A Request and an Ultimatum
Standard disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, and all characters are 18 or older.
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As the season went on, the Bennet Academy varsity volleyball team, normally mediocre, had something of a rally, the girls winning a string of games that saw them playing more away games than ever. This, in turn, meant that I spent many a night crashing in cheap motels or dozing on the bus as it cruised home at 1:00 am. You'd have thought this would have made for more opportunities to sneak off with Emma or Zoey, the simple fact that Emma remained ignorant of my relationship with her friend kept me overly cautious.
I don't know why I hadn't told Emma. There had been no talk of us being exclusive, or even a couple. We just fucked sometimes. And Zoey didn't seem to care that I was still sleeping with Emma. All of her jealousy was gone now, replaced with a coy submissiveness that I found incredibly hot. Still, there was always the worry at the back of my mind that this could all fall apart at any moment. It wasn't a loud worry, to be sure, but it was there.
Neither girl really seemed to mind the slowdown in our sex lives. They were playing hard, and there wasn't a lot of spare energy for clandestine quickies behind a convenient dumpster. When I brought grading along, I actually got it done. Which was good, but I was horny as hell. And night after night sitting front and center at a girl's volleyball game didn't really help with all of that. I almost never saw any of my students out of uniform, so the tight athletic shorts, some so small half an ass cheek hung out, were quite the revelation. Night after night, watching the girls run and jump and twist... yeah, it was rough.
So when Principal Connell stopped me in the hall during planning to ask if I could give Emma a ride home from practice, the first place my mind went was the double meaning of the word "ride" and not immediate irritation at his imposition.
"It's just that," he said, "You're always here so late anyway, and my wife and I have an important fundraiser dinner we can't miss. Emma said she's fine with it too."
"I mean, if Emma's comfortable getting a ride from me, then I guess it's cool. None of her friends were available?" I replied, trying not to smirk at my double-entendre.
Connell shook his head, "Yeah, even Zoey was busy, and she pretty much always can."
"Huh. Okay, I guess so," I finally agreed. Another fundraiser dinner? He'd just gone to one last month. I knew the school was having something of a budget crisis, but this smacked of desperation. Connell was a little man, in more ways than one. He held grudges, and had driven multiple teachers away over some perceived wrong that had turned out to be bullshit. I'd even seen him explode on a parent more than once. Probably explained a lot. How I got on his good list, I'll never know, but I was perfectly happy to stay there.
I just hoped his idiocy wasn't going to lead to the school closing or anything like that.
"Thank you, Harlow. I really appreciate all your help," he gave me a damp handshake and hustled off. I waited until he turned a corner before wiping my hand on my pants.
***
I taught largely on autopilot for the rest of the day, my head overflowing with all the possibilities that came with being alone in a car with Emma. Clever, clever girl. When sixth period came around, I could tell by the smug grin on her face that she had some ideas too. That class went by especially fast, all a blur until the bell rang and the girls sprang from their seats.
While everyone else filed out, Zoey sidled up to my desk. Her pretty face was creased with worry, and she walked with little mouselike steps, only half-looking at me as she came. Emma, last at the door, gave her a questioning look- they had to get to volleyball practice.
"I just remembered something I gotta ask Mr. Harlow," she said, flashing a brief, mostly convincing smile. Emma gave her the thumbs up and headed out.
"Hey Zoey," I said, "All good?"
She let out a long breath, the kind you exhale when you're getting ready to say something particularly difficult. When she did speak, it all came out in a rush.
"I really think we should tell Emma. I don't feel good sneaking behind her back." Now she looked at me, her blue eyes huge and pleading. "I know her dad asked you to give her a ride home tonight. Maybe you could do it then?"
Ah, I thought, That's why Emma couldn't catch a lift home with her friend. I knew Zoey well enough by now to understand how she thought- she set this up, in a roundabout way. I wasn't upset. She was right, after all. It wasn't respectful to Emma. Guess I wasn't getting laid tonight.
I let out a long sigh, said, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. But can I ask where this came from? I thought you didn't care."
"Guess you were wrong," Zoey replied, steel in her voice. I remembered the same resolute tone from the night she blackmailed me into fucking her. "She's one of my best friends. I can't do this to her."
Surprised at her heat, I held up both hands defensively, "Okay! I'll tell her tonight."
She relaxed a little. "Thank you. Text me when you're done. I'm sure she's going to blow up my phone, if she doesn't just steal her dad's car and drive right over."
She kissed my cheek and practically skipped out of the room. For my part, I felt as high as a lead balloon, weighted down with anticipatory dread. Best case scenario, Emma broke it off but I kept on with Zoey. Worst case, was the standard array of fears- job loss, prison, etc. Realistically, I expected results somewhere in the middle: an end to my fling with Emma, the slow death under social pressure of what I had with Zoey, and an extremely awkward rest of the year that would end with guaranteed A's and glowing letters of recommendation for them both.
Man, had I ever misread the situation with Zoey. I dragged my hand through my hair, spun around in my seat once, twice, three times. Then I stopped, turned to the mountain of grading on my desk. I got out my red pen and went to it. What else could I do?
***
Emma announced herself with a sharp rap at my door and a cheery "Hey, Mr. Harlow!" I whipped around my chair to face her, heart thundering. Zoey's ultimatum rolled around my head, slid down to my tongue where it died the moment I saw how Emma was dressed. I don't think my jaw dropped, but my slacks certainly got tighter.
