Chapter 8
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.