairs. Peg came into the room. April involuntarily drew back and Peg sighed.
"Honey, don't be afraid of me. You know how I am-if you don't want me you don't have to take me. I'll be hurt but I'll understand. Now-get something to eat. You need it."
She left the room and descended the stairs again. April started to get up, then realized she could not face Peg unconcernedly across a dinner table. The idea of food, upset as she was, revolted her. She dropped back on the bed and closed her eyes.
What could she do now? Peg had clearly revealed herself, confirming those suspicions April had first known when she came here. Bill Collins wanted her and demanded the serious commitment of a weekend with her. She had completely cut Judson Gray out of her life.
Why? He had asked for nothing she had not given Bill and he had been civilized enough about wanting to make amends for his original urgency.
Her thoughts chased around and around. Suddenly she could no longer stay still or, for that matter, remain in the house. She needed motion, cold night air to clear her brain and think of some way out of this tangle.
She jumped up and dressed, pulling on capri pants and a sweater top. She hurried down the stairs and clawed her heavy coat from the closet. She put it on, tied a scarf about her head and stepped to the door.
"Honey?"
April checked, turned. Peg had come from the kitchen. She looked at April with longing, pain and hurt.
"Be careful if you drive-that's all."
April forced a smile and hurried out. She wheeled her car out to the street and drove aimlessly. The few neon lights attracted her for a few blocks and then repelled. She hurried past them, throwing a regretful glance at the lighted display in Jud's store. Then the lights were behind her and, soon, the town itself.
She had driven with the window down to let the biting air clear her head. Now she felt the cold and closed the window. Warmth from the heater began to flow around her. The headlights carved a bright tunnel out of the night. She thought of Peg's prophecy.
She shook her head vehemently. "No."
The sound of her own voice startled her but it also served to settle her thoughts. She took a good square look at herself. True, she had responded to Peg's caresses but her reaction had been blindly physical. Her mind had not been swamped-it had cried out its rejection of Peg's kind of love.
This meant that she could not continue to live with Peg. She did not want to cope with Peg's waiting, with eyes that would light strangely. She did not want to stay in reach of Peg's inadvertent touch, her questing caress. For her to stay would be unfair to Peg-to both of them.
Suddenly, far ahead, April again saw a neon-the Corners. She almost turned around-but then she realized Nick Archos served sandwiches as well as drinks. Her stomach felt empty and weak. Her chin rose, firmed and she drove on. In the middle of the week, she doubted if many high-school lads would be there-certainly not Bill's old wild crowd.
She saw no cars in the parking lot as she drove up but glimpsed one in a carport beside one of the motel units. She entered the tavern, welcoming the heated air that flowed out to meet her as she opened the door. The jukebox sat in colored, lighted silence. April looked quickly around the long room. Except for a man and a woman in a rear booth, Nick Archos behind the bar and herself, the place was empty.
Nick came instantly when she had selected a booth. He reluctantly admitted he served sandwiches, cheered up at her order of a drink. He went to the bar, looked back at her, puzzled. He served her a drink without comment, took her order for food and disappeared into his kitchen.
April settled back in the booth and tried to concentrate on her problems. How long could she continue at Peg's? The semester would end next week, to be followed by a flurry of new registrations and new classes. Perhaps after that she could discreetly look around for other living quarters.
What about Bill Collins? She sighed and just then Nick returned with her sandwich. As she ate Nick studied her from the bar. He scratched his head, shrugged beefy shoulders and apparently dismissed her.
Suddenly the door burst open and half a dozen teenagers roared in. The girls took booths toward the front and one of the boys fed quarters into the jukebox. It came to beating, wailing fife. None of the youngsters had seen April, nor did she recognize any of these kids.
Nick galvanized to beaming life. He took orders, loudly repeating: "Coke-make it two, hah? Sure-strong on the flavor." He hurried back of the bar, ostensibly placed soft drink bottles in plain sight then emptied them into glasses out of sight.
