Page 2 of Defined and Defiled
“I happen to know there's a certain janitor that you could easily sweet-talk into letting you borrow his keys.”
“And why would I do that?” The last thing I want is to talk to Mike more than I have to. He is an alright guy, but I hate the fact that he assumes being the only two young, single humans in the school means we should see each other after hours. There is no one I would want to see after-hours. I even go to the grocery store a town over just to try to avoid running into any of my kids, or God forbid, their parents.
“Because besides Bailey, he has the only copy of the basement keys.”
I straighten. The basement storage had been shut off in the nineties after some kids took The Craft a bit too seriously. I love that our school embraces diversity, but nothing is more frightening than preteens with a grimoire. Or teenagers in general. There’s a reason I stick to the elementary side of the school. It's been yearssince anyone has been down there, but there's still a possibility that something good has been tucked away, waiting for me.
“Principal Bailey said the basement is off limits.”
Marge finally looks up from whatever she'd been working on. While it's nice to have her full attention, staring at her straight on always makes me shiver. I wrap my cardigan tighter around me.
“And we always listen to Bailey.” Marge's grin is wicked as she presses down on the intercom button. “Mr. Fleming, you're needed in Ms. Sumner's class.”
Mike beats me to the classroom by ten minutes. The students are long gone for the day, and I should be too. Even without the meeting with Principal Bailey, I wouldn't have gotten out the doors before my contract time. There is always so much more to do. One planning period while the kids are doing their electives will never be enough to do it all.
One of my students, Sophie, has left her jacket behind again. I fold it in half, admiring the chunky horse embroidered on the sleeve. I make a mental note to send a message to her parents while I figure out what to say to Mike. Flirting on demand has never been my speed.
He gives in first, clearing his throat. Mike's outfit would be improved by a chunky horse jacket. His jeans are stained with the day's work. His polo collar is as askew as the lopsided grin he sends my way.
“You wanted to see me, Shirley?” Mike's smile reminds me of my class when I tell them we'll be ending the day with Heads-Up Seven-Up instead of our wrap-up question. I take a deep breath and set Sophie's jacket down.
“I have my students doing a project on the history of the school. They're making a map, and I realized I've never seen the basement. It got me curious, and I wanted to check it out for myself.” I should feel bad that lying comes so easily.
“The basement is strictly off-limits.”
I sit down at my desk and cross my legs. It's hard to miss the way Mike's eyes follow the slight movement of my skirt. He must be a starving man if the work-appropriate glimpse of my ankle brings that look in his eye. I'm not proud of my Victorian seduction technique, but who needs dignity when the state of education is at risk?
“I just figured it would be enlightening for me to see it firsthand. With you. I mean, of course, I'd want you there with me in case anything scary showed up.”
There is no way he is believing this. Mike would struggle to lift a pencil if he needed to. It is a scientific marvel that he manages to push a cart around every day, but still could lose at arm wrestling to any of my kids. Maybe even the fourth graders.
“Of course, I'll help you.” He responds as his eyes stay glued on my ankle, “But this has to stay between us. Bailey would have my head if he knew I let anyone down there.”
Well, that was embarrassingly easy.
“Okay, can we go now?”
Mike's eyes jump up to meet mine.
“Now?” He draws out the word as if I’ll change my mind by the time he’s done.
I point to the sign I hung up for my students who love to turn in their assignments late, ‘Why put off tomorrow what you could do today?’
“Yeah. Of course, I just,” Mike gulps and then puffs out his chest. “In and out okay?”
I use my best smile on Mike as I grab my computer bag off my desk and jump down. The tips of his ears turn red, and for a second, I feel bad about using him like this.
“Maybe after this, you and I can go to Ratcliff's?” He shuffles as he asks this, not meeting my eye.
Neither of us makes enough money for fine dining on a Tuesday. Besides, last I checked, Ratcliff's was on the whole other side of town. There's nothing on earth that could get me to drive to that side of the Wonder Hole on a school night.
So I lie.
“We'll see.”
I could easily be convinced that the basement was shut off purely, because no one wanted to walk down the steep, dusty staircase. The stairs to go down to the basement should have the school condemned for crimes against humanity.
Both of us are dusty and out of breath by the time we make it to the basement door. The door is barred with chains and a lock the size of my fist. Mark has to shuffle through his overloaded keyring a few times before he finds the correct one.
