Lust

a lovers’ spat.” She gave a friendly wave to the group of teachers smiling and cheering them on from the sidelines.

“I’ll ask you again, what are you talking about?” he repeated, smiling through gritted teeth.

“I’m talking about your nonexistent policy, Mr. Powell. I’m talking about your loose relationship with the truth and your looser one with the rules.” She moved in closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m talking about you and Beth-I saw you.”

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean,” Powell protested. His face had gone white. “There was nothing to see.”

“Right,” Kaia said sarcastically. “I hope that’s not the poker face you’re planning to use when you talk to the principal, or the school board, or hey, the police-”

His fingers tightened on her waist.

“That’s right, the police,” Kaia said. “Small town like this, full of all those family values, I imagine they don’t look too kindly on this sort of thing. Teacher preying on innocent students. We’re just children, really…”

“You don’t want to screw with me, Kaia,” he warned her in a low, ominous voice.

“Not anymore,” she said lightly, shaking her head. “No, you chose someone else for that-and I can live with it. I just hope that you can.”

And, waving again in the direction of Powell’s fellow teachers, she squeezed in close to Jack Powell and slammed her lips to his, jamming her tongue into his mouth before he knew what was happening, and then, with a less than gentle nibble on his lip, she pushed him away.

“See you around, Mr. Powell-you can count on it.”

Beth, Adam, Miranda, and Harper witnessed the scene from the sidelines with a mixture of shock, awe, and horror (in different proportions, depending on the witness).

“That girl is unbelievable,” Harper gasped. “What the hell is she thinking?”

“Unbelievable is right,” Adam repeated, sounding almost impressed. Beth looked at him sharply, and his eyes shot down to the ground, avoiding her gaze. In his pocket, his hand tightened around the now empty flask.

“Bet you wish you had the nerve to do that, Beth,” Miranda laughed. “I know I do.”

Beth stammered and blushed and mumbled something about nothing, and finally Harper cut in.

“Oh, please, Beth’s not that pathetic, and neither are you, Miranda. She practically jumped down his throat-it was embarrassing to watch! What was that you were saying about her being so sad and misunderstood, Adam?”

Now it was Adam’s turn to stammer nonsensically.

“It’s really, uh, none of our business,” he finally said, turning away from the dance floor, where Mr. Powell was still standing alone and motionless, only barely visible through the swirling wall of dancers.

“You’re totally right,” Beth added with relief. “Let’s just dance.”

“Definitely.” He clasped her by the hand and led her quickly onto the dance floor, leaving Harper and Miranda behind in disbelief.

“None of our business?” Miranda asked. “Since when does that stop us? Is this a new policy I wasn’t told about?”

“I guess we both missed the memo,” Harper said in disgust. “Look at them.” She gestured weakly toward Beth and Adam, who were slowly swaying in each other’s arms, despite the fast-paced rock song blaring through the speakers. “He can’t keep his hands off her for a minute.”

“This dance sucks,” Miranda said.

“Tell me about it.”

They stood together at the edge of the action, watching dozens of couples swirling around the floor. That was the problem with scoping for hot guys at school formals. The inspirational girl-power-themed episodes of bad TV shows notwithstanding, the fact was that all the normal guys showed up to these things with dates. So unless you were ready to break up a matched pair and leave some unfortunate girl drying the tearstains on her dress under the bathroom hand blower (not that Harper hadn’t left her share of those in her wake), you were shit out of luck. No, instead you were stuck with prizes like Lester Lawrence, decked out in a sky blue tux and ruffled Hawaiian shirt, and his gang of losers. Miranda was sure any one of them would be happy to dance with her. Great.

And then, like Prince Charming, appearing as if by magic out of the mist: Kane.

He strode purposefully toward them, with Kaia nowhere in sight.

“You ladies look bored,” he said. “How about a dance?”

For a moment Miranda, who figured any drugs harder than pot weren’t worth the dead brain cells, finally understood what people were always talking about, that rush of ecstasy, a shot of pure joy exploding out of you, so powerful that it shut out the world for a moment, threatened to sweep you away.

But it was just for a moment.

Because when she came down to earth, Kane’s words still ringing in her ears (familiar words, as he’d uttered them so often in the G-rated portion of her fantasies), she realized that his arm was outstretched to Harper. Of course.

Harper took his hand and headed toward the dance floor, shooting Miranda an apologetic look over her shoulder. There was nothing to apologize for, of course. This was just the way it worked.

Couples danced, the band played, Lester Lawrence talked to the pet grasshopper in his pocket, and Miranda stood on the fringes of it all.

Alone.

That’s life, right? C’est la vie.

Kane swung her around the dance floor, moving effortlessly in time with the music, now a slow R &B groove. He danced with ease, skill, and grace-the same way he did everything else. (If Kane couldn’t do it well, he didn’t do it at all.)

“Having a good time, Grace?” he asked.

“Not particularly.” There was no point in putting on a brave face, since she was sure he couldn’t care less. “How about you? Enjoying your date with our very own Lolita?” She spotted Kaia on the sidelines, fending off a crowd of curiosity seekers-Mini-Me, she was pleased to see, among them. Harper supposed she should be a bit dismayed that her own personal fan club seemed to be redevoting itself to Kaiaworship, as it was just another sign of the rich bitch encroaching on her territory. But somehow, she just couldn’t work up the energy-besides, having the sophomore squad chase after her was, in the end, far more punishment than reward.

“I’m enjoying myself very much, thanks,” Kane replied. “Of course, not as much as him.’ He swung her around, bringing her face-to-face with Adam and Beth, arms draped loosely around each other, swaying in the middle of the dance floor, clearly in a world of their own. Their eyes were closed, and Beth’s head rested on Adam’s broad shoulder. He ran his hands slowly up and down her back.

Harper felt sick. She looked away-right into Kane’s disgustingly knowing grin.

“Jealous?”

Harper said nothing.

“Just letting you know, my offer still stands. You and me, the anti-Cupids. Just say the word.”

Harper stole another glance at the happy couple. Adam was now running his fingers through her long, blond hair.

God, it was tempting.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Harper breathed a sigh of relief-Kaia’s icy voice had never been more welcome. “He is my date, after all,” Kaia pointed out snottily.

Harper let her hands drop and stepped away.

“My pleasure-he’s all yours.” She walked away-but not quickly enough that she didn’t overhear Kaia’s parting shot.

“It’s so sweet of you to keep Harper company, Kane,” she oozed. “You know, since she couldn’t find a date of her own.”

Harper resisted the temptation to turn back and slap her-and the marginally more powerful temptation to take another look (or extended, longing stare) at Adam. Instead she kept her eyes focused on Miranda, lingering next to a large bowl of pretzels and looking forlorn; she focused on Miranda and, about ten feet behind her, the exit.