April's lips tightened. She was sure Nick was lacing the cokes and soft drinks with something much stronger. She watched him serve and nodded when Nick, from the bar, questioningly indicated her glass.
She was in the mood for a drink. Seeing these youngsters had brought her evening here with Jud Gray into her thoughts. What should she do about him? Did she want to do anything? She considered both questions as the music beat about her. She sipped slowly from her newly filled glass.
She remembered Bill had once said Jud wanted her to stay on as teacher. Her lips twisted with the wry thought that Jud had no idea of what kind of teacher she was.
The door banged open again and more adolescents streamed in-four or five carloads. They seemed to flow into the booths, onto the high stools at the bar. April saw a girl she remembered, one she had seen with Bill. The girl threw back her coat, perched on a stool, paying no attention to the tight skirt that slid wed above her knees. Her sweater, pulled tight by a wide belt at her waist, added depth to her eye-filling bosom. A boy April did not know hovered about her. She treated him with contemptuous tolerance.
Suddenly April realized with a start that she would be recognized by many of these newcomers. Her presence at the Corners, a drink before her, could lead to unhappy speculation. These kids might even take her presence as approval of their rendezvous. How could they be blamed for coming here if a teacher patronized the place?
She shrugged into her coat and adjusted her scarf. Nick caught the movement, came to the booth and presented her check. His bulk hid the rest of the room from her but she heard the door open and a lift of voice, greeting newcomers.
She had her coat collar up over her lower face as Nick stepped away. She stood up and almost gasped when she saw Bill Collins. He had not seen her but had stopped before the girl at the bar. The girl swung around to the bar, giving Bill her back. He spoke to her, ignoring the angry frown of the boy she was with.
April recovered. She held her coat collar high as she moved down the aisle, beyond Bill. He gave his full attention to the girl at the bar.
She heard the girl say, "... champion two-timer."
"Knock it off, Clair. We're celebrating end of term. The night's for fun."
"It was until-"
April, well beyond them and near the door, did not hear the rest of the sentence. A boy glanced up from the jukebox selector as she passed but carelessly looked away again. She began to believe that she would get away unrecognized. She reached the door, swung it open and hurried out.
The parking area had filled. Her car was lost among the dozen or so others. She spotted it and hurried to it. The jukebox music came muffled now and she felt a deep sense of relief.
"April."
She broke stride, froze, slowly turned. Bill Collins came toward her. She threw a frightened glance at the closed tavern door, wheeled and sought the sanctuary of her car. She dropped on the seat behind the wheel, leaving the door open. A second later Bill peered in.
"Hi."
She forced a smile. "I didn't expect you, Bill. Get in." He closed the door after him, turned to her. "I saw you just as you went out."
"Who else saw me?"
"No one, I guess-that is, no one recognized you." He smiled. "I just saw your back but I'd know any part of you anywhere. I still couldn't quite believe it. What are you doing at the Corners?"
"I could ask you the same thing. I thought you'd given it up-but I see that gang of yours here in force."
"It's just that term is ended and-wed, we wanted to kick things around a little. What's your excuse?"
She explained her aimless driving and hunger, making no mention of Peg. She straightened, reached for the car key.
"Better get back to your friends, Bid."
"They can wait." He reached for her. She drew back. "But your girl friend-"
"Clair? We busted up."
"Over me?"
"Yeah, but she doesn't know it. She blames another chick, as I told you. I let her. Gave me more time for you."
His arm worked up over the back of the seat and now dropped around her shoulders. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She made herself rigid and elbowed her way out of his embrace. He fed back, face tight with anger.
"What is this!"
"Nothing, Bill. I wasn't thinking when I dropped in here tonight. I'm a teacher and the Corners has a bad reputation. Let's not make matters worse. We could be seen at any moment."
"You're right," he said contritely. "I'm a fool."
She indicated the car door. He nodded, opened it, started out but turned back with a wide grin.
