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261 lines
9 KiB
Text
261 lines
9 KiB
Text
.LP
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.ce
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.ps 16
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.CW
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THE BAD STUDENT
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.R
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.ps 8
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.CW
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tags: 1969, frankie_willard, prince, tab2, cheryl
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I tear a sheet from my notebook. After some fidgeting I manage to
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produce a cigarette. I lean back against the concrete wall of the
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building, my rat\-tail poking into the scruff of my neck. It's rather
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uncomfortable. There is a commotion from somewhere, over near the
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basketball courts. After a brief period of silence, the school bell
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rings. I curse, sub\-audibly, taking my place in line. I'm careful not
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to crumple the cigarette as I conceal it within my sleeve.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Recess is over.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I'm antsy. I shift my weight from one leg to the other. This
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jostling brings to mind Frankie Willard, made to stand with both feet
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planted inside of a single tile on the floor. Punishment for having
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spoken out of turn. Frankie complained that because of his great size,
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he would surely topple over if he were not permitted to sway from side
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to side. The teacher sarcastically denied his request\(emstructural
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integrity be damned. No, Frankie would have to stand firmly within the
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square, maintaining his posture for the duration of the class. At the
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time, I too had regarded Frankie's claims as spurious. Does an office
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building need to sway from side to side? It seemed ridiculous. A man
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should be able to stand still.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Today I'm of a mind to view Frankie's situation in a different
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light. Standing still in this line is impossible. Despite myself, I've
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begun to sway from side to side. Fuck it, Frankie was right all along.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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At the moment, no one is watching me. I disregard protocol and
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resume my cigarette. Smoke slinks from the burning cherry, a string of
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ten\-dimensional nothingness. Or so I choose to perceive.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The boy in front of me rotates his head to an obtuse azimuth, asks
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to bum a cig. I am more than happy to oblige. From my pocket I produce
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two slender folds of paper, offering one to my companion. He's still
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in possession of the lighter I made for him, so we're all set. Good to
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go. From time to time, I'm happy to supply free product, as a short
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demonstration will often serve to spark demand. When one's business is
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illicit, establishing the perception of good\-natured magnanimity is
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wise. Happy customers are quiet customers.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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And quiet is a baseline necessity for my mission.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Just as the fresh cigarette taste is making itself apparent, our
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teacher pokes her head around the corner. She notices us stragglers,
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lately fallen away from the back of the line. She's displeased to note
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that we're still here, leaning up against the wall, each man enjoying
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an individual smoke. She approaches swiftly and proceeds to bend our
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ears. That's when she realizes who I am. Quite comically, this new
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awareness halts her scolding, mid\-sentence. She directs the other boys
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back to the classroom and then turns to me, a stupid look on her face.
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She pulls me by my rat\-tail into a deserted corridor. The contact is
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exhilarating.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I'm going to score.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The woman has been shooting me these kinds of looks all semester. A
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couple of times she's caught me adjusting my visor, straining to catch
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a peek through her blouse. Instead of voicing an objection she usually
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just smiles. It's crossed my mind that she may even
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.I
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fancy
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.R
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my attempts
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to look down her shirt. Consider: she's the only one of our first
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grade teachers who will wear shorts in summer. To my knowledge, this
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is technically against the rules. I turn these thoughts over in my
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mind, one after the other, as I consider my immediate future.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She tightens her grip on my shoulder.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I brace for a kiss.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Instead, she snatches the cigarette from my lips and sends it
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careening over her shoulder, skittering down the corridor. Well, that
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wasn't quite what I expected. I think to myself that it's convenient
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this corner of the building is devoid of traffic. Could she have
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planned our confrontation days, even weeks, in advance? Have things
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really progressed to that level? Gradually, the woman is drawing my
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attention to infinite new dimensions, threading my string through
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myriad vortices, the resulting matrix a blunt satire of our
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tessellating material realm.
