The Last Incubus Ch. 19

The Last Incubus: Chapter 19

Chapter 19: No good deed goes unpunished.

"Renounce your sins by doing what is right, and your wickedness by being kind to the oppressed." ~ Daniel 4 v. 27.

*****

It was almost 10:30 by the time I got back to Tina's house. When I got to the top of the stairs, Tina was there waiting, wearing nothing but a smile.

"Coming to bed?" she asked, suggestively.

"Not tonight. I'm exhausted. I just need to get some sleep," I replied, wearily.

"You do look beat, but we can just cuddle. It will help you relax," she said, offering me her hand.

"Yeah, right. Since when did you ever 'just cuddle?' The first chance you get, you'll be all over me doing a lot more than cuddling."

"I can understand how you might think that, but I was being serious. I saw how tired you were this morning, so I can only imagine how utterly exhausted you must be now. We can still sleep together without fooling around. We'll both get a better night's sleep if you do," she said earnestly.

"Oh, really? Wherever did you get that idea?"

"I read it in a magazine article," she replied, confidently.

"Where? In one of those girl's magazines?" I asked sarcastically.

"No. As a matter of fact, it was a men's magazine, Penthouse." And before you ask, it was an actual article, not one of those so-called letters from readers."

"Oh. Sorry I doubted you. Alright, I'll join you, but only if you promise to do nothing more than cuddling and sleeping."

"I promise. Now get undressed and come to bed," she said, heading towards her bedroom.

"Give me a few minutes. I need to call my folks first," I replied as I went to my room.

***

"Oh, dear. I was wondering when you were going to ask about that," my mother sighed.

"You mean it's true, I was adopted?" I asked.

"It was your Aunt Piper's idea. Your father and I had been trying to have children for quite a while. For years, we prayed that God would bless us with a child and for years those prayers went unanswered. It wasn't until a couple of years after my sister gave birth to your cousin Tina, that she told us about a woman who was looking for a couple to adopt and raise her 6-month-old son and she would pay us for it."

"We thought that God had answered our prayers at last. Not only was He giving us a son, but we would also have enough money to keep the farm afloat," she explained.

"She paid you for taking me?" I asked.

"We were a little suspicious at first, especially since she didn't want to go through an adoption agency. We thought you might have been stolen or kidnapped, but we checked with the police and there were no reported missing children." I could hear the worry in her voice.

"I don't understand. If my birth mother had money, why didn't she raise me herself?"

"According to Piper, your birth father threatened to kill you, and your mother wanted you to grow up someplace where he couldn't find you. She even provided a forged birth certificate that stated you were my child."

"Who is this woman? What's her name?" I asked.

"I don't know. That was a part of the agreement. She was to remain anonymous to your father and me, although I was told that at some point, she would reveal herself to you. I got the impression from the forged papers and the amount of money she gave us that she must be very wealthy," she replied.

"How did Aunt Piper hear about this woman?"

"She wouldn't say, and she warned me not to ask questions because it could result in your death. That's why your father and I never told you any of this. We thought we were doing God's will, but looking back now, I'm not so sure," she explained, sounding remorseful.

Before ending the call, I thanked both of my parents and told them how much I loved them and appreciated them raising me. At least it confirmed the theory Bailie and I had about me being adopted. But many more questions remained. Who were my birth parents? If my birth mother was as wealthy as my mother thought, why couldn't she have found a way of protecting me and raise me herself? Maybe she knew I was evil, and this was all some elaborate story to get rid of me, and save herself from future embarrassment. And why did my father want to kill me? Did it have anything to do with my being a demon? Was he also a demon?

Tina kept her word about 'cuddle only' when I joined her in her bedroom. She was also right about the relaxing part, as I snuggled against her warm body. It wasn't long before those questions about my birth parents seemed to fade away.

But as I drifted off to sleep, I thought about Bailie and wondered how she managed to deal with her stepfather and his "mean drunk" behavior...

***

I was in a strange apartment. To say it wasn't in the best condition would be a gross understatement. There were cracks and holes in the ceiling and walls and the paint was peeling. The place was cold and dingy, and smelled mostly of stale beer and cigarette smoke, along with a hint of bleach and pine-scented floor cleaner.

The kitchen was to my left. It was small with a noisy refrigerator that looked like it came straight out of the fifties with its rounded corners at the top and the vertical pull handle to open it. There was no separate door to the freezer section, which I guessed was inside.

