Page 19 of Identical


  and left a rather lengthy message….

  News to me. “Sorry, Daddy.

  I didn’t check the machine.”

  Really. And here I thought you’d

  made it your mission….

  What the hell does that mean?

  Maybe he knows more than

  he’s saying too. I apologize again.

  “Sorry. I usually do, but I was

  all excited about writing my term

  paper.” No need to mention why.

  His eyes say, yeah right, but his

  lips say, Ahem. Okay, well, your

  mother is coming home to watch

  the election returns and expects

  to host a large party here. It’s

  a big deal, as you can imagine,

  and you’ll have to help me pull it

  together. We’ve only got a few days.

  And with Manuela unavailable,

  I’m not sure what to do.

  A devious thought crosses my

  mind. Do I dare? Oh, why not?

  “Maybe Hannah from down

  the street would help out.”

  H-Hannah? he sputters, eyes filling

  with uncertainty. Why Hannah?

  How much do I know, Daddy? Not

  as much as I’ve guessed, but enough.

  But I don’t say that. Instead

  I shrug. “She’s always seemed

  pretty friendly, and she looks

  like she knows how to party.”

  He Has No Idea

  What I mean, or what to say.

  His jaw drops, spittle pooling

  in the corners of his mouth.

  His eyes blink like some annoying

  spore has found its ocular target.

  Tears puddle, reflect something

  like rising denial. No worries,

  Pop, I won’t tell, as long as

  you be nice to me. (Pretty please be nice.)

  One thing for sure, his reaction,

  silent as it might be, makes me

  know my instincts were right.

  Somehow, some way, that hurts

  more than it should. After all,

  he’s not married to me. Still, why

  not twist the knife a little deeper?

  Kind of fun to make him squirm.

  “Do you want me to talk to Hannah?

  I don’t mind. Unless you’d rather

  do it yourself?” I ask, all innocent

  eyed. “I’ll help too, of course.”

  Finally Daddy snaps out of

  his trance. That’s okay. I’ll talk

  to her. Good idea. She’ll be great.

  He stands, hands on his hips, looking

  a lot like Wyatt Earp, facing down

  bad guys at the OK Corral.

  Guess what that makes me.

  Better holster my six-shooter.

  I’ll break out the shotgun later.

  School Totally Drags

  Tricks and treats are put

  on hold in favor of tests

  and ineffectual lectures.

  Teachers can be so heartless.

  At lunch, I’m still deciding

  who to get witchy with. I’m

  wandering, foodless, when

  I hear someone call my name.

  Ms. Gardella? One minute!

  Would you please honor

  me with your presence?

  Lawler, sounding all teacher.

  So why does a little chill

  shimmy all up and down

  my spine? I’ll honor him

  with more than my presence.

  I turn toward his classroom,

  extremely happy that I shaved

  my legs and wore a very,

  very short skirt today.

  Lawler Definitely Notices

  Not only that, but he doesn’t

  hide the fact that he’s noticing.

  His eyes fall to the source of my

  swishing stockings, stay there until

  he closes the door behind me.

  How’s the paper coming?

  Hope I was able to help.

  I turn and he’s very close

  behind me. In fact, we’re just

  about nose to nose. I smile my

  most vampish smile. “You’ve

  helped me more than you know.”

  His turn to smile, revealing

  perfect white teeth. How so?

  God, he smells good. I so

  want to get lost in him. “You

  treat me with respect. Not

  many teachers do that for their

  students. Power trips, I guess.”

  You deserve my respect.

  Not many students do.

  I must be totally schizoid. As

  much as I like having his respect,

  I wonder what it would take to

  earn his disrespect. My eyes tell

  him that. My lips say, “Thank you.”

  Welcome. So I was wondering

  if you have plans for tonight.

  Plans? Holy shit! Stay cool,

  Raeanne. Leave the drool

  where it belongs—inside your

  mouth. But wait. Do I have

  plans? Answer: “Not really.”

  I realize it’s Halloween

  and you might be busy….

  “No!” Easy now. Don’t want

  to look like you’re undateable

  or something. “I mean I really

  haven’t got anything definite

  planned.” Breathe in. Breathe out.

  I was hoping you might be able

  to come over to my place and…

  Yes, Yes, and…?

  Okay, I know he doesn’t dare

  say what I want him to, but

  what he does say surprises me.

  …answer my door for an hour

  or so. I have an appointment

  and don’t want to leave the house

  empty with all the little tricksters

  running around. I know it’s late

  notice, an imposition, but you were

  the first person who came to mind.

  A deep breath brings several

  positives to mind. One: I’ll

  have my foot, quite literally,

  in his door. Two: He probably

  doesn’t have a girlfriend, unless

  she happens to be his appointment.

  Three: what might happen after

  he gets back from his appointment.

  Four: I was on his mind.

  What can I do but agree?

  He Gives Me Directions

  To his house, which isn’t far

  from mine. Need a ride?

  A ride would be nice,

  considering it is chilly

  outside, but I don’t think

  I should chance it. Oh yeah,

  just think about explaining

  that one to dear old Dad.

  I shake my head. “Maybe

  a ride home. What time

  do you want me?” I am

  queen of double entendre.

  Lawler shows his dimples.

  My haircut is at six.

  Can you get there around

  quarter to? I should only

  be gone a little over an hour,

  so you won’t be tied up all night.

  Okay, vamp, ramp it up.

  “How about half the night?”

  The Rest of the Day

  Crawls along even slower

  than the first half did. Lawler

  got my “tied up” joke and even

  gifted me with an easygoing

  laugh.

  I’m pretty sure he’s got more

  than an abbreviated house-sitting

  job in mind. Wonder if he wants

  what I do—to wrap ourselves up

  in each other, make love until we

  cry

  with pleasure. Pa
in. Both. More.

  But to go there, I need to catch

  a buzz, which presents a problem.

  It’s

  one thing to ask Mick for bud,

  then “reward” him after. But to

  get my head, then ask him to drop

  me at Lawler’s? He would not

  appreciate that at

  all.

  Eek! Have I backed myself

  into a corner? No Mick, no bud.

  No Ty, no better buzz, and he’s

  much more difficult to manipulate.

  Dopeless sex? That could not feel

  good.

  Could it?

  Kaeleigh

  The Bus Seems Slower

  Than usual today, and that’s

  okay by me. Sitting here,

  listening to ever