"Did I say you could sit down, Mrs. Jones? I want you to stand rightin front of me at my desk." " Your desk?" sheprotested. "It's my desk, not yours....I'm your teacher, Lee, you can'ttalk to me like that." "Can't I?" Lee smiled. "You'd betterstand in front of the fucking desk or I'll see to it that full details of allyour criminal activities get released - not just to the school, either." She paused for a minute before tightening the screw a little. "How old is your daughter, Mrs. Jones? 14. “Up for another one?” she asked with a slight smile on her face. It was a little less “Mom” and a little more “friend.” “Sure,” I quickly said and got up asking my friend if he wanted one too. He passed because he had to be at work in the morning, so I headed off to the kitchen, grabbed the beers and took my seat…this time on the couch next to Mrs. J. She gave me another little smile when I brought her the beer, took a long drink, set down the bottle and almost absentmindedly reached for her. More

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