The countertops were made of pale green Formica, the kind I hadn't seen in years. The kitchen table had a red top and looked like it might have come from an old diner. There were two chairs around it that didn't match each other or the table. The stove was old, but clean with just two burners at the top and the oven door was slightly askew and didn't quite close properly.

The living room was also small with an old-fashioned color TV that looked to be about 28- or 32-inch diagonal. There was a large stuffed chair with ripped upholstery next to an end table with a dirty ashtray filled with cigarette butts. There were at least a couple dozen empty beer cans scattered about on top and underneath the end table, and around the chair. On the other side of the room was a love seat of a different furniture style in a similar condition, except without the butts and beer cans. There was an open door to a dingy bathroom opposite the living room and a hallway to my right.

I heard a noise coming from a room at the end of the hallway.

"Gary, no! Please don't!" a girl's voice pleaded. It sounded like Bailie.

"Quiet! You're old enough now and it's about time you became a real woman," a man's voice said.

I ran to where the voices were coming. The door to the bedroom on the right was open and when I entered, I saw a bald, stocky man with a "wifebeater" shirt unbuckling his belt. He had the Marine Corps emblem tattooed on his right upper arm.

In front of him was a single twin bed with a thin, green blanket on top. There was a slightly younger, frightened-looking Bailie curled up in a ball, with her back to the wall, hugging her knees and looking up at the stocky man.

"What's going on here? Who are you?" I demanded.

The bald man turned to me with a surprised expression.

"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment? Get out of here before I call the police!" he yelled. His beer breath seemed to fill the room.

"Go ahead and call them. What do you think the police are going to say when I tell them you were about to rape this girl?" I retorted.

"You asked for it, you bastard," he shouted as he swung his fist at me.

He was clearly inebriated, and I easily dodged his swing, grabbing his arm as it passed by. I swung him around, so that his back was now towards me, and I knee-kicked him out the door. He stumbled across the hall, crashing into the partially closed bedroom door on the other side of the hallway. That door flew open on impact, and he continued to tumble forward, falling face first on the floor at the side of the bed.

I turned to Bailie, who was still curled in a ball, but now with her head picked up and looking at me in wonder.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I, um... I heard voices and I thought you were in trouble," I replied.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

I wanted to know the answer to that question myself.

"You must have dreamt me here," I replied.

"Oh, I guess I have. I've been waiting, hoping someone would rescue me," she replied, uncurling herself and getting off the bed. As she moved, she matured to her present-day appearance.

"How long have you been waiting?" I asked.

"I don't know, a long time. I thought I had lost hope--until now," she replied, putting her arms around me and hugging my chest. I hugged her back.

"I take it that was your stepfather?" I asked, looking at the man sprawled out on the floor in the bedroom across the hall.

"Yes," she replied, sadly.

"Are you going to be alright?" I asked.

She looked up at me. "For now. He usually sleeps it off after this. By the time he wakes up, I'll have cleaned up his mess and will be on my way to school."

She stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said before she and the apartment around me disappeared.

***

Friday, December 8

"YAAH!" I startled as I sat bolt upright, panting.

"Ross, what's wrong?" Tina asked, rolling over to face me.

"What? Where am I?" I panted before looking down at the bed and seeing Tina beside me. I was back in Tina's room and in her bed. "Oh, it was just a dream."

"Are you okay? You're covered in sweat," Tina noted, yawning after she spoke.

My skin was damp. She was right.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just give me a minute. What time is it?" I asked, my breath easing.

Tina leaned over and picked up her phone and looked at it.

"Five, fifty-eight. We have to get up in half an hour," she replied, sleepily. She rolled back on her side facing away from me.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I said as I settled back into bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax and get another 30 minutes of sleep before I had to get up.

"What was it about?" she asked, with her back towards me.

"What?" I asked.

"The dream. What was it about?"

"Oh, a girl from one of my classes, Bailie. I was in her apartment. God, that was an awful place," I recalled.

"Bailie, from the diner?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, her. In the dream her stepfather tried to rape her. He had been drinking, heavily. When I got there, he swung at me, but he was so drunk I was able to easily dodge his swing and use his momentum to turn him around and send him flying across the hall where he fell on the floor and fell asleep" I explained.

"You were in her dream?" Tina asked.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure it was based on a real memory, though. The details were so clear," I replied, still gazing up at the ceiling.

"That sounds awful. The poor girl," Tina sympathized.

