Lane gazed at the remains of her ham sandwich. She thought she might choke if she tried to eat any more.
A rotten trick to pull on the guy. Maybe I shouldtell them I changed my mind.
Damn it, though, she didnt want to be alone with him. Asking Henry and Betty to come along had been a way to squirm out of the situation: either Jim would call the whole thing off, or the presence of her friends would keep him in line. At least as long as they were in the car. Once Jim dropped them off, shed be on her own.
I can handle him, she told herself.
But maybe I wont have to.
Would you rather skip the whole thing? she asked.
Jim faced her. His scowl was gone. There was a look of hurt in his eyes. Is that what you want?
He does care about me, she reminded herself. Maybe he even loves me.
Lane knew she didnt love him. Maybe once. Not anymore. Shed seen too many samples of his juvenile behavior: his pettiness, his meanness toward her friends, his constant preoccupation with sex as if all he really cared about was her body, as if his whole aim in life was to score with her. Why couldnt he be kind and sensitive? If he were only more like Mr. Kramer, there wouldnt be a problem.
But theyd been very close. She supposed she still cared about him. She knew she didnt want to hurt him.
She put a hand on his arm. No. Lets go out tonight. I want to.
I guess I can stand those two for a few hours. If I have to.
Who knows? You may even end up having a good time.
Sure, he muttered.
Lets see a smile.
He bared his upper teeth.
A smile, not a snarl. You look like an old hound with a burr up its ass.
That brought a real smile, and a small laugh.
Much better, she said.
She realized that her appetite had returned. She bit into her sandwich. As she chewed she said, Just wait and see. Well have a great time.
Jim reached behind her. He rubbed the middle of her back, sliding her blouse against her bare skin. Nice, he said softly. Nothing in the way. Youll leave it off for me, wont you? Tonight? Ill be real nice to your pals.
Well see, she muttered.
Oh, come on. You been coming to school without it, you wont need it for the movies.
In school you have to keep your hands to yourself.
Dont haveto. Im just too much of a gentleman to take advantage.
Sure.
He grinned. Besides, Im no idiot. If I got cute, youd start up wearing the damn things again.
You better believe it.
He continued to caress her back. I love it, he said, just knowing you got nothing on in there.
Cool it, huh?
When Lane entered the classroom just before the sixth-period bell, she found Riley Benson in Jessicas seat. He was slumped low, legs stretched out, ankles crossed. He didnt look at her.
Whys he at Jessicas desk? she wondered.
It came as no surprise that Riley was back in school. Shed learned from news reports that the suspect had been released by the authorities, and shed already seen him a few times today in the hallways and cafeteria.
But it seemed pretty weird to plonk himself down at Jessicas desk instead of his own.
Lane could only think of one reason for that: he missed her. Sitting where she used to sit, maybe he felt closer to her.
She looked at him.
Poor bastard, she thought.
His head turned and he glared at her. Whatre youstaring at?
Im sorry about Jessica, she said.
Yeah? Well, fuck you.
I was just trying to be nice, she muttered.
Yeah? Who needs it?
In a soft voice she said, You dont have to be such a tough guy all the time.
You dont have to be such a fuckin goody-two-shoes.
Did the police treat you okay?
Cram it, huh?
Why wont you let anyone be nice to you?
Youwanta be nice to me? He suddenly drew in his legs and lunged sideways, leaning out over the aisle and grabbing Lanes arm. He tugged her from her seat. As her rump hit the floor he dragged her closer.
Whatre you doing? she cried out. Stop it!
She heard other kids in the classroom suddenly shouting: Leave her alone! and Benson, you turd! and Somebody dosomething!
Riley released her arm. Clutching her hair and chin, he twisted her face upward. Wanta be nice to me, huh?
Somebody stop him! a girl yelled.
Riley spit. The saliva spattered Lanes tight lips. He let go of her chin and rubbed the spit around her mouth and cheeks.
Whats going on here? A shout. Mr. Kramers voice.
Riley thrust Lane away. She caught herself with an elbow, and winced as pain shot up her arm. With the back of her other hand she wiped the spittle from her face. The stuff had a sweetish, sickening odor like the smell of a sneeze.
Benson, you son of a bitch!
Fuck you, man!
Sitting up and holding her elbow, Lane watched Mr. Kramer stride toward the front of the desk where Riley sat.
Hey, man, you better not touch me!
The teacher leaned over the desk, clutched the long hair on top of Rileys head, and jerked him into the other aisle. His right fist smashed Rileys face. The boys head snapped sideways. Lane saw spit fly from his mouth. Mr. Kramer released the hair, and Riley slumped to his knees.
Apologize to Miss Dunbar.
Eat shit, fag.
Cream him! a guy advised from the rear of the room.
