Unexpected Company

“Miss Addison,” Tom said, startled by the unexpected appearance of the teacher looking down on him, her light brown hair drawn back and up tightly in a utilitarian bun, dove grey eyes narrow, peering down, box lid in her hand.

Equally startled by the appearance of miniature Tom, she jerked back, before leaning forward again and inquisitively peeking into the box.

He smiled his smile, the charming one and waved.

“The irascible Mr. Wentworth,” she said, full lips pulling down at the corners of her mouth. “How is it that you find yourself thus?” she inquired, astounded by the tiny boy.

“Chalk it an adage about curiosity and a cat. What are you doing here?” he inquired.

Unmoved by his attempt to be debonair, “I might ask the same of you,” she replied.

He turned to look at the screen of his phone, insults still spewing through the device’s speaker, before looking back up to her, “My phone,” he answered.

She nodded slowly, “It is also your phone that drew my attention,” she stated, “You have the volume turned up high enough to be audible all the way out in the hall outside Teresa’s room,” she advised, “Which, at this time of day, drew my curiosity as she should most assuredly be in class."

“Oh,” he responded, looking over at the phone. “”You have remarkable hearing,” he praised, moving over to the phone and shutting down YouTube.

She shook her head, “On the contrary, perhaps it is your hearing that is not quite what it should be for a young man your age, given how loudly you listen to your device,” she countered.

She was right, it was pretty loud and Tess had made a point of specifically cautioning him. Plus, inside the box the sound was probably amplified like some kind of echo chamber.

Grinning back up, he spread his hands, “So, what, uh, happens now?” he asked, tone casual, almost nonchalant.

She appeared to contemplate the situation. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. On the one hand, she wasn’t dragging him down to the office and exposing the whole situation to the Headmistress, but on the other hand, she wasn’t dragging him down to the office and exposing the whole situation to the Headmistress.

He could see the gears turning in her mind, “What are you thinking?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, curious to know her thoughts.

“I beg your pardon, you will address me as Miss Addison,” she corrected, annoyed at his familiarity and lack of social etiquette.

“My apologies Miss Addison, I meant no disrespect,” he offered, tone mildly disingenuous, though laced with enough seeming sincerity to not merit rebuke on her part.

“Considering your present particular predicament, I find it provocatively peculiar,” she commented, a sly expression in her large eyes.

Tom grinned, “I know, personally it’s positively perplexing,” he quipped cheekily, favoring her with his world class charming smile before hastily adding, “Miss Addison.”

Miss Addison frowned, corners of her mouth pulled down, “Alliteration aside, this circumstance presents a quandary,” she stated. “How you managed to get yourself in such a state is truly confounding, somewhat of an impossibility,” she asserted.

He nodded, using a glum expression deliberately, knowing she was pretty much immune to the influence of his devilish charm

Reaching into the box, she touched the side of his head, almost as if to confirm what she was looking at was actually real, tangible. “Remarkable,” she commented, pulling her hand slowly back.

“Still a real boy,” he beamed.

She arched an eyebrow.

“So what happens now Miss Addison?” he asked, looking up at her, adopting a more serious tone.

“Indeed Thomas, that is the question of the moment,” she replied.

He wanted to suggest she replace the lid and simply walk away and leave be, but he was pretty certain a snowball would have a better chance in hell so he remained silent.

She looked away, pondering. “I must admit, this discovery certainly helps illuminate some odd and erratic behavior in a few students of late, your sister and Janine Lindholm in particular,” she said, almost to herself. Sweeping her eyes back to Tom, she nodded slowly, as if coming to some revelation, a knowing look on her face. “You have been a very naughty boy in recent days, haven’t you Thomas?” she asked.

Resorting to his doe eyed innocent look, he shook his head, “Events are transpiring outside my ability to control,” he replied. “I’m human flotsam adrift on the sea of fate.”

“Indeed,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “The rakish Thomas Wentworth III A hapless pawn of circumstance?”

He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. It was worth a try, but the woman was an absolute rock. Unbending, unyielding no matter what tactic or strategy he employed. It was frustrating. He was used to flashing a little charm, add in a dash of wit and he usually got his way. Nothing worked on her.

“Cheeky,” she said flatly, shaking her head. “Always suave and quick with a trite response. Supercilious,” she assessed.

A shiver ran up the length of his spine.

“I think you would benefit greatly from the application of some order, discipline in your life to help you better appreciate those things you seemingly take for granted,” she commented, nodding to herself.

Discipline? He did not like the way she said that word, not at all. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach worsened.

Raising his hands, he was about to give voice to protest, but the look in her eyes halted him, frightened him some.

He could never remember seeing her smile before, and the one she wore now seemed almost predatory.

Nodding to herself again, she curled slender fingers around him, nails manicured but unadorned by any vibrant color. Lifting him out of the box, she held him fast, lost in apparent thought before she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her pale blouse. Using her free hand, she pulled out the left cup of her off white brassiere, exposing a smallish but nicely shaped pale firm breast with a tight cherry stained nipple standing erect, and slid him down over her flesh before letting the material come back and cradled him against her.

“Thomas can you hear me?” she asked, testing to see.

When he did not respond, she smiled to herself, the sensation of his little frame squirming under the weight of her bosom sending a delicious shiver through her as she re-fastened her buttons. Returning the shoe box to beneath Tess’s bed, she crossed the room and exited, locking the door behind her.