Something She Can Feel

“Smile,” they said one after the other for so long my cheeks began to hurt. I was smiling and holding one side of that check from the center of the stage to the back of the auditorium, where some cameramen were still waiting to get a good shot.

“That was wonderful,” Evan said when we were finally out of the limelight and the circle had dwindled down to just me, Dame, Evan, and Emily, Dame’s assistant, who was fussing over Dame’s clothes and taking the hidden microphone pack from underneath his shirt.

“Yes, I really think the children got something from your words,” I agreed as someone else removed my microphone pack.

“Thanks,” Dame said. “I wish I could come speak to them more.”

“If only we had more people who thought like you, young man,” Evan said. “Hey, I was wondering, what are you doing tonight? Mrs. DeLong and I would like to take you out for dinner. The Cypress Inn? I know it’s no Hollywood meal, but we’d be honored to have you join us if you don’t already have plans.”

I looked at Evan, surprised at his suggestion. He’d said explicitly that he wanted to keep his distance from Dame and now “we’d love to have” him? I didn’t recall ever discussing going out with Dame. Perhaps Evan had the fever, too. I looked down to see which way his feet were pointing.

“Man,” Dame started and it sounded like he was about to say he was busy, “I can do that. I have to do some signings, but I need to eat, too.”

“Wonderful,” Evan said, smiling. “I’ll have my secretary make reservations for 7 p.m.”

Trying to get out of the school was like maneuvering through a herd of traveling cattle. The kids were in a frenzy, running around to try to get to Dame, who’d already slipped out the back door for safety reasons. And the teachers were only blocking the traffic, gathered in bunches where I overheard most of them talking about how handsome Dame had become.

“I need to get me a twenty-three-year-old,” Billie said when I finally got outside and found her standing in the parking lot talking to Kayla.

“Yeah, he was something to look at,” Kayla agreed. “Did you see his arms? You could swing from them.”

“You two should be ashamed of yourselves ... looking at that young boy,” I censured them playfully.

“Please, Mrs. DeeeeeLong, your mouth was salivating, too,” Billie said. “And your husband was there, so that makes you even worse.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t!” I replied, slapping her hand.

“Did you see his butt?” Kayla said all dreamy. “The way it was holding those jeans ...”

“Even with the sag, you could tell the brother has a nice, rock-hard ass,” Billie said. “I wanted to tap that thang.” She pretended she was slapping his butt.

“Oh, let me go. I’m not about to stand here and listen to this foolishness,” I protested, pulling out my keys. I thought the boy was fine, too, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to share that with people. And for some reason, I felt I’d been too close to him to admit I was thinking that way. But he did have a nice butt.

“Stop being a bump on a log, J,” Billie said. “Men look at women all the time. What’s wrong with us recognizing sunshine sometimes? No one said we were actually trying to sleep with the boy—”

“No, you didn’t say that,” Kayla said, and I had to laugh.

“Now, I want to hear Journey admit it,” Billie dug. “Admit that he’s fine!”

“What? I don’t see how that makes any difference. Why do I have to do it?”

“Because it’s a dare.” Billie put her hands on her hips like we were kids in the school yard. “I dare you to admit that you found your former student to be an impeccable specimen of a chocolate man.” She was always coming up with these ridiculous dares.

“That’s stupid.”

“Then do it.” Billie and Kayla folded their arms expectantly.

“This is ridiculous, and I’m not doing it.”

“Hmm ...” Billie looked at Kayla. “Told you she was stuck-up.”

“No, I’m not.” She wasn’t slick. This was how she’d get me to do things in high school. She’d call me a prude, stuck-up, a lame, Miss Tight-Ass, until I felt so bad I did the dare.

“A straight-up prude.” Billie dramatically pursed her lips again and looked at me accusingly. I could almost hear the Old West standoff music playing in the background. “Stuck-up. Miss Tight-Ass herself—”

“I thought he was hot. Happy?” I said quickly, pulling my bag back up on my shoulder and turning to walk to my car.

“Love you, Mrs. DeeeeLong,” Billie hollered after me as she laughed with Kayla.