Chapter 2
Ellen Bixby sat alone in her apartment, already feeling the absence of her fianc‚ although he had only left a few moments before. It had been so good having him there. Somehow, he seemed to bring the drab furnished apartment to life. Last night had been a disaster, of course, in bed, but she had satisfied herself that morning in the bathtub. Still, a curious nervous tingling crept into her belly as she sat by the window, gazing out at the gloriously sunny afternoon sky.
The voluptuous blonde glanced down once or twice at the swimming pool in the courtyard outside her window. Several young girls, dressed in tight, brief bikinis, lounged around the edge of the pool, sipping on drinks that looked like they might be Tom Collinses. And several tanned handsome young men splashed gaily in the water, letting their glances dart now and again to the sumptuous forms reclining beside the pool. She wondered which of the girls would end up in which of the men's apartments that evening.. . .
Lonely, missing the light-hearted cheer of her handsome young fianc‚, Ellen didn't feel much like going down to the pool that afternoon, even though Fletch had urged her to do so before he left.
"It would be nice if you could get to know some of your neighbors," he had said as they were drinking coffee together that morning. "You should try to make some friends here, you know. Can't sit around here sulking after I'm gone, darling, now can you?"
Ellen admired that quality in Fletch, his easy-going ability to make friends easily. She herself had never been that way, and had, to the contrary, always been very slow to make new and lasting friends. In any case, the last thing she felt like doing that afternoon was exchanging small talk with total strangers. She would make new friends . . . but not today. No, today, she thought, she would much rather be by herself. Tomorrow she would begin her duties as Guidance Counselor at Las Altas School and she would meet plenty of new people there.
Still, it was a beautiful day, she reminded herself, and it would be a shame to waste it closed up in her now lifeless apartment. Perhaps she could go to the beach! Yes, that would be a good idea! There she wouldn't have to talk to anyone, she could simply find a nice quiet spot and bask in the warm southern California sunshine, just like millions of other people were doing at this very moment.
Quickly slipping into her own skin-tight bikini bathing suit, then covering her near-nakedness with a terry cloth wrap, she gathered up her large beach towel, her transistor radio, took a couple of apples from the refrigerator, and closed the apartment door behind her, being careful to lock it before going down to her car. Yes, a nice quiet, relaxing day on the beach was just what she needed before beginning the rigors of her job tomorrow.
Ellen arrived at school especially early the next day, wanting to have a few moments to establish herself in her office before the more compelling duties of Guidance Counselor began. It was a warm, dry day, unusual in its early morning heat, as she stepped off the bus and saw, for only the second time in her life, the pale yellow stucco building in which she would be working for the next six months.
Today the building seemed somehow very different than it had been when she came here for her interview nearly a month before. Perhaps, she mused, because now the school-yard was filled almost to overflowing with youngsters. With a feeling bordering on familiar affection, remembering her own high school days not so long past, she watched the girls showing off their summer suntans and the pictures of their summer romances. And the boys she saw gathered together in small, tight groups, just as they had done when she was a student, dragging at their half-concealed cigarettes with studied nonchalance while they tried to unobtrusively study this year's crop of young females.
God, they seemed so young to her even though, at twenty-one, she was probably only three years older than some of them! Wasn't it curious, she thought, that she regarded them as youngsters, as budding young members of the community, all of them neatly-dressed in honor of the first day of school. They didn't look particularly wealthy; their clothes were not those super-sophisticated, custom-tailored outfits that she had seen in the wealthy high school where she had done her student-teaching last spring. But then, these students didn't look especially poor either. Just nice, comfortable, middle class boys and girls of honest, hard-working parents.
As she walked towards the school yard from the bus stop, Ellen felt as though it was almost too early for school to begin, the September sun shining just as hot and bright in the sky as it had during July and August here. Somehow, it didn't seem like summer was over yet-but that was the same feeling she had always had, she realized, when confronted with the first day back at school!
The sensuous, alluringly attractive blonde laughed. No doubt the students would feel the same way, too. especially later in the day when they left the school building laden with books and homework! But for now, they all appeared to be happy enough, even excited, caught up in the excitement of resuming old acquaintances and scouting for new social prospects for the coming school year. She wondered if things were the same when her own parents went to high school. . . nothing had apparently changed in the four years since she had graduated from Erasmus High School!
