Page 16 of The Reverse Cinderella

He gave her an incredulous look then tossed Piaget his pen.

Piaget dropped it. She quickly scooped it back up.

“Mrs. Williems, is there a problem?” Mrs. Brown asked from the front of the room.

“I dropped my pen,” Piaget explained.

“Please do not disturb the class again.”

“No ma’am,” Piaget turned her attention to her test and began to answer the first question.

Today I came unprepared. I forgot my textbooks, my notes, my cue cards, even a pen to write this test with. I was barely on time. I expect I’ll continue to make mistakes, off air and on air. Everyone does. But this is my passion. I hear people on the radio, especially talk radio, discussing the news and important things that are happening in people’s lives. Everyone has a different opinion and radio is a freedom to express ourselves and to communicate what our community feels. What it embraces, what it rejects, where it wants to direct itself. Radio connects us…

“I can’t believe you forgot a pen,” Adam walked with her through the hall after the class was over.

“That’s not all I forgot. No textbooks, no laptop, no money. I even forgot my bus pass. All I have is my keys,” Piaget jangled them for effect before putting them back into her pocket. “I’m amazed I made it on time.”

“What happened?”

“Max happened.”

Adam paused for a moment. “Anything I should know about? You two kids used protection, right?”

Piaget blushed and swatted him on the arm. “Nothing like that! We studied for the test late last night and he left. I was really tired and I kept hitting the snooze button this morning because I was dreaming about him.”

“Dirty dreams?” Adam suggested.

“Go away Adam,” Piaget rolled her eyes.

“You’ve got it bad,” he was absolutely gleeful. “I’m such a good matchmaker.”

She stopped walking. “Is there even a point to me going to my other classes? All I’ve got is your pen. Do you want it back?”

“Nope. It’s yours, I’ve got others,” Adam waggled his eyebrows. “It’s infected with Max cooties now anyways.”

Piaget put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “Really? Have we sunk to that juvenile low?”

“Yup,” he replied serenely. “Seriously though, how are you going to get back to your apartment? That’s a long walk without a bus pass.”

Piaget sighed. She had no money. “There’s nothing else I can do but walk.”

“I’ve got a twenty if you want to borrow cab fare,” Adam offered.

“No. I think I need to exercise. Plus, the café is on the way. Maybe I’ll drop in early and see if I can get a few extra hours.”

“Okay, have fun. And sweet dreams of Max tonight.”

Piaget shook her head and started the long trek to the café. It was nice weather, but her feet were sore by the time she got there. Piaget grabbed a tea and muffin then sat down, putting her feet up on a chair. The café was quiet so Dix joined her.

“What does it mean if you barely kiss a guy then you dream all night about jumping him?”

Dix raised a pierced eyebrow. “You think that just because I have two psychiatrists for parents that I’ll be able to analyze that messed up mind of yours for free.”

“Maybe.”

“It means you’re a red-blooded woman with needs and he’s sexy enough to flame your fire,” Dix took a sip of a strawberry smoothie through a straw. “Max is hot. For an old guy.”

“Thanks,” Piaget said wryly. Max couldn’t be very much older than her.