Private (Private 1)

K A T E B R I A N

crumbling stairs, through an open stone doorway. On the other side was an outdoor room that was almost like a cave, the walls wet with dew. Somewhere nearby drops dripped a constant beat. Thomas sat down on a bench built into one of the side walls, pulling me onto his lap. Before I could catch my breath, he slipped his hand under my THE FEAR

hair and pulled me into him, smothering me with his kiss.

“Thomas,” I gasped, pulling away. “I have to—“

He shook his head quickly and pulled me in again. My heart

pounded. My fingers touched his face, his neck, grasped his shoulders. His hands ran down my back, over my stomach, grazed my

“Miss Brennan, when we first met and I told you I would be keep-breasts, and then returned to my face. I was overcome with heat and ing a close eye on you, did it sound like I was making a joke?”

longing. I pressed myself closer and closer to him, knowing all the I tried to stop smiling. I really did. But after that encounter with while that we could be caught at any moment, that I was making

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Thomas, it was impossible.

myself later and later for my meeting, that this was very, very wrong.

“No.”

“This is all I think about,” Thomas said breathlessly, breaking

“Well then, I assume you were unaware that I receive weekly

away for the slightest second.

reports from every one of your teachers,” she said, the jowls shak-

“Me too,” I said. I struggled to catch my breath. “But I have to go.”

ing. They grazed the high collar of her silk purple shirt, leaving a

“When I saw you come around the corner I thought I was seeing

nasty stain of makeup residue behind.

things,” he said, searching my eyes. “But you were really there.”

“Yes.” I blinked and shifted in my seat, pressing my lips together.

I giggled. “Yeah. I really was,” I said. “But I do have to go.”

Serious. This was serious. “I mean, I didn’t know that. No.”

Thomas kissed me again and I could feel his desperation to keep Ms. Naylor narrowed her eyes at me. She clucked her tongue as

me there. Still, somehow, I slid away, groping for my bag on the she lifted a sheet of paper from her desk toward the dim light.

damp stone floor.

“Unsatisfactory,” she read. She picked up another sheet, holding it

“We have to do this again,” Thomas said, gazing up at me, his

the same way. “Minimal effort shown.” Another. “Little to no