Just as she approached the door, Ellen noticed a cluster of three older boys and one young redheaded girl standing at the bottom of the steps which she had to mount in order to reach the door. She didn't know why, but a strange shiver of apprehension rippled through her body as she glanced casually towards them. Her glance was arrested almost immediately by the challenging, almost sullen look in the tallest boy's face. She had never seen him before in her life and was wondering why he looked at her in such an odd manner when she saw him open his mouth to speak, as if to his friend but obviously loud enough for Ellen to hear him.
"Hmmmmmmm . . . very foxy lady . . . you think maybe she's gonna be teaching Personal Hygiene?" His gruff young voice put special emphasis on those last two words, so much so that Ellen consciously stopped in her tracks, her hand on the doorknob, her other arm laden with books.
Confused for a moment, she wasn't sure whether to turn and confront the boy with his sexually suggestive remark, or to let it pass. Perhaps, she reasoned, he was just trying to show off in front of his friends. Or perhaps he was merely one of those rude, undisciplined, ill-mannered boys who were always getting into trouble and into the newspapers with their illegal exploits. Either way, she felt inclined to pass off his remark as if she hadn't heard it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, telling herself that she didn't want to lower herself to his low level.
And then, just as she closed the door behind her, she felt as though her action had been justified when she heard one of the other boys cry out, "For God's sake, Mike, when will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut? You almost got caught this time, boy! I don't care if you want to go and get yourself in trouble just like you did last year, but go do it by yourself when I'm not around to get in trouble with you? Damn! She might have thought I said it, you creep!"
As she walked down the corridor to her small, tidy little office, Ellen Bixby wondered whether Mike would be one of the students falling under her jurisdiction . . . hopefully, not! She had been told she would be handling boys as well as girls, since the administration felt that it was important not to segregate the students as to sex whenever possible (gym class, of course, being an exception) thinking it an unhealthy attitude to project in the schools. But she hoped that the boys who would be in her charge would be more respectful and less abrasive than this Mike character she had just been exposed to outside!
Standing outside her office as the first official bell rang, the helplessly sexy blonde watched the parade of students filing past her and into their classrooms. Next to her stood the tall, lanky figure of Eric Crosswell, her fellow Guidance Counselor, a veteran of nearly five years at Las Altas High School. Over coffee, he had told her of some of the more troublesome students and had especially stressed the ones she would be dealing with.
It was then that she had discovered that Mike Easterbrook was on her roster of students. With a sinking heart, she told Eric about the little episode that morning as she was entering the school building, sure that the boy Mike outside and the boy Mike Easterbrook whose folder lay open before her, were one and the same boy! But Eric could offer little comfort, although she noticed that his eyes were wandering roguishly over the creamy skin of her thighs all the while they were talking and suspected that she didn't really have his full attention when it came to Mike Easterbrook!
Resigned, she had gone back to her office. And now, watching the seemingly never-ending flood of students file quietly past her, she marveled that silence could overcome them so quickly once they entered the doors of the school building! Oh, they chattered away as teenagers will do, but not nearly as loudly or as enthusiastically as they had chattered outside, now that they found themselves surrounded by classrooms and teachers and other signs of their impending fate!
It was nearly lunch time when she heard a knock at her door. She had spent the morning reviewing the records of the students she would be handling and was completely absorbed in the history of one unfortunate boy when the sudden knock diverted her attention. Looking up, she saw a figure through the pebbled glass and called "Come in!"
It was Mike Easterbrook!
"Sit down," she said, trying not to appear as nervous as she felt. Her first confrontation with a student and it had to be this particular one!
"Teacher said for me to come down here. Gave me a note," he said sullenly, flopping his lithe, muscular young body down into the chair in front of Ellen's desk.
The sumptuous blonde took the note he slid across the desk to her, thinking as she took it about what she had read in Mike's folder. He was eighteen years old, a senior who had passed his subjects last year by the skin of his teeth. All of his test scores had been very high, indicating that it was not his intelligence level which kept him from doing well in school, but was rather some psychological factor. According to the official records, Mike's father had died some years ago in fairly vague circumstances and his mother held a full time job to support Mike and his three younger brothers. Doubtless, the boy didn't have much of a home life, Ellen guessed, and sorely showed the lack of parental supervision. Apparently the Guidance Counselor had tried to speak to Mike's mother last year, but she had refused to take the time off from work to come to school.
Ellen read through the note he had handed her. "Well, young man, what's this about throwing chalk and scribbling. . . 'lewd words'. . . on the blackboard?"
The tall, fair-haired youth looked sullenly up, across the desk, his fingers rolling a wad of paper between them. Coolly, he brazenly scanned her voluptuous, jutting breasts across the desk top and then muttered something half under his breath.
