Fallon and Flint: The Stripper and the Schoolteacher

Stripper Meets Schoolteacher

Flint

It’s the middle of second period, my only free period all day. There’s only one coffee maker in the whole school, and it lives in the main office, where most of the real teachers can’t get to it. They usually have far too many papers to grade and class plans to make. But today, I need my coffee; the papers can wait.

I just pray that Kate won’t be in there. Yes, I did figure out her name—Kate, not Katie. I learned it by listening to the fifteen voicemails she left me, screeching about how I didn’t call her after we had s*x.

Kate isn’t there, I learn with relief when I reach the office, but someone else is: Lacey. Lacey and…her mother?

I’m not sure what to make of her, this woman standing behind Lacey, fingers absentmindedly tousling the girl’s hair as only a mother’s normally would. She certainly doesn’t look like a mother. She’s far too young and far too alluring. She’s quite possibly the most magnetizing woman I’ve ever seen. 

And yet, even from my first impression of her, I can see that she is a horrible influence for Lacey. She’s dressed in little more than scraps, baring far too much of her soft, creamy skin for the world to see. Her thick, dark mane of hair cascades down her back in long waves, attracting far too much attention than a mother should ever require. Everything about her—her makeup, her gestures, her mannerisms, and certainly her ridiculously tight body—emulates a s*x appeal far beyond one Lacey should even know. And Lacey is far more important to me than this stranger’s s*x appeal.

“Lacey,” I greet my student as I begin to pour my coffee. “Just checking in for the day?”

“She had a bit of a rough night last night,” the woman tells me. Even her voice is sexy—simultaneously as pearlescent as her skin and as ragged as her clothes. I turn my eyes to hers and can barely stand the bright silver-gray staring back at me. Is this woman even real? “I let her sleep in a bit.”

“Ah.” I frown slightly. I’m not bothered by the thought of Lacey sleeping in; I doubt she missed much, anyway. But what kind of rough night did the girl have? And whose fault was it? “And you are…?”

“Fallon.” She doesn’t extend a hand. She eyes me carefully. “Fallon Mercury. Lacey’s aunt.”

Aunt? It’s somewhat more excusable than mother, I suppose, but then, where is Lacey’s mother? Does this Fallon think that, just because she’s not the girl’s mother, she’s can influence her in whatever ways are convenient?

“Flint Cooper,” I say after a second, because even though she didn’t extend a hand, it’s still courtesy to introduce myself, and I’m in the habit of teaching kids proper courtesies. “Pleasure.”

I feel Lacey’s curious eyes on me, then see them move to Fallon, expression not wavering. Finally she straightens and says, “Well, I should get to class.” And, after giving Fallon an unexpected hug and kiss on the cheek, she leaves.

Fallon glances over at me as if waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, she gives me a guarded smile and heads out.

I find myself following her.

“Excuse me,” I call after her, entering the hallway. “Excuse me… Miss Mercury?”

It’s strange, addressing this woman the same way I address Lacey in class. It’s strange that they have the same last name, come to think of it. Lacey’s mother must have never married, or not respected the father enough to give the girl his name.

Fallon stops and turns upon hearing her name. Even under the harsh fluorescents, she’s quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I find myself thinking as I drink in the sight of her. But that’s not what this is about. Besides, in my experience, beauty is only ever skin-deep.

“Yes?” she asks me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—I can’t help but take the opportunity, having met you, to bring this up. I’d love to be able to have a conversation with you about Lacey.”

She crosses her arms, frowning. “Is something wrong? She told me she’s doing well in school.”

“She’s doing very well—she’s one of my best students. That’s actually why I’d like to talk to you.”

She clears her throat. She doesn’t seem to trust me, which is a bit ironic to me, given that she looks like a vixen on the hunt and I look like the nerdy schoolteacher that I always do. “Well,” she says slowly, “okay. Here?”

“My classroom’s close, if you’d like to go there. I have a free period.”

She stiffens visibly, which, frankly, I find offensive. Why is she treating me like some kind of weirdo or threat? I just want to talk to her about Lacey. I find my dislike for her growing by the minute. Nonetheless, she nods and tells me to lead the way, so I do. 

When we reach my classroom, I take a seat at my desk instantly, making a point of not going anywhere near her. She stands stiffly across the room. 

“So?” she asks. “Lacey?”

I carefully consider how to phrase what I want to say to her. “Look… Lacey’s smart. One of the smartest kids I have. She’s a hard worker, and she’s absolutely a good person. But the other kids at this school…well, a lot of them aren’t. And no one’s invincible to peer pressure.”

She doesn’t seem the slightest bit surprised; in fact, I seem to be boring her. “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, but she’s already told me all of this. I know it’s hard for her here—that the other kids give her a hard time when she actually tries to exert herself. But neither of us has the power to change the attitudes of five hundred kids.”

I’m not sure what I’m more surprised by—the fact that Lacey shared so much with her aunt, or the fact that Fallon is such an intelligent speaker. I certainly wouldn’t have guessed either.

“I’m sorry,” I say, deciding to focus on the first, “but if you don’t mind me asking—are you her legal guardian?”

“No,” she says quickly; “that’s her mother. But I think I’m listed under all her contact information. I tend to handle… things like this.”

None of this makes much sense to me. “Is there some reason her mother can’t?”

I’m not sure what my intentions were with that question, exactly, but the results are clear: she’s upset. “Look, I came here to talk about Lacey. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about her?”

Well, she’s upsetting me just as much as I’m upsetting her. What does she think I’m getting at here? “I’m here to talk about Lacey, too. That’s why I’m asking you these questions. Look, Miss Mercury, I’ve noticed a lot of things in the months I’ve been teaching her. Lacey isn’t just smart—she’s experienced. The comments she makes in class…They’re well beyond her years. They’re not just mature comments; they’re sad comments. Comments no one would want a fourteen-year-old girl to have the ability to make.”

Fallon’s misty, silver-gray eyes fall, and she doesn’t say anything for several seconds. When she finally does, her voice sounds different—quieter. “You don’t know how sorry I am to hear that.”

And yet, still she hasn’t answered me. “It’s just,” I push, voice starting to rise, “there must be a reason for it. If something’s going on at home, if something’s going on with her mother, or if she’s spending too much time with you—”

“What exactly do you want me to say here?” Her voice is rising, too. “Do you have an actual question for me? Would you like me to tell you that Lacey has a horrible home life and needs to be rescued?”

“I’d like to tell me you’ll do something about it!” I nearly shout back. “Help her!”

“I am doing everything in my power to help her, and how dare you suggest that I’m not?” she demands. “You don’t know me. You don’t know her mother. You don’t know any of us.”

“Everything in your power,” I repeat. I can’t believe the nerve of this woman. “Do you think you’re some sort of role model for her? The way you’re dressed? Bringing her in late to class? Letting her have rough nights—”

She closes the gap between us so quickly, the words disappear from my lips. Her voice is made of ice when she spits her words at me. “Don’t you dare say another word. Every single thing I do is for that girl. Everything. Maybe if you could take a step back and not judge everyone around you from the one, miniscule angle you’re standing at, you’d realize that.”

And she turns on her heel and walks away.