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“Hot.”
“It really wasn’t.”
“So were you okay?”
“Mostly, yeah, just some minor tearing.”
“Minor tearing!”
“Fran, could you whisper? Please?”
“How big was this guy’s dick? It must have been huge.”
“It wasn’t…it’s not…” Cass was blushing. Actually blushing.
“Who is he? I’m begging you.” Maybe it should have been weird, talking about this with Cass after so many years. But somehow I felt as comfortable with him now as I had when we were teenagers.
He paused for a very long time. Somewhere outside, in the distance, I heard goddamn jingle bells. “She,” he said at last.
“She?”
He nodded. “If I tell you, do you promise to keep your voice down? When you…react?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
He closed his eyes for a second and sighed again. “I know I’m going to regret this, but…it was Ms. Cummings.”
“Ms. Cummings?” I repeated, bewildered. Then my eyes widened. “Ms.Cummings!”
“Fran! Shut up!” He glanced around to see if anyone had heard us. Heardme.
I forced myself back into whisper-mode with considerable effort. “Our geometry teacher?”
“Formergeometry teacher.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God, Cass.”
“It’s really not that big a deal. It was just a few weeks; I was in a rough place in my life—”
“Not that big a deal?” I had the urge to clap my hands between each word for emphasis. “Cass, you banged our Geometry teacher.”
“Former, yes, we had sex, please don’t repeat that to anyone.”
I started wheeze-laughing in my throat. “Oh-ho-ho-heh-heh-heh-hehhhh.”
“Fran—”
“Did she yell out the quadratic formula mid-coitus?”
“That’s algebra.”
“Did she make you find the hypotenuse of…anything?Herhypotenuse, I guess would have been the better joke. Did she make you find her hypotenuse?”
“No, and that is grossly inappropriate.” He was now redder than, I imagined, his Santa suit.
“What’s grossly inappropriate is that she’s like a hundred years old andour teacher.”
“Formerteacher, I cannot stress that part enough. And she was twenty-four when she was teaching us; she’s only forty-one now.”