"She was so traumatized by that experience. I wonder if he raped her. Although, in the dream he was so drunk, I doubt he could have gotten very far."

"What a terrible memory to have to live with," Tina said, compassionately.

"I was thinking the same thing. I wish there was something I could do to help her."

"I'll leave an extra big tip the next time we go to the diner," Tina remarked.

"When it opens," I replied rolling over and kissing her on the back of her shoulder, "Or if it opens."

***

I was sitting in my regular seat in the front row of my Economics class, early as usual, when Tripp walked in. He looked awful.

"What happened to you?" I asked, as he shuffled in and plopped himself down in the seat next to me.

"I didn't sleep very well. Gabriela and I had a fight, and she walked out on me. I think it's all over between us."

"Why? What happened? I thought things were going great between the two of you."

Tripp slumped down in his seat.

"They were, but lately she's been moody and emotional. She seems to find fault with every little thing I do. When I told her what happened at the gym with Gil and the hockey goons, she flew into a rage."

"What did you say that upset her so much?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied.

"When you told her about what happened to us with Gil at the gym, did you mention anything about what he said he'd do to 'our girlfriends'?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Tripp, you idiot! No wonder she's mad at you! She probably thinks that your wizard shenanigans put her at risk. I can't blame her for getting upset with you at that!" I explained.

"Shit," he replied, covering his face with his hands.

"We need to fix this. We need to find a way to neutralize Gil, or take him out of the picture somehow," I thought out loud.

"How? He's always surrounded by the biggest guys on the hockey team. And even if we could get him alone, his teammates would take revenge on us once they found out what we did to him," Tripp asked.

"There's got to be a way. We also need to find a way of getting you and Gabriela back together."

"Maybe I should talk with her and apologize," Tripp suggested.

"You definitely need to do that but let me talk with her first. When I last saw her, it looked like she wanted to do a little magic on you herself and make you vanish," I replied, giving him a cheesy smile.

"Hey, that's not funny. But I appreciate you talking to her first."

"Then it's agreed. Do you know her class schedule? Let me see when I can intercept and meet her," I asked.

Professor Cutler came in and started class soon after that.

After reviewing Gabriela's schedule with Tripp, there were realistically only a couple of opportunities for me to meet with her today. She had a 10 AM class on the other side of campus but I would never be able to reach her in time before she disappeared back into her dorm or wherever else she goes after class. Lunchtime would have been another possibility, but I had promised Bailie that we'd have lunch together today, and there was no way I was going to cancel that. That left intercepting her before her 1 PM Influencing Consumer Behaviors class. I planned to wait for her outside the classroom and try and talk with her then.

With nearly an hour before my Ancient Civilizations class, I tried to study, but my mind kept drifting back to Gabriela and what I was going to say to her. She wasn't willing to talk with me after Marketing class at all this week, so I needed a good opening line to grab her attention enough to open up to me and tell me her side of what was going on.

I was still trying to come up with something when 11 o'clock came around and I was sitting in Professor Duston's classroom listening to him lecture about the Carthaginian Empire and its connection to the Phoenicians in my Ancient Civilizations class. This would be the last civilization he would cover before the end of the semester finals in a week. I was enjoying the assigned reading in the course and was amazed that his lecture style could make such an interesting subject sound so dull. Still, he did offer a few unusual details not covered in the assigned literature--if anyone could stay awake long enough to hear it.

Bailie met me outside the room after class, and we walked to the cafeteria together. This was her preferred solution to waiting just inside the cafeteria door. Along the way, she told me I was in her latest dream, leaving out the details about her stepfather and his drunken attempt to rape her.

"I've had that same nightmare for over a year. Only last night, you suddenly appeared, and the worst of the nightmare never happened," she explained.

"Bailie, from what I read about dreams and nightmares, they're usually based upon real life events that the mind is trying to process or make sense of. Did something bad happen a year ago that gives you nightmares?" I asked.

She blanched. "Yes," she answered meekly as tears filled her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

The color drained from her face, and she quickly turned away, shaking her head "no." I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. She wiped her face and hugged me back, burying her head in my chest.

"This is about your stepfather, isn't it?" It was more of a statement than a question.

She nodded against my chest. Then, a quiet, "I don't want to talk about it. I can't."

"I'm here for you if you change your mind," I said, giving the hug an extra squeeze.

She broke the hug and looked up at me. "Last night was the first time I didn't wake up in a cold sweat."