"The weekend will make up for it. No sweat then. We'll be alone."
He pushed on out as she said, "Bill."
"What?"
"Forget the weekend."
"Hey, now-you can't do that, April."
"I can and I will."
He moved into the seat again. She threw a look toward the tavern.
"I can't argue here, Bill. Just forget the weekend-and everything else between us but the study."
He looked stubborn. "You'd better tell me why."
She looked desperately around the dark lot. The tavern door opened and she froze, but the boy and girl who had emerged turned toward the motel.
April said tightly, "Okay, Bill, you deserve to know why. Get your car and follow me."
"Your house?"
"No." She pushed the picture of Peg from her mind. "Just down the road a bit."
He thought it over and slowly pulled himself from the car. "Get rolling. I'll catch up with you."
A half-hour later the two dark cars sat one behind the other on a dark and bleak dirt side road. Bill slouched angrily, a cigarette hanging from petulant lips, eyes dark and hurt.
April brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "It has to be that way, Bill."
"But why can't we go on as before? I'm in love with you and-"
"Bill, please. You're not in love with me."
He jerked upright and twisted angrily to her. "Then what in hell do I feel?"
She took a deep breath. "I've tried to explain."
"Made no sense."
"Then I'll put it in simple, plain words. Bill, I'm going to speak to you as if you were an adult. You are in some ways." She took a moment to collect her thoughts as he glowered at her. "You don't love me any more than I love you. You're a young male on the prowl-for any outlet for sex. Before I came along, I don't know how many girls you'd had at the Corners and other places."
"None like you."
"Let me finish. I admit you had an impact on me-and you still have it. I gave in to it-just that and nothing more, Bid. I don't love you but I've needed you. I've been lonely-I was in a strange town. I'm still young enough to have the same urges you have. I gave in to them." She forced herself on, aware of his sitting too close beside her. "That's just as wrong as anything can be. Not that I became interested in you because of-sex. First I saw you wasting your life. I'd been told there was no help for you and your bunch, that all of you had deliberately chosen the wild way. You had no ambition and would never have any. I couldn't believe it of you-and ad I wanted to do at first was make you work, live up to your talents."
"So I was just a kid to you," he said bitterly. "Like the others."
"Sorry, Bill, that's the way I thought. And for all your abilities you're still not of age." He growled and slowly subsided. "I felt that you had brains and talent. I thought I could, perhaps, help you discover yourself. I don't think that was wrong. But-the other-became mixed up in it. So it ad became wrong. I wanted your body as much as you wanted mine." She sighed. "Say there was love-what then? I'm older than you. You haven't completed your education and you can't earn a decent living-not for years. What would that do to our love?"
He glared ahead through the windshield into the darkness of the night. He shifted uncomfortably against the brutal truth of her words, sought mitigation.
"I guess I could do as wed by you as by any of the others I've dated and gone with."
"Of course you could. They're high-school students, like you. They have homes and parents, like you. They have time to grow up with you. I don't. You belong with them-not me." She placed her hand on his arm. "Bill, I've wanted to help you prepare for the future, make yourself ready for some girl you'll meet some day. If you go to college, get an education, you'll be able to support that girl as you would want to. And you'll really love her, Bill. What we've had isn't love."
He shook his head. "I don't like it, April-our busting up."
"I don't, either. It hasn't been all ugly. We've had some wonderful moments. But we've stolen them, Bill, each of us, from someone well find later. Let's not do it any more."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Just forget me, except in class. Except-if you do have even a little bit of real love for me as you claim, you'll finish school, go on to college."
"How can I look at you day after day in school and not want you?"
"I didn't tell you to forget me-or even stop wanting me. I won't be able to forget you, either. But I do say we can work together, respect and love one another as friends." Again she touched his arm. "There are lots of beautiful girls at school. You won't be lonely."
He sat quite still for so long that April began to fear she had not reached him, that he would reject her arguments.
