"Is that all baby?" Bette said looking at me.

"That’s everything I remember," I responded.