"Maybe your brain is trying to change your memory of a past event in order for you to heal and move on," I suggested.

"That would be nice, although I'm not sure I can do that as long as I'm living in that apartment with Gary."

"Why don't you move out?"

She shook her head slowly.

"I can't afford to. I barely made enough money working at the diner to pay the rent and school tuition as it is. Of course, now that the diner is closed, I can't even do that. But even if I was working, I wouldn't be able to afford an apartment and tuition on my own."

"I don't understand. If you could afford to pay tuition and rent before, why couldn't you do that on your own?" I asked.

"You should see where I'm living. The place is a dump. I call the décor 'early squalor'. The only reason I can afford the rent is because my stepfather's a veteran and we get a reduced rate. His being a veteran also gives me a break on my tuition fees, too. Even if I found another apartment just as crappy, I couldn't afford the rental fees or the tuition," she explained.

"Oh. That stinks. Well, at least I can offer you a good lunch on me, okay?"

"I don't know. You've paid for all my lunches so far. I feel like such a freeloader," she replied.

"I don't mean to make you feel that way. I just enjoy your company, and the lunches are my way of bribing you to spend some time with me," I said cheerily.

That was true, but I was also worried about her getting enough to eat. Now that the diner was closed, she hadn't been able to get any free meals from the 'mistakes' at the diner, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I may be tactless, but I wasn't a complete idiot, maybe just an incomplete one.

My self-congratulations for having convinced Bailie about my motives for the lunch invitations was short-lived. She looked at me suspiciously when I insisted she eat a full lunch and not just the small salad she had originally picked out. I didn't want her to feel embarrassed, but it was difficult not to notice the unease in her manner when she finished the full plate of food along with the salad, and the slice of pie I slipped onto her tray just before we reached the cash register.

"I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who works up an appetite after a long morning of studying," I said, hoping to minimize her embarrassment.

"You don't have to feed me, you know. I'm not some charity case," she commented.

"Maybe I did go a little overboard. But I meant what I said earlier about enjoying your company. I really like you. Why else would I see you in my dreams? Please don't hold my offers to take you to lunch against me," I explained.

"But I can't give you anything in return."

"That's where you're wrong. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me, or how much I enjoy your company. Just because the way you repay me is intangible doesn't mean it's insignificant."

The expression on Bailie's face reflected her conflicted consideration about what I said, but her aura was much more revealing. It glowed a golden yellow.

"Thank you... for lunch," she said, the last two words were blurted quickly after a thoughtful pause.

"You're wel--Oh, my God! It's almost 1 o'clock! I have to go!" I panicked.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I promised a friend I'd meet someone at one o'clock. Can we meet afterwards, say around 2? I want to tell you about my phone call to my parents and what I found in my DNA result research," I said getting up and fumbling with my tray.

"Sure. I'll be in the library. Now go! I'll take care of the trays," she replied.

"Thanks!" I said as I ran out of the cafeteria.

Fortunately, the building where Gabriela's Influencing Consumer Behaviors class was held wasn't too far away. Students were just starting to file in when I arrived. A quick glance inside told me that Gabriela had not yet arrived. I wasn't too late.

It had just turned one o'clock when Gabriela came into the building. I quickly approached her and flagged her down.

"Gabriela! Can I talk with you for a minute?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Waiting for you. I was hoping we could talk," I replied.

"Did Tripp send you?"

"Well, not exactly. You see I was talking with him this--" I began.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time for this. I'm late for class," she said as she pushed past me and walked into the classroom.

"Gabriela, please, I only want to talk," I said, following her in.

"I can't talk now, and I don't want to hear anything about that self-centered jerk," she said as she headed to one of the back rows of the classroom.

I continued to follow her and sat in the seat next to her.

Gabriela did her best to ignore me, but I could see from the furtive glances she gave me when she thought I wasn't looking that my presence was making at least some impact.

The topic in "Influencing Consumer Behaviors" class that day was "switching brands." Several examples of experiments were given that showed how to get shoppers loyal to certain brands to switch to different and often competing brands by manipulating their perceptions. Advertisers would isolate certain qualities and focus on how the products they wanted the consumer to switch to had advantages over the products they were using.

As I sat there next to Gabriela, I saw the parallels between the lesson and what I was trying to do with Gabriela. Even more importantly, I was beginning to see possibilities about the Gil problem.

"So, what's so important that you so urgently needed to see me about?" Gabriela asked after the class was over.

