Melissa furrowed her brow. She'd grown used to the idea that this was a former student, or even a friend of a former student who had sat in on one of her classes and had a teacher fantasy. Or a mommy fantasy. She'd never had kids herself, and never would now, but she was pretty okay with acting the role of mother if it meant she got some good sex out of it. God, how long had it been? She wasn't sure, but was shocked when Brandon leaned close to her and whispered, "three years" into her ear.

"Three years ..." She pulled back and examined his expression. "No. Shut up."

"Three years, Melissa. You should get out more. And if you want, I have a bike --"

"A motorcycle?" she asked, eyes beaming.

He nodded slowly. "I have a bike out back, and you can ride with me, and we can go to your place. We can have fun all night long. And maybe you'll think midlife isn't something to be afraid of. It's not a crisis, either, like so many people make it out to be. Maybe a slump, where people lose their way, but it's possible to get back on track. And embrace what you've always wanted. You're not dead. You won't be dead for some time. You won't even feel old for some time, thanks to the era you live in and the advances of medicine. But you need to act grateful. You need to act as if you deserve all of these things, praise and adulation, as well as the simple feeling of being alive."

Each word had made Brandon step closer to her. Melissa had backed up at first, but the soft metal of the lockers were now a boon. She didn't want to get away. She wanted to feel his hot breath against her cheeks, his hands over her body, and she wanted to ride that bike to her house. So what if this was a strange long-con by a former student? She could do this now. She was retired. The school couldn't touch her.

"It's a bit goofy, though," Melissa said, leaning close to Brandon and meeting his lips. "You can just say you want to fuck me. You don't need this weird seduction game."

"Mmm." Brandon kissed her once, then pulled back. A tease. A downright, mean-spirited tease. "This is not a game."

"Be serious." Melissa pushed him aside now. "I can't have sex with you if you're not serious."

"I am." Brandon took several steps back and shrugged his shoulders. "That's the sad part. Even you can't have fun."

"I can have fun. I just prefer honesty. Integrity. Compassion and --" She stopped when she realized she was listing the slogan for the school. She pressed her face into her hand, wondering how she'd gotten so far from her own internal compass, and then shuddered.

"Melissa?"

Carl's voice. He was calling to her from down the hallway, a tinge of concern in his voice. Melissa stood up straight, no longer pressed against the side of the lockers, and looked for Brandon.

He was gone. Nowhere down the hallway from which he came, not even in the stairwell. She furrowed her brows, but soon met Carl's concerned face as he came closer to her. "You all right? You seemed to leave in a hurry."

"I'm fine. Just feeling a little ill." She touched her stomach and felt it flip. She grabbed the side of a locker and Carl held onto her arm.

"You should take a cab," he insisted. "It's on us."

"Only half," Melissa murmured, but soon nodded. She looked down the hallway once again where Brandon, her strange incubus demon, had been. It was empty. Like it probably always had been. "You know, a cab might be for the best. I think I really did drink too much after all."