Riley looked up at Mr. Kramer. The way the boys face was red and contorted, Lane thought he might start to cry. In a shaky voice he said, Youre gonna get it. You hit me, you fag bastard. Im gonna have your job.
Mr. Kramer picked him up by his shirtfront, glared in his face and shook him. Apologize to my student.
Its all right, Lane said, getting to her feet. Please. Cant we just forget it?
Say youre sorry, Benson.
Okay okay, Im sorry.
Tell her.
Riley turned his face toward Lane. He said, Sorry. He looked as if he wanted to kill her.
Very good, Mr. Kramer muttered. Now get the hell out of here. He shoved the kid backward and let go. Riley stumbled, tripped over his own motorcycle boots and fell sprawling.
A few kids laughed, but most watched in silence.
Riley scurried to his feet and ran for the rear door. Youre gonna be sorry! he shouted back, his voice high-pitched and trembling. Both of you! Just wait! Then he darted into the hallway.
When he was gone, Heidi began to clap. The rest of the class joined in, and in seconds the room was thundering with applause.
Stop it, Mr. Kramer said. Everybody settle down. He stepped over to Lane. Are you all right? he asked.
She nodded. Id like to wash my face.
Maybe you should see the nurse.
No, thats okay. Im not hurt. Really. I just want to wash off the spit. If I could have a rest room pass...
Ill escort you there myself, then drop by the principals office to have some words about our friend. Turning to the class, he said, Ill be out of the room for a few minutes. Take out your books and make good use of the time. When I come back, I want to find everyone quiet and busy. Understood?
He followed Lane into the hallway. She looked both ways. No sign of Riley or anyone else.
Side by side they walked toward the rest room. Her legs felt weak and shaky.
What started off Benson, anyway? Mr. Kramer asked.
I dont know. I told him I was sorry about Jessica, thats all. I was trying to be nice to him, and all of a sudden he grabbed me.
Some people are best just left alone.
Guess so. Thanks for coming to the rescue.
Im just sorry I wasnt quicker about it. Seems like Im never quite on time when it comes to helping you out of jams.
Oh yeah, she thought. My fall, too.
Sorry I keep causing you all this trouble, she said.
No trouble. But Im starting to wonder if you might be accident prone, or something.
Didnt used to be.
Just in my room, huh? He smiled.
Looks that way.
They stopped at the double doors of the girls rest room. Ill wait here while you go in and take a look around.
You dont think Riley?..
Never hurts to be careful, Lane.
She pushed open one of the doors and entered. The air reeked of stale smoke. Though the place appeared deserted, she checked each of the stalls. About half the toilets were unflushed, all the seats looked wet, and so did the tile floor around each fixture. But Riley wasnt lurking about. Feeling a little disgusted, she returned to the door and opened it.
Nobody here, Mr. Kramer.
Fine. Ill see you back in the room.
As he walked away, Lane let the door swing shut. She stepped up to a sink, turned on the hot water, and pumped greenish-yellow liquid soap into her palm. Though her face was dry, she could still smell Rileys saliva. She started washing.
Sure isnt my day, she thought.
The crud. Why would he want to do something like that?
I shouldve known better than to mess with him. Now hell really want to get me.
Even worse, Mr. Kramer might get into trouble for slugging him.
Lane wished she had stayed home. If shed been absent, none of this wouldve happened with Riley. She even wouldve had a good excuse for breaking off tonights date. Shouldve just stayed in bed this morning and pretended to be sick.
Itll be all right, she told herself. It isnt the end of the world. And Mr. Kramer was terrific.
She dried with paper towels. When she finished, she saw in the mirror that her skin was a little red around her mouth and chin. Her eyes had a weird, dazed look. She shook her head as if to wake herself up. Then she tucked in her blouse and left the rest room.
Arriving at the front door of the classroom, she glanced in. Mr. Kramer hadnt returned yet. She heard quiet murmurs and laughter. Sounded like everyone was behaving sort of. But she didnt want to step inside until the teacher was there. Everyone would stare at her, ask questions, offer comments. So she stepped away from the door and leaned back against a locker.
Finally Mr. Kramer came strolling up the corridor. She stood up straight when he stopped in front of her.
Are you feeling all right? he asked.
Yeah. How did it go in the office?
I explained the situation. It looks as if our friend Benson will find himself transferred to Pratt.
Pratt was the alternate school, mostly designed as a holding pen for students with chronic behavior problems.
God, I feel like its all my fault.
Benson already had one foot in Pratts door. This just nudged him the rest of the way. My only regret is that you had to be one of his victims. It makes me sick when something like that happens to a sweet kid like you.
His words set a pleasant warmth flowing through her.
Come on, he said. Ive got a class to teach.
She followed him into the room.