"Tripp told me that the two of you had an argument yesterday and he shared his side of the story, but I thought it was missing something. That's why I came to you, because I wanted to hear your side of things," I explained.

"What did he tell you, that it was all my fault?" she asked.

"He said you've been moody and emotional lately," I replied.

"Oh, because of my period? That's every guy's excuse for everything any time we girls disagree with them."

"No, your period never came up. In fact, he seemed pretty clueless. That's why I thought I should talk with you," I explained.

"He's clueless all right. Ever since he found that so-called magic book at the library, he's obsessed with it, convinced it will grant him mythical powers. First, he thought he could make objects fly through the air, then he wanted to turn some guy into a frog or something. The last straw for me was when he tried to cast a spell on that mean hockey guy and turn him into a slave, or zombie, or something like that. Now he tells me that hockey guy threatened to do something to me. He cares more for that book than he does for me," she replied angrily.

What Gabriela was saying made sense. Well, at least more sense than what Tripp was telling me about her.

"I'm sorry, Gabriela. Not just for the way you feel, but for the way you've been treated. Even though he hasn't shown it lately, I know in my heart that Tripp cares for you a lot. I think he loves you, and I can tell that you still have some feelings for him. Is it alright with you if I tell him just what you've told me?" I asked.

"Go ahead, but you're wasting your breath. I already told him that last night. Tell him that if he gets rid of that book, I might consider getting back together with him," she replied.

"Gabriela, I first met you on the day I started working in the library. Back then, you were the one that encouraged Tripp to see me about finding books on magic and wizards. Remember?" I asked as we left the building.

"Of course, I remember. He was always going on about magic and thinking he was a wizard like Harry Potter. I thought it was just a fantasy of his, and we used to have a lot of fun doing cosplay and stuff like that. That's why I encouraged him to talk with you about it. But lately, he's been spending all his time with that strange book he found. It's become an obsession with him. He's not just neglecting me, he's also neglecting his studies," she explained.

"So, it's not the magic or wizard stuff, but the time he spends with that book?" I asked.

"And how seriously he takes it," she added.

She suddenly stopped walking and turned to me.

"Would you like to see my witch's costume?"

"Well, I don't know, I shouldn't--"

"Come with me, I'll show you! I look hot as hell in it," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards her dorm.

I tried to protest, but she was insistent, stating that if I wanted to bring her and Tripp back together, it was important to see what she looked like in her cosplay costume. We went up to her dorm room and she had me wait outside while she got changed. I felt awkward standing there, especially when several girls walked by looking at me with knowing smiles and disapproving glances.

"So, she dumped the Black guy for you, huh?" the brunette in the next room said as she was unlocking her door.

"No, I'm just here to--"

The brunette went inside and closed the door as I was speaking.

"--talk."

A couple of minutes later, Gabriela called from inside. "Okay, you can come in now!"

When I entered, Gabriela was in the middle of the room wearing one of those costumes you might see in an adult Halloween store or maybe a sex shop. It was all black and showed plenty of skin, especially her cleavage. Of course, there was the obligatory wand and black, pointy witch's hat.

She smiled invitingly. "I put on these shorts instead of the crotchless panties that went with it because I'm on my period. What do you think?"

She pushed up her breasts with her hands when she asked the question. There was no question that her outfit definitely displayed all the best qualities of her voluptuous body.

"I think Tripp is an idiot. Does he really spend more time with that book than with you?"

"I already told you he did," she responded.

"Even when you wore that outfit?" I asked.

"I haven't worn this outfit since he got that book. We used to dress up together. He had a sexy wizard outfit that looked hot on him. It even had crotchless silk boxers that sported his "magic wand'," she said, smiling coyly. She seemed to be staring at my crotch when she said it.

"Gabriela, maybe I shouldn't be seeing or hearing any of this. Look, if I talk to Tripp and tell him to get rid of that book, would you agree to meet with him?" I asked.

"Only if you'll be there, too," she replied, turning sideways to show me her profile and rounded ass.

I was confused by her body language. It seemed like she was trying to seduce me, but her aura wasn't bright enough for that, which made no sense.

"You don't need me there. I'll only get in the way," I replied.

"I want you to be a mediator, just in case."

"In case of what?" I asked.

"That is my condition. Do you agree or not?" she asked determinedly.

"Fine. I'll set up a meeting with the three of us and call you, okay?"

"Yes. It's settled then," she agreed.

