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I spent that weekend feeling increasingly more guilty. What had I done? Pussy was one thing, but sticking my dick in her ass? Sticking my tongue in her ass? Gross and probably illegal. No cell phones or email, so I couldn’t get in touch with Carol and find out she was okay or have her talk me off the ledge. I was afraid she would realize the next day what I had done and call the police. I went to school on Monday thinking they were going to haul me into the principal’s office or just take me away.

“Let me give you a ride, Jim. You don’t even need to change.” I said thanks and grabbed my stuff. I climbed into the passenger side. Mrs. B. was driving one of the massive cars of the day, a Delta 88 or something. She turned out of the school parking lot, turning away from the the way to my house. “I want to pick up something at my house first. Give you a chance to see where I live.”

“You can thank Shannon for that. She has some kind of miracle gift when it comes to teas and soups. I can’t explain it; she gets the flavoring exactly right every single time.” Sophia giggled and continued drinking. Down the hall, Shannon, who was doing her best not to eavesdrop, blushed and smiled with her ears twitching happily. “As for what you should do, I’d say you’re on the right path already. Like you said before, your literature program has no future without Cyrilo, or you for that matter, so if either of you are imprisoned or executed, your dream of changing the world dies. You truly can help people by bringing about the Age of Information. Don’t throw that away to alleviate your guilt.