“But what if they catch us?” My throat was dry and voice trembled as I spoke.

“We won’t get caught,” The Face replied, big blue eyes staring back intensely. Her tiny pearl teeth were perfectly white when she smiled; her tight red curls and freckles gave her the innocent little girl look. That made her all the more dangerous. And all the more attractive. Like the moth to the flame, I was entranced. “We’re smarter than they are. Besides, what would be worse than what we have now?”

She was right, of course. Our lives were already restricted, every moment and movement prescribed. Our meeting only worked through the convenience of being in the same place at the same time each day; our rendezvous hidden in the plain site of a group. I carefully glanced around—the others were occupied with their tasks and didn’t seem to pay attention. For the moment, it was just me and The Face.

She slid closer and whispered in my ear. “You and me. Together. We can have what we want. You just have to distract Her.”

Distracting Her. Not an easy thing. I couldn’t remember a time without Her controlling everything. She was like a helicopter, forever hovering. At first, the attention was reassuring, comforting. Then it became smothering. But this new girl, The Face…she made me feel ways I’d never felt before. Sneaky. Daring. Alive. I was in, no matter the risk.

“OK, how do we do this?” I asked.

“I don’t want to tell you want to do. But since you are asking.” I listened as she quietly laid out the plan. It was a good one. And most of all, at the end, she and I would share it all, together. I nodded, then smiled. I could do this. “It all depends on you, Sam. How badly do you want it?” She cocked her head slightly; those white pearls biting down on her blood-red bottom lip made me hungry.

“I’ll do it. Tonight.” My heart beat faster than an express train at full speed.

“I knew you could. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she smiled that smile and walked toward the door. Alone. I was committed. Me. Her. Tomorrow.

Back home, I played my time as I always did. With one exception. After dinner, I discreetly grabbed a small brown paper bag, then carefully dropped the objects into it. I quietly crossed the room and stuffed the bag into the sleeve of my jacket. Tomorrow, I would carry the jacket on my lap, no matter how cold it was. It was okay, The Face’s smile would keep me warm.

I arrived at my desk at 7:30 a.m. She was already seated at hers, working furiously. I noisily pulled out my chair and plopped into my seat. She was the only one who didn’t look up. So I brushed my arm across my desk, knocking a book to the floor with a thud.

She looked in my direction from her desk across the room, then back down at her work. As I bent to retrieve the book, I found a folded piece of paper with my name on the outside.

“Meet me after,” was all the note said. No signature was needed. I knew it was from her and what she meant. The end of the day, outside the building, out back. The place and time she and I often stole a moment for ourselves. 

For the remainder of the day, I busied myself in mathematical calculations. But other numbers kept bouncing in my head. Two people. One special moment. Fifteen minutes together. Four hours until the end of the day.

Finally, the day was over and I made my way out back. She was there, in a pretty red and white polka dot dress and black flats. The light shone from behind, making my angel seem to glow. I handed over the brown paper bag. She peered inside, then smiled. “See, I told you.” Then…a shrill sound ripped the smiles from our faces.

“Samuel,” called The Voice I hoped not to hear. The Face looked at me. We were made.

“Sammy, I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?” Then The Voice saw The Face. “Oh,” Her smile widened but eyes squinted at the same time. She licked her teeth with the edge of her tongue. “Who have we here?” had an emphasis that was both sickly sweet and accusatory. “Oh that’s nice. I see you have a little girlfriend.” Complete silence.

The Voice bent over and looked The Face in the eyes. “Hi, I’m Sammy’s mommy. Who are you?”

“Gretchen,” was all she gave up.  

“I don’t think I know you, Gretchen. Or your parents. Are you in Samuel’s class?”

“Yes.” She stayed tight lipped, revealing nothing more. That’s my gal. Nerves of steel.

“So I guess you are seven, also. You do have good taste in clothing.” Then standing back up, The Voice spoke again. “Well I am sure that her Mommy or the bus she takes home will be fine for her. We need to go now,” and The Voice grabbed at my hand. I tried to pull away but she pulled me to Her faster pace, walking toward the car.

I looked back. The Face had already sashayed over to Josh, our oversized class bully. She reached in the brown bag, pulled the big cookie, MY big cookie, and handed it to him. Another reach produced one for her. They ate them together and laughed. Then The Face tossed the bag on the ground and mashed it with her shiny patent leather shoe before climbing the stairs into the bus with him. My stomach rumbled sadly.

I turned back and we were at the car. The Voice broke the silence. “And young man, you and your father will have a discussion about taking things meant for others. Like the special cookies meant for the church sale.”  

Dames. They’re nothin’ but trouble.

By day, Gary Zenker is a marketing professional, banging out plans for B2B and B2C clients, and writing copy for nearly every media that exists or is likely to exist. By night, he takes the lessons of human behavior and crafts them into flash fiction stories. He founded and continues to run two writers groups which help local authors better their craft and reach their publishing goals. His own stories have been featured in over a dozen online publications and print anthologies, including Chicken Soup For The Soul: Humor. He also authored two books with his young son, and published two collections featuring members of his writers group, as well as over 25 Rock and Roll Archive volumes.