I checked the time as I left the room, 2:40. Plenty of time to make it to my 3 PM Business Systems class. I started in that direction and then I remembered that I was supposed to meet Bailie at the library at 2!

"Oh, crap!"

The library was in the other direction. I quickly retraced my steps and found Bailie in the front section of the library getting ready to leave.

"Where were you? I've been waiting for almost an hour!" she whispered impatiently.

"I'm sorry. That took a lot longer than I had anticipated," I panted, still short of breath from running.

"Was it because of that girl I saw you with a around 2 o'clock?" she asked, suspiciously.

She must have seen me with Gabriela after we left her Influencing Consumer Behaviors class.

"Yes. I was trying to--"

"I know what you were trying to do. I saw you holding her hand and following her into the girl's dorm," Bailie interrupted. She had gathered her things and was walking towards the door.

"No, Bailie. It's not what you think. She only wanted to show me--" I began as we left the library.

"I know what girls like that want to show you. What kind of naïve idiot do you think I am?" she asked with tear-filled eyes. "Here I thought you were different. I thought you really cared. But now I see you for what you really are. All those lunches, just so you could butter me up and put your... your..."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Bailie, you've got me all wrong! Give me a chance. I would never do that to you."

"Find a new partner in Forensics class. We're through," she sobbed as she hurried her steps.

"Bailie, wait up. Let me explain," I implored, following her.

"Go away! Don't follow me!" she cried, picking up her pace.

I stopped and watched her leave. I took out my phone and saw it was nearly time for Professor Bartoli's Business Systems class. I turned and ran in the other direction.

I made it to class with less than a minute to spare. The hockey players were filing in ahead of me and by the time I got in, the only seat left was in the back of the classroom. Some of the students were leaving copies of the assignment Prof. Bartoli gave out on Wednesday at the front desk. Presumably, everyone else had submitted their assignments electronically like I did.

Professor Bartoli picked up the papers handed in at the front desk and looked through them.

"Most of you have completed your assignments on time, but I see there are a few names missing," she announced, making a point of directing her eyes to the hockey jocks sitting in the front row. "If there is anyone in this room that hasn't submitted their assignment, now is the time to do so. Otherwise, I will give you a zero as promised."

There were a few groans and gripes heard among some of the hockey players.

"You five can see me after class," she said to a few of them.

After class, everyone filed out of the room except for the five hockey players Professor Bartoli had asked to stay. Outside the classroom, I was about to text Bailie before remembering that she didn't have a working phone. I felt lost and just stared at her phone number, not sure what to do next.

As I stood there, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation going on inside the classroom.

"You five were already failing this course before the assignment. Now, because you didn't bother to even turn in a paper, you will all fail the course," I heard Professor Bartoli say.

I was about to leave when I heard Gil's voice. "No. We won't. You are going to give us a passing grade."

"A-Are you threatening me? I-I'll report you to the Dean. You'll be expelled!" I could hear the fear in Professor Bartoli's voice.

"It will be your word against ours. We'll tell him you tore up our essays just to kick us out," I heard Gil say.

Then I heard professor Bartoli's voice, "Get your hands off me! Let me go!"

I needed to do something. I rounded the corner and walked into the classroom with my phone in my hand. The five hockey thugs were surrounding Dr. Bartoli closely. She looked terrified. I couldn't see if they were holding her, but they were in the right position for it.

"Professor Bartoli, I have a question about one of the examples you gave in class today--Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know you were busy!"

"Beat it, Nerd!" Gil snapped at me.

"He's got his phone out. I'm leaving." One of the bigger goons said. He quickly exited the room.

"Me, too." / "And me." The others followed, until only Gil was left.

"This isn't over," Gil said, looking from Dr. Bartoli to me before he left as well.

"Are you okay, Professor? Did they hurt you?"

"Oh, Mr. McPherson! Am I glad to see you!" she sighed in relief.

"Please, call me Ross. I was standing just outside the door, and I heard what was going on in here. If you need an eyewitness, I'd be happy to support you."

"Would you mind walking with me back to my office? I don't know if they're still in the building," she replied. The color was just returning to her face.

"Of course, Professor, I'd be happy to."

"Under the circumstances, you may as well call me Lia. I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you did," she requested.

"Are you sure Profess--Lia?" I asked.

"That's better. I want to thank you for helping me. That wasn't the first time they've threatened me, you know," she said as we were walking.

"Did you report them?" I asked.

