He chuckles and shrugs humbly. “One or two.”
“So tell us, Ms. Shermer, what do you have planned for your independent study?”
I sit up straight in my chair and take out my folder and give copies of my plan to them both.
“In a nutshell, I’m going to follow the city’s recycling program and write up reports on how the system actually works, where the stuff actually ends up, and develop proposals to improve the system, wherever possible. Specifically, I’m going to follow one simple piece of recyclable plastic and see where it goes and how long it sits around, waiting to be recycled.”
Ms. Frazier sits back in her chair. “Well. As I anticipated, I won’t have to worry that you might be using independent study to slack off.”
“No, ma’am. Do you want me to go through the outline of steps…?”
She waves me off. “I trust you, dear. Full steam ahead, and I’m excited to see what you come up with. I have no doubt your end-of-year presentation will dazzle all of us.”
Coach Ford echoes, “No doubt.”
Coach’s baritone voice rattles every cage inside me that keeps my inner bad girl locked up tight. I’m not sure how much longer she’s going to tolerate being caged.
5
Weston
I never thought I’d spend the bulk of my afternoon at the perfume counter at the mall, trying to locate that scent. It’s citrusy and fresh, with just a hint of warm, comforting spice. When I finally find it, I know it immediately.
It’s her.
The biggest bottle they have goes back with me to my office.
I place the tiniest dab of that perfume on the edge of my whistle, which has become a permanent fixture around my neck.
6
Addie
When Hunter and I meet up in the locker room before swim practice, we tell each other all about our independent study projects. She’s going to be co-directing the all-school winter musical along with sewing all the costumes. And then for second semester, she’s going to be going on actual auditions in New York and Los Angeles if she can manage it.
I tell her who my staff advisor is. She laughs. “Oh shit. Guess you aren’t phoning this thing in. That man is going to ride you hard all year long!”
The double entendre gives me a full color daydream of exactly what I should not be daydreaming about.
I feel like everyone can see my thought bubbles and they all know I’m imagining Coach Ford riding me. Or would I ride him? Either way, never have I felt so pure and untouched, so hopelessly inexperienced compared to people like Ridley Rushmore, who has the air of someone who has had tons of sex. And why wouldn’t she, since she’s been dating the captain of the boys’ swim team for two years now? She walks around the locker room completely naked and full of confidence, and even looks like a bombshell wearing her swim cap and goggles.
Swim gear only makes me look like a giant bug.
I need to watch some porn and soon so I can at least know what I’m doing when the time comes.
As soon as I step into the pool area, the heat between my thighs and the pebbling of my nipples are instantaneous. Coach Ford is already there, waiting for us, waist deep in the shallow end. Hands on his hips, he announces to the group, “A lot of you are almost there, but almost there doesn’t get us a state title. I’m going to demonstrate each form that you need to work on, and then you’re all going to get in the water to show me what you learned.”
And then, he swims.
His arms slice through the water, creating hardly any wake. It’s almost silent. Every time his arm comes over the top of his head, I get the briefest glimpse of the muscles under his arms, on his upper ribs. For crying out loud, this man has muscles where no other human has muscle definition.
It’s so beautiful to watch I could cry.
He barely comes up to breathe. His flip turns are effortless, and so fast. So controlled. So powerful.
After each form, he pauses to explain what he’s about to do and what he sees us do wrong repeatedly. He goes through the breaststroke, backstroke, and butterfly, prefacing each with a laundry list of mistakes.
My breathing is shallow and all my blood seems to be pooling in my sex organs. The walls of my sex quiver with lust, demanding to be filled. I’ve never felt that emptiness before—of wanting to sheath the full length of a man’s organ inside my body—and I’m disturbed by this feeling.