"I beg your pardon?" Ellen said as softly and politely as she could. "You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. But if you are going to talk, I would like to hear what you have to say."
"What does it matter?" he scowled.
"What does what matter?"
"What I say doesn't matter. It's what the teacher says that always counts. Nobody ever believes me," he sulked, his eyes still fastened on the heaving mounds of his Guidance Counselor's lusciously captivating breasts.
Ellen knew that he was testing her, trying her out to see whether she would believe him against the teacher. It was his way of trying to pull her from a neutral position into his corner. But once there, he would pounce on her, and think her easy to manipulate. No, she could not allow this boy to get the best of her. Besides, the clearly lecherous look in his eyes as he gazed across at the bountiful globes of her breasts was very disturbing to the sumptuous young blonde.
"And why should anyone believe you?" Ellen questioned harshly. "Your record is quite a long one, you know. I'm afraid that if you want anyone's trust, mine included, you're going to have to earn it."
He glared silently at her across the desk, his eyes still studying the enormous swells of her voluptuous breasts beneath her blouse.
Ellen dropped her eyes away from the boy's intent, piercing gaze. Yet she couldn't get the image of his handsome young face out of her mind. What a shame that such a nice-looking and apparently ingenious boy felt compelled to make nothing but trouble!
"Look," she said at last with some resignation in her tone. "I have no desire to police you. Nor does anyone else in this school. If you don't care about learning anything, that's fine. But that doesn't give you the right to misbehave and to infringe on other people's right to learn. Is that understood?"
"Yeah . . . I've heard that line before," he sneered, his fingers still nervously wadding a small round of paper, his eyes now downcast.
"No doubt you have. Well, if you have nothing else to say for yourself, young man, I suggest you go back to your classroom. Quietly."
The boy rose slowly from his chair to his full nearly six feet, and stared once again intently and piercingly at the voluptuous young blonde Guidance Counselor. Somehow, although she wanted to avoid his gaze, Ellen felt her eyes magnetized to his and then, her eyes traveled down his lithe young form. She started visibly when she saw the distinct bulge in the front of his trousers. Refusing to even consider the possibility that she was in any way attracted to this surly, flippant youth, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in her groin, she forced her mind to other thoughts and waved him away with her hand.
But as soon as he left, a depression began to sink over Ellen Bixby's mind. She hadn't reached the boy at all. He was locked in a vicious circle of having to constantly prove himself before his peers, of having to gain all of the attention, and yet at the same time having the intelligence to know that he was doing wrong and that he could do better. And she had failed to reach him. It was her job to try to get through to boys like Mike . . . but she had felt so flustered by the obviously lecherous way he was looking at her that she hadn't been able to function properly at all! She wondered vaguely if Eric had the same problem with young female students . . .
When she heard the dismissal bell ring that afternoon, Ellen heaved a sigh of relief. At last, the first wretched day was over! She hadn't been able to get over her brief confrontation with Mike Easterbrook, and she had spent a good part of the afternoon reading through psychology textbooks rather than seeing the many students she should have been seeing. They could wait until tomorrow, she had reasoned.
"Hi . . j school's out, you know. You can go home now!"
Ellen had been wholly absorbed by her psychology book and hadn't even heard the door open. She looked up to see Eric approaching her desk. "You look as if you've had a hard day. Can I offer you a ride home?"
The sensuous blonde smiled, grateful for Eric's understanding. "Are you sure your wife wouldn't mind?" she teased.
He smiled, a warm, friendly, cheerful smile. "Of course not. She says if I stopped looking at beautiful women she would get worried!"
Ellen sighed. "Yes . . . you see, that's just the trouble!"
"That I like to look at beautiful women?"
"No!" Ellen laughed, her spirits considerably brightened by this handsome young man and his flattery. "That I am . . . well. . . considered beautiful. One of the boys today . . . "
"Don't tell me-Mike Easterbrook!"
"Why, yes!" Ellen said, surprised, wondering how Eric had been able to read her mind. "How did you know?"
"Look, don't let the way he looks at you upset you. Believe me, he looks at every single woman in this school in exactly the same way," Eric consoled her, placing his arm comfortingly around her shoulder. "And he only does it to upset you. So you see, you're playing right into his hands."
"Yes," Ellen sighed, "I see what you mean. Well, hopefully, the next time I see him, I'll be able to handle the situation a little better." She smiled gratefully at the handsome, friendly young man who smiled warmly back at her. "And thanks for your help, Eric."
"No problem," he responded, taking her coat down from the rack and holding it up for her. "Now, let's get out of here, shall we?"