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.I
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She's
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.R
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the teacher? I'm fit to burst.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She parts her lips as if to speak. Softly, softly.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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This must be it.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"So. You believe that folding pieces of paper into the shape of a
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.I
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cigarette,
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.R
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then
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.I
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selling
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.R
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them to your classmates is a good way to
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make
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.I
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friends,
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.R
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Thomas?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The tenderness I sensed only moments before is now vanished. She's
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trying her best to be stern. I can't say why, exactly, but this only
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excites me more.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"So far it seems to be working fine," I offer, straining, barely
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containing myself. "I have plenty of friends."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I've seen you outside, pretending to smoke, for weeks now. The
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students here look up to you, and I'm disappointed in how you've
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chosen to repay that trust. I want you to think of how you're
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influencing them, Thomas."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I'm not coercing anyone," I correct gently, so as not to rend the
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gossamer fragility of the moment. "I'm simply providing a service.
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There's an obvious demand and I'm only too happy to fill it. Surely
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you realize, this sort of equitable transaction is the very basis of
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our free economy, which ensures the continuity of\(em"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She kisses me.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I break free.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"\(emthe very
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.I
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continuance
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.R
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of our society."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She doesn't seem impressed with my argument.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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From my jacket I produce a conspicuously pristine piece of
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equipment. The object fairly leaps from its place of concealment. She
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is somewhat startled, tries to mask her reaction, but the sudden
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adoration evident in her eyes will not be suppressed. Does she know
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what this is, then, after all? Removing her hand slowly from my own,
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I raise the object to my chest (her waist) and finger the switch that
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brings it to life. She jumps as a holographic image grows out of my
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palm. I have to adjust my visor again before I'm able to see it.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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So, this is Prince Rogers Nelson. Not exactly an imposing figure,
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but in relation to his framing, here in my hand, it hardly matters.
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Reports indicate that my teacher is quite enamored with this miniature
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entertainer. By all rights he was a fine composer, but some say he
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actually considered himself to be the physical reincarnation of the
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Egyptian Pharaoh
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.I
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Ahkanaten.
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.R
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There was a spate of controversy around
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the time he decided to found his own religion.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Whatever.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The unexpected appearance of the tiny man seems to be doing the
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trick with my teacher. As PRN begins to vibrate, I angle him beneath
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her skirt.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Just lay back," says Prince.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She does as he says.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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While she is momentarily stunned, distracted, I remove the
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remaining contraband from my pockets, depositing several paper
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cigarettes onto the window ledge behind me. Shortly thereafter, the
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spring breeze carries them away, floating them ever downwards, towards
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the unnaturally green summer grass of the courtyard. All evidence of
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my wrongdoing thus disposed of, I snap closed my gadget and switch to
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manual, gazing deeply into my teacher's eyes as I finish her off.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She's some time in coming. But once sated, her body goes slack. At
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last, I relax my arm and place my hand on her exquisite breast.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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To my great surprise, she recoils. It seems I have ventured too
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far. She smiles awkwardly and pushes me away, leans her head out of
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the window to see what I've been up to all this time she's been
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writhing under the ministrations of the holographic Prince. Her face
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shoots completely red, full of blood. The view from the window, of
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course, is unremarkable, but it's not the landscaping below that
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concerns her. She sees the paper cigarettes scattered about the
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courtyard and deduces that they must belong to me.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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She begins to lecture me. Even these playthings, which are not real
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at all, still set a negative example for the other students. Such toys
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glorify the act of real smoking. I should have known better than to
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engage in this sort of thing while at school. The premises is also a
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commerce restricted zone, blah blah blah, etc. She is scrupulous to
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avoid any mention of her orgasm, though I sense the experience is
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still very much on her mind.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Overall, it proves to be a lackluster brow\-beating. I consider the
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context of present events set against the larger backdrop of my
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mission and decide that her appraisal of my behavior is irrelevant. At
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twelve years of age, infiltrating the first grade has been a cakewalk.
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If this doesn't boost my grade average I don't know what will. I
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swear, I'm ready to graduate CU/FARLEY. Let's hope my father and the
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Chief see things my way.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I acknowledge her statements as I shove my hand into my pants and
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scratch my groin.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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As we return to the classroom, I reach out to hold her hand.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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I probably don't have to tell you that I use the same hand.
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