I have heard it said that you can never be too rich or too thin but whoever said that obviously didn't know Angela Tubinello. We all watched her waste away to nothing, her hair growing lifeless, her skin patchy as she convinced herself and her body that she didn't need food, her Daddy's money or anything or anyone here at St. Charlotte's. Her whole life she had been the good girl who always did the right thing and where did it get her? Six feet under at Park Lawn cemetery. Now I obviously was taking a different path here at Charlottes for the Harlots as we affectionately called our dear alma mater. I had been here 6 years now and was counting down the days until graduation. College stretched out ahead of me. I was bright, the class valedictorian, the smartest girl in school with the worse reputation! Oh I was a good girl all right, very good at being extremely naughty that is.
It was a bright, autumn day. The sky was blue and dotted with white puffy clouds as I rushed across campus to make it to my AP English class. The leaves had been painted with scarlets, yellows and gold. We had a test today and although I might take my reputation lightly, or entertain a lax moral standard, my study habits were impeccable and my school work untarnished. Mr. Dominic Garity was just pulling the door shut as I slipped through, throwing him an impish smile, "You are late, he whispered with a scowl.
"Oh just a moment or two", I responded lightly as I slid into my desk, "Test today, right?" I had been busy during the lunch break and I couldn't help grinning as I remembered.
"Right," he replied, pulling the door shut. His scowl deepened as he took in my appearance, hair mussed, knees grass stained, and I laughed quietly to myself when I realized my blouse was buttoned wrong.
I returned his gaze and winked mischievously at him, causing him to blush and glance about to see if anyone else had noticed. He quickly passed out the tests and I demurely started on mine. Mr. Garity walked about the room quietly at first, ready to answer any questions. Once all the girls had started on their tests he made his way up to the front of room where he busied himself at his desk. Occasionally I would feel his dark brown eyes on me. After finishing the test I brought it forward and handed it to him. As our hands touched I felt the warmth of his tanned skin and I couldn't help wondering if that tan was all over. He was an attractive man, in his mid 20's, but he seemed quiet, and thoughtful. All the girls had a crush on him at some time. It was rumored that he had been a priest but he seemed young for that.
As I turned in my test he mentioned an award or competition or something he wanted me to enter. The prize was a summer internship and a cash award. Since my parents divorce I had been searching for something to do next summer. Anything would be better than going home, watching my mother drink and listening to my father's excuses. This seemed like the perfect opportunity
It was later that day, only about five but already getting dark when I remembered the application Mr. Garity had mentioned. It was Friday and most of the staff had already left but as I walked past the parking lot I saw his car still parked in the lot.
I slipped quietly up the stairs and down the now deserted hallway. It was strange to be here at night without the hallway filled with chattering girls, laughing and moving from class to class. The hall loomed shadow-filled ahead of me, lit only by the red glare of the exit signs and a small puddle of light that poured out of the open door of the English department offices. You could hear the sounds of the clock hands moving and the rattle of old pipes under the drinking fountain. Somewhere downstairs a door slammed shut and a voice could be heard telling someone goodnight.
I stood for a moment at the door to Mr. Garity's small office. His dark head was bent over a thick stack of papers before him and as I watched he absent-mindedly removed his glasses and rubbed his dark brown eyes. Did I hear a sigh or only imagine one? He stretched, lifting his arms above his head and leaning back in the chair. I took the opportunity to knock lightly and step into the room.
"Miss Gallagher?", he said, surprised, glancing to the functional clock on the wall.
"Yes I was going by and remembered the application you mentioned." I smiled taking a seat. He lowered his arms and ran his hands through his hair glancing over his desk looking for the application.
"Oh, of course," he replied handing it to me, his voice becoming more excited. "When I saw this I immediately thought of you. You are more than qualified and have a real gift. I have no doubt you would do well in this competition." He then leaned forward earnestly, "Miss Gallagher, Colleen?" he paused searching for the right words. "May I be frank with you? I have been your teacher now for over a year and I want you to know I have never met a person your age with such a gift for writing and expressing yourself. You are bright, intelligent, but I worry about some of the choices you have been making lately."
"Choices?", I asked crossing my legs, my short plaid uniform skirt slipped higher. I let my hands slip down over the plaid fabric of my skirt, tugging at the hem, exposing the soft tanned skin of my thighs.
He shifted in his chair trying to tear his eyes away from my legs. His face reddened slightly but he went on, determinedly. "Yes, choices", he continued. "For example, this afternoon, your tardiness and appearance."
"My appearance? I wear the same old blue plaid skirt, white blouse and blue sweater that all the girls here do." I answered, looking innocent. I pouted slightly, my full lower lip jutting out. My tongue flicked out wetting them.
His eyes followed the wet pink tip of my tongue. He closed his eyes, looking for strength. "I'm not sure what you were doing before class but I do know what it seems like when you come rushing in, your hair mussed, your knees grass-stained. Colleen, even your blouse was buttoned wrong!"
"Was it?" I asked, standing up I took a seat on the edge of his desk swinging my long leg. I picked up a photo frame on the edge of his desk and glanced at it, then back to him. He looked uneasy, his eyes staring at my leg. "Are those our tests?"
He shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable and nodded, "Yes", he shuffled the papers, "Yes these are your classes test papers. Of course you did well", he rambled on nervously. He looked terrified and I felt a surge of power deep inside of myself.
Sensing his uneasiness I leaned closer. "What are you doing Colleen, he whispered? His eyes were fixed on the button of my blouse, as he stared I slowly reached up unbuttoning a button. I could see his response as he swallowed hard, sitting back in his chair, trying to put distance between himself and the temptation I presented.
"Were you really going to become a priest," I asked?
"Yes, I studied for six years."
"Perhaps I should make a confession", I smiled.
"No Colleen, I cannot take your confession. I left too soon."
