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"Sandra frowned and shook her head. He was getting to her; she did want hm. Or at least she'd looked at him some times and wondered, considered, daydreamed. But this was the real thing, and she wasn't going to let anything happen. She wasn't. "You'll tell her you showed up late and I wasn't there. I'll tell her I didn't go. Okay?"Mark laughed. "Okay." "Promise?" I promise. I won't admit to anything we do tonight. Our secret." You are incorrigible." Sandra frowned, but her eyes sparkled."And you are a babe. If you want, we can got to my place and I'll fix dinner." No," Sandra laughed, then she shook her head. "No. I mean it." A restaurant, then. That's fine. I'm a lousy cook and we can go to my place later." No, Mark. I mean it." Your place then?" You are not going to seduce me. I'm a grown woman, and that's all. Please stop."There's a little Italian restaurant a couple blocks away. Shall we go?" No. Yes," Sandra said, feeling somehow defiant. "Dinner is okay. Nothing more. You're not. Please don't... I can't see you anymore."I sat in the backseat of my car, oblivious as it wound its way very slowly through the crowded streets of the Upper East Side. Actually, I was pretty oblivious to everything. There was a buzzing noise somewhere around me.At first, I fumbled around as if searching for my alarm clock before realizing I was in a car. That's about when I noticed that the buzzing was coming from INSIDE my pants.Taylor was calling me. Growling in frustration, I answered the phone. "Yeah." Johnny! I've got great news!" Really," I answered with biting sarcasm. "I'm not having a very good afternoon." Yes, yes." She didn't really hear me. "I got a new photo shoot! I'm going to Paris!" Wait, what?" Paris! I got a new photo shoot. Fashion Forward called me this morning and asked me to do a cover for them!" Wow... That IS great." And I meant it. My voice didn't sound very perky, but as crappy as I felt at the moment, a part of me felt quite happy for Taylor. The magazine.
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Debbie sat across the desk from me, and set her bagdown on the floor and crossed her legs. Her leg bounced nervously. I tried to focus my thoughts onwhat she was saying rather than her foot. I struggled not to stare as she told me if there were a wayto earn extra credit for the class, because she didn't think she'd pass this semester. It would hold herback at least a year since that particular class was only held in the spring.I told her that it was impossible, since the grades had to be submitted at 6:00 that evening. I looked atmy grade book and noticed she was already passing with a C. Barely, but passing nonetheless. But Idecided to be naughty."You're right." I said, "You're getting a D. You'll have to repeat the class next year." "Please. Is thereanything I can do to pass?" My heart started beating quickly at these last words. They were aprofessor's wet dream. Naughty ideas popped into my head. She looked disappointed, so I asked tosit on the couch with me. Debbie began looking.

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