Suddenly he stirred, straightened, spoke in a defeated voice. "I guess the gang will wonder where I am." He shrugged, twisted away to open the door. "Bill."
"What?"
She moved to him and her lips brushed his. "See you later."
She sat alone and still. His car lights flashed on behind her as his motor roared to life. He wheeled around her and glided away, picking up speed as he raced toward the highway. She watched the twin red glow of the taillights until they winked out as he turned off the road and headed back toward the Corners.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The house was dark when April returned. She did not bother to turn on lights but went sdendy up the stairs. No sound came from Peg's room. April reached her own, closed the door and hurried to undress.
She awakened the next morning to a familiar room but, when she recalled yesterday's happenings, a changed world. She sat up in bed and looked about, knowing that she would not be here much longer. She threw off a sudden feeling of depression and jumped out of bed.
Peg, dressed for school, greeted her downstairs in her usual manner, except that her voice was a little subdued. April worked up a smile, a casual reply and helped with the breakfast, Peg maintained her pretense that nothing had happened, talking a bit worriedly of students in her classes who might not make the grade. April listened, replied shortly as she ate. Once, when she looked up suddenly, she caught Peg's eyes on her, filled with regret and longing. They hastily veiled and Peg talked volubly about her next term's schedule.
April felt relieved when Peg left. She gave her colleague credit for trying to bring things back to normal and wistfully wished she could go along with the effort. She did like Peg, no matter what had happened. She wondered as she drove to school if it might not just be possible to stay on, heal over the scar and eventually push it into a forgotten past. It might be worth the try, she tentatively decided, then pushed the problem aside as she turned into the school parking lot.
She felt the air of sober, intent quiet as she stepped into the school corridor. Students flowed along the halls between classes as usual, but the careless laughter and talk were missing. Each seemed intent on meeting the test to come, elated or depressed over the test just taken.
It seemed to April that the class hours dragged. She passed out examination papers, saw the students settle to the quiz and then could do nothing but move slowly about the room, making sure there were no hidden notes or cheating. When the final bell rang, she collected the papers and went on to her next class.
She dreaded the chemistry class but at last, deliberately a little late, she opened the door and stepped in. The students looked up and their eyes instantly fastened on the sheaf of examination papers. Bill Collins slumped in his chair, watching her.
She briefly announced the test, a matter of routine, and started passing out the question papers. Bill stood up and came to her, held out his hand. She hesitated, then gave him the sheets. She walked to her desk, thoughtfully watching him move down the aisles. He returned to his seat and started to work.
She moved slowly around the perimeter of the room as pens moved industriously. She stood in the rear of the room and looked over the rows of heads bowed to the test. Her eyes moved on, rested on Bill's wide shoulders and muscular back.
She held his friendly willingness to help in some suspicion. Like the child he really was, she thought, Bill wanted her approval and good graces as a wedge to make her change her mind. She sighed, shook her head and moved on.
The class ended and each student brought up his test paper to her desk as he left. Bill came last, taking his time, so that he and April were alone. He gave her the paper, then stood before her desk, hands shoved in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
She said firmly, "No extra work tonight, Bill. That's over for the term."
"I know that."
"Then-" She glanced toward the door. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Bill, we did all our talking last night. There's nothing more to be said."
He grimaced, turned and dropped back into his chair. He eyed her and she braced for what she knew would come.
"April, I didn't go back to the Corners last night."
"I'm glad of that. Something accomplished."
"I was mad," he said flatly. "I didn't want to see anybody, unless it was you-and then just to say you sure twisted me up and then threw me away."
"Bill, I tried to make it clear-"
"I know," he cut in. "But I was too mad and hurt to get it at first. I went home. Know what I did? I sneaked a bottle from dad's cabinet and went up to my room."
"Oh, no, Bill!"
"I thought I'd get drunk. But somehow the stuff didn't go down and I didn't want it. I got to thinking, going over all you'd said and all we'd done. Made for a lot of mental exercise, believe me!"
She flushed, looked down at her hands and said nothing. He shifted about. "First I had to face the fact you were right-no matter how big I feel, I'm still just a school kid. Accepting that took some doing. Then I tried to see how it would be d we were really in love, got married and all that jazz. It just wouldn't come right, no matter how I tried to change the picture." His eyes came up and boldly held hers. His voice grew a little strained. "I might be ready for a girl-or a woman-but I'm not nearly ready to get a job, start a home or anything like that." He shrugged. "That's how I thought last night-almost to dawn. I talked to dad at breakfast this morning."
Her eyes flew wide in sudden alarm. "Your father!"
"Sure-about how I've decided to go on to college next fall, after I graduate here. Told him I had to make my own life in my own way and it looked like science to me, not his business." Bill stood up and smiled triumphantly. "It took some doing, but dad finally saw the point. And, April, I gave you all the credit for beginning to make something out of me."
Her eyes misted. "Thank you, Bill. I won't forget that. Something good came of us, didn't it?"
"That's for sure. And you taught me what to look for in a woman." He smiled. "By the way, I've made the scene again with my girl."
"Clair?"
"Not that one. Clair thinks a guy should give up everything for her, school and all. Anything, just so she gets married as soon as possible. No, I picked up with Joyce James. She's something like you, willing to wait if I go to college. Willing to help, too, if I need it. Like I said, you taught me what to look for-what really counts."
He turned and left the room. April sighed, the soft sound expressing content for Bill and uncertainty for herself.
The following Friday was the last day of the term, a day of short classes, of final grades. When she came to Bill's at the chemistry class, she looked at his other marks and added her A-plus. She looked at Bill, pleased. He smiled and gave a slight nod.
When he filed by to pick up his card, she said, "Scholarship marks, Bill. Too bad it didn't happen before. But keep this up and you'll win a prize your first year in college."
"I'll try."
The day ended a little before one in the afternoon. Her official term reports filed, April found herself at loose ends. She did not want to go home. Her feeling of triumph about Bill made her restless. Besides, she suddenly feared the empty hours alone in the house with Peg.
She drove to the business section of town, had lunch, and then window-shopped, killing time. She saw a purse in a display at Gray's and decided to buy it. When she stepped into the store, she almost bumped into Judson Gray hurrying out.
April spoke and smiled her apology. She sensed a faint withdrawal in his eyes.
"Well, a surprise," he said at last.
"Very much."
"This is a lucky meeting. I've been thinking about you, Miss Williams."
"Official thoughts, no doubt, as formal as you sound."
His eyes sharpened. "I thought you'd want things on that basis."
She made a face. "What have you been thinking?"
"First, that you've proved me all wrong about Bill Collins and his gang." She smiled acknowledgement and he hurried on. "I've seen the change. Those kids-especially Bid-needed no more than adult encouragement and a promise of a future for themselves here in town. I'm trying to build one for them."
"I'm glad to know that."
He smiled briefly. "I'm going to a board meeting now. If they'll put through a retraining program for workers, the town will be on its feet again. The factory owners will retool to make products we can sell through our stores here and throughout the state. But we need to train people to run the new machines. Final vote comes up today. I think we'll swing it this time."
"Jud-that's marvelous. I wish I'd known."
"I never had a chance to tell you," he answered dryly. "I had hoped to see you the other night when I came to the house."
"You came to the house?"
"Yes, didn't Peg tell you? She said you were spending the night with a-a girl friend somewhere, so I missed you."
"But I haven't a girl friend," April said blankly. "I was up in my room that night. Peg didn't say you were coming.
He stared at her, recovered and erased a strange, angry expression that had flitted across his face. "I see. Well, anyway, here you are. I'd also like to know if you intend to look for another school at the end of this year."
"I don't know. I've thought about it."
"Would you stay if we can raise salaries?"
She laughed. "It would be a strong temptation. But is there a chance?"
"Let's say a bare chance. Depends on today's town board meeting." He glanced at his watch. "I have to rush."
"Good luck-with everything."
His eyes bored at her. "Thanks. April, I've tried to ask you to forgive me for-that night."
She impulsively placed her hand on his arm. "I understand-now. I've been pretty awful since then. Can you forgive me for that?"
"You know I will." He caught himself, threw another harried glance at his watch. "Look, I can't be late. Let me phone you?"
"Of course."
"As soon as I can." He leaned toward her and she thought he would kiss her right here in the aisle. He caught himself. "Just as soon as I can."
He hurried out. April, caught up in a new excitement, followed him to the street more slowly, completely forgetting the purse in the window.
By the time she reached home her initial excitement about the encounter with Jud had lost its edge. Peg had apparently not yet returned from school and April went up to her room, changed into comfortable lounging pajamas. She went downstairs, suddenly at a loss at the prospect of facing an empty weekend. She doubted Jud would phone her right away.
She wandered out into the kitchen and started the electric percolator. She sat down in the breakfast nook while the pot burbled noisily.
She heard Peg enter and go directly upstairs. April heard faint sounds from above, then, as she poured coffee, steps descending the stairs. She had just returned to the table when the kitchen door opened and Peg walked in.
"Did I hear coffee brewing?"
"Just finished."
Peg walked to the stove, filled a cup and came to the nook. She sat down, sighed.
"I thought I'd never get away. Remind me to keep my records up to date so I don't have all the work to do on the last day."
April smiled briefly. Peg looked sharply at her. "I thought you'd be all dressed and packed by now."
April, in amazement, wondered if Peg had somehow read her thoughts about leaving. Peg said, "Wasn't this the big deal with Bill Collins?"
"Oh, that. I'm not going with him."
Peg carefully kept her eyes on the coffee she stirred. "Oh, I see. Date deferred-or off completely?"
"Permanently off. We had a long talk and-well, we're just student and teacher from now on."
"That's smart, honey. I told you all along."
April smiled again. She arose to refill her cup and her leg inadvertently brushed Peg's arm. Peg's eyes flamed but she turned away. April walked to the counter and percolator. Peg's look bothered her. There was so much she wanted to say, had to say, but she didn't know where or how to start. Still seeking an opening, she returned to her seat.
Peg said, "I'm glad you're free of that Collins affair. You wasted yourself on a wild one."
"Not really." April told her of Bill's plans. She finished, "So it came to something."
"You deserve credit for that, anyhow. But it will leave you a bit lonely." April thought of Jud. "I hope not."
"So do I, honey." Peg stood up and quickly moved around the corner of the table. She took April's hands. "There's no reason to be lonely."
"Peg, I-"
"Honey, listen. I was right when I told you the real reason you're afraid of Jud and turned to Bill. I could see it all along. Maybe it's because I love you and that's made me perceptive. My kind is real love, honey, no matter what people say."
She took April in her arms and her robe parted. Her lips smothered April's protests. She seemed to lose all control of herself. She made muffled little sounds as her tongue tried to part April's lips.
April worked her arm and elbow between herself and Peg. She used it as a lever, her muscles bunching in a spasmodic rejection that threw Peg back and down on the settee. For a moment the two women remained frozen, April staring down in renewed horror at the sprawled form beside her. Peg's robe gaped open. One breast free of the gown, the other half exposed. The robe and gown had slipped well up on her legs, exposing rounded thighs to the hips. April choked down a scream. She lunged desperately to her feet, raced toward the door.
"Honey," Peg called. "Please-"
April fled into the hallway. Just then the phone clamored. April snatched it up.
Judson's voice came clear and triumphant. "April? Guess what?"
"Jud-come and get me. Right away! Hurry."
She slammed down the instrument and realized Peg stood in the kitchen doorway. April shrank back but Peg did not move. Her clothing was rearranged and her face held a stricken, defeated expression.
"I-don't be afraid of me, April. I tried, very hard, and I lost."
"I'm leaving-tonight."
Peg shrugged. Her eyes misted. She turned back into the kitchen and April fled up the stairs, hand savagely rubbing her lips to erase the feel of Peg's kisses. She slammed the bedroom door, jerked at the pajama zipper and hurried to dress. She had a bag packed by the time Jud swung into the drive. She raced down the stairs and met him at the door.
"I have to get out of this house, Jud."
He stared at her and then, without a word, took the suitcase and led her to the car. As they backed into the street, cut and turned, April saw Peg standing at the big window, curtain pulled back. Even at the distance, her face and figure looked lost and tragic.
Jud asked where she wanted to go and April realized she didn't know. He looked at her strained face and quietly suggested a motel near the edge of town untd she could look around for more permanent quarters. April, unable to still her churning emotions enough to cope with the problem, nodded and Jud headed toward the expressway.
An hour later, he placed her bag on a table in a pleasantly furnished motel. He dropped the door key beside it and looked with sharp understanding at her. "I'd see you tomorrow."
"Don't go," she said impulsively.
He smiled. "I don't want to, but you're upset."
"I need company, Jud."
He sat down in a chair near the door. "Can you ted me about it?"
She hesitated and saw his understanding expression, the softness of his eyes as they studied her. She sensed some subtle communication between them. She told him in a rush of words about Peg and her advances.
Jud listened and when she had finished said, 'Teg told me you liked women, that you were with one the night I dated her, hoping to see you. I can understand that now. You're well out of it. I hope you'll let me find another place for you."
"You're sweet but-"
"Now, no thought of leaving Centerville. I won't have it." He smiled. "April, the board voted the retraining program through a bond issue. While they were at it, they voted a raise for our teachers-including you. What's more, Collins praised your work so much, they'll probably raise you again next year."
"That's wonderful, Jud. But I've made such a mess of things here-"
"Nonsense."
"But I have, Jud. It's not only Peg, it's-Bill Collins."
He was startled but somehow she felt he would understand. And that became very important. The bond between them had grown stronger and she wanted it to last. But, she knew, it could not last if she kept a secret, an ugly one that might come out some day. She painfully told the story of Bill Collins and herself, faltering, regaining courage, faltering again.
He listened, sitting very quietly. She finished and knew he scorned her. It showed in his set face, the way his hands tightly clasped one another. His eyes traveled slowly over her and she could only wait in a sort of forlorn hope.
He finally spoke, slowly, groping. "It was wrong, April, of course. But I don't know what I might have done with a girl student if I'd been a teacher in like circumstances. I can blame myself in a way. I was wrong about the kids and you set out to prove it. You've been lonely and Bill's young-but handsome and quite a man in his way."
He lowered his head and frowned at the floor, hands still tight. He looked up and smiled. "It's over and what does it matter? I need you."
"You need me?"
"Of course I do! There's the retraining program. You're a teacher. I need your advice. I had the wrong slant on the teenagers and I'll need you to keep me in line in the future. Besides, you've gained control of them, through Bid. If you leave now, that will be for nothing."
He stood up. "Yes, I need you, April. I've been lonely myself. So are you. Do you think two of a kind might get together?"
She could only stare. He came to her and gently lifted her to her feet. He kissed her, holding her lightly but close. She suddenly felt that, without warning, she had passed from storm to safety. Her arms came slowly up around him and she wanted nothing more than to keep his lips right where they were-on hers.
He broke the kiss, smiled down into her eyes. "There's a lounge and restaurant up front. Maybe dinner, and a cocktail, a chance to relax would help you make up your mind."
She still had her arms about his neck. She said softly, "No, it's not needed. I know now."
His brow rose as he studied her. He grinned. "Maybe later, then. Right now-"
He enfolded her again and, as they stood close, his arms tightened.
