Blinking through his glasses, Kingston said primly: “You would stay where you’re obviously not wanted?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dallas said. “I guess a few people want me.”

Like a sixteen year old chick with the most fabulous cunt I ever got into, he thought; like this red haired little princess who gave me a blow job last night that melted my backbone so she could draw it out through the head of my prick.

Kathy Collins wants me, if nobody else does.

“You’re making this very difficult,” Kingston complained.

“I mean to make it difficult,” Dallas said. “Will that be all for now, Mr.

Kingston?”

“I suppose so,” the principal said. “But you’re going to find, that I can also be stubborn, Bradburn. I suggest you catch up on all your personal business, because I imagine that you will be very busy from now on-in your off time, that is. There are many little jobs that need doing around a school of this size.”

Dallas nodded. “Of course. But just remember that you have to keep me out of the public eye. The community may not like seeing a teacher with hair as long as his students.”

He heard a grunt behind him as he left the office, and the squeaking of the tall, chair as Kingston rocked to and fro in its leathered protection. Down the hall Dallas went, nodding to the football players heading for the gym, saying hi to kids that had never talked to him before.

Word got around school swiftly; everyone who was at all interested would soon know about his trip to Kingston’s office, and the reason why. The kids would back him-but how far? And was that what he really wanted, their approval, their identification? Maybe he was feeling old, and was somehow clutching at the young to keep himself n the mainstream of life instead of stagnating in its backwaters.

When he went downstairs and crossed the parking lot to his bug, she was sitting in the car next to it. “Hi, teach.”