"No. It wasn't a physical threat back then. They said they would go to the Dean and say I was having an affair with them. They went into detail about all sorts of sordid things, but because they mentioned the possibility of multiple complaints, and their demands were minor, I decided to let it go. I didn't want things to escalate. But this. This was different. I was scared," she related.

"I'm sorry, Prof--Lia," remembering at last minute to use her first name.

We arrived at her office. She unlocked the door.

"Please come in. Or do you have someplace you need to be?" she asked.

I thought about Tripp at the gym, but this seemed more important.

"No, I can stay."

"Have a seat," she said, indicating the chair in front of her desk.

I sat down while she placed her briefcase down on the desk. I looked up at her as she leaned against the desk in front of me. Her yellow-white aura was glowing brightly!

"I read your essay. Yours was the first one turned in. It was also the best one I received, although I'll have to look through the ones handed in today, but judging from the names on the papers, I don't expect too much. Your essay was not only insightful and well-written, and you were one of the few to cite your sources," she said.

"Thank you, Prof--I mean, Li--I mean, just thank you," I fumbled.

She smiled affectionately at my awkwardness. Her aura grew as she did.

"I've been standing here, trying to think of some way of thanking you for what you did, and I know just the thing. Would you like to have dinner with me?" she asked.

"D-Dinner with you? Oh. Look, you don't have to thank me. I did nothing, really. Besides, aren't you afraid of what people might say?" I asked.

"Ross, it's just dinner. I'm not asking you into my bed if that's what you're thinking," she responded.

"N-No, I didn't mean to imply that," I said, nervously. Although from the brightness of her aura, it might have been something in the back of her mind.

"Do you like Italian food?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. I love it."

"Good. Because I make a chicken parmigiana that will knock your pants off," she replied smiling.

Wasn't that supposed to be 'knock your socks off?' I didn't correct her, given the brightness of her aura.

We walked to her place which was just off campus. I kept an eye on the time, since I still had to start my library shift at 7.

"I'll start the cooking while you open the vino. You'll find a bottle of chianti in the wine rack in the dining room," she instructed.

"Okay, but I hope you'll let me help you cook," I replied.

"Oh? Do you cook Italian?" she asked.

"Well, no, not specifically. Unless you count boiling a box of spaghetti and opening up a jar of sauce," I answered.

"Bah! Italian cooking is all about fresh ingredients. I make my own sauce, although I cheat a little by using homemade sauce that I canned in the fall. You can make the salad. You'll find everything you need in the refrigerator. I'll show you how to make a real Italian dressing," she said.

The next 30 minutes were delightful. Lia used lots of garlic in just about everything, including the water she used to cook the pasta in, giving the linguini an extra garlicky flavor. Of course, she cooked with plenty of wine, and some of it even went into the food. I was a little more cautious in my drinking. I didn't want Miss Goodman to catch me with wine on my breath when it was time to start my shift.

While we were cooking, every once in a while, Lia would "accidently" brush up against me. It seemed innocuous at first, feeling her breasts against my back or chest, or her hips, and once her hand brushed against the front of my pants. The more wine she drank, the more frequently these "little incidents" seemed to occur. I got erect, of course, but hoped she hadn't noticed.

By the time dinner was ready, Lia set the table and the mood, as the sound of violin music wafted in the air along with the smell of garlic, olive oil, tomato sauce and freshly grated parmesan cheese.

"That sounds nice, what is it?" I asked.

"Corelli's 'Sonata da Chiesa and Continuo,' Opus 1. It's a favorite of mine and helps me to relax after a particularly trying day," she replied.

"Corelli, I've never heard of him."

"He was a famous early baroque Italian violinist and composer in the 17th century. His sonatas and concertos are still played in classical music halls throughout Italy."

Perhaps it was the music, or maybe the wine, because when we sat down to eat, Lia seemed totally relaxed. A much different look from the way she looked when the hockey goons surrounded her. The dinner tasted just as good as it smelled.

"You know, you're very handsome!" Lia said, looking at me after taking another sip of wine. Her accent was much stronger.

"Uh, thank you. I think you're very beautiful," I said, not entirely sure if that was appropriate.

"You think so? You don't think that my boombas are too big?" she asked, holding her breasts.

I squirmed in my seat. Between her body language, her misspoken adages, and her aura, I would have had to have been a complete idiot not to see where all this was going.

"No, they're very lovely. One of your many attractive features," I replied.

"Oh, I know those boys can't take their eyes off them. Back in Italy, the Italian boys couldn't take their hands off them. It was fun at the time, but of course, I was younger, and it was before I got my doctorate," she recalled, smiling, with a faraway look in her eyes. Suddenly, she seemed to recall herself. "Perhaps you would like to-- Oh, no..."

As she spoke, her aura got brighter and whiter but suddenly dimmed as her voice faded.

"Lia, maybe I should be going, I have to start my shift at the library soon. Can I help you clean up a bit before I go?" I asked, getting up from the table.

My offer to help her clean up and need to leave seemed to sober her a bit. Or maybe she realized how close she came to crossing a professional line. In either case, she seemed grateful for the sudden change in subject.

"Oh, yes. Of course, I didn't mean to keep you. I enjoyed your company so much, I got a little carried away. It's just that after those baboons threatened me, I guess that my adrenaline and emotions needed someplace to go. Because you've been a perfect gentleman, I nearly forgot that you were my student. Please forgive me," she said, standing up.

"I understand. But there is nothing to forgive, Professor. This is just between the two of us."

She walked over and hugged me, pressing her boobs firmly into my chest. I was sure she could feel the bulge in my pants pressing against her. She then held my head and kissed me on the lips, slipping her tongue inside my mouth and caressing my tongue before breaking the kiss.

"It's Lia, and thank you," she whispered.

***

I made it back to the library in time to start my shift. Being Friday night, the place was nearly empty. The three students that were there when I started my shift left by 8:30, leaving me alone in the library. I quickly called Tripp to apologize about missing our workout. He was upset about something, and I spent so much time trying to get him to tell me what happened that it wasn't until he hung up that realized I had forgotten to discuss the magic book and Gabriela with him.

After that, I tried to study, but I kept thinking about Bailie. I managed to get a couple of chapters read before contacting security and telling them I was closing the library early.

On the way home, I was feeling pretty low. I seemed to be letting everybody down. Tripp wouldn't tell me what he was so upset about. Professor Bartoli looked for more than just dinner from me. Maybe she was grateful for my not allowing her to go further, but her aura indicated she had an unfilled need.

I forgot to keep my promise to Gabriela to set up a meeting between her and Tripp. Why did she need me to mediate between her and Tripp? I wondered why she was acting so strangely, like insisting on showing me her cosplay outfit? That couldn't have been a coincidence, something else was going on. Maybe it was a tease or some kind of set up.

Then, of course, there was Bailie. Just when I thought things were going well and I finally patched up the schism that had developed over last weekend, now I'm back to square one going into this weekend.

'How could I have fucked things up so badly?' I thought, feeling sorry for myself. I decided to call Tina to let her know I was on my way, just in case she was with someone.

"Hello?" A woman's voice panted.

"Tina?" I asked.

"No, it's Lezzie-- Stop. That tickles!" she giggled to someone in the background.

"Um, is Tina there?"

"Yes, but she can't come--oh, my God! --to the phone right now. Let me put you on speaker," she replied, panting.

"Are you okay?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea about what was happening from what sounded like moaning noises in the background.

"Omigod! Yes! Right there, right there--Yes, I'm fine. I'm--Oh, shit! We'll call you back--Ahhh..."

She suddenly hung up.

I stopped walking. I was looking forward to a quiet, heart-to-heart conversation with Tina, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. If I was feeling sorry for myself before, I felt even worse now. As I was standing there, wondering where I was going to go, my phone rang. I picked it up without checking caller ID, hoping it was Tina calling me back.

"Hey, Zucchini Boy! I'm calling to thank you for that fucking amazing orgasm you gave me last night. How about you get your cute little ass over her and do it in person this time?"

"Frankie? I don't know. Things have been pretty messed up today," I replied, no doubt my voice betrayed my mood.

"You sound like you need someone to cheer you up, maybe more than one. Are you still at the library?"

"No, I'm on my way home," I replied, although I wasn't so sure about that now, after talking with Lezzie on Tina's phone.

"Then get your butt over here. It sounds like you could use some company. If you want, I can have a whole bed-full of horny cunts that will screw the grumps right out of you," she replied.

"Maybe you're right about companionship, but not a bed full. I'm not in the mood for that right now," I said.

"Okay, I get you. I'll tone it down. We can just talk, if that's the mood you're in."

"Thanks, Frankie. I think I'd like that."

********

Next Chapter: A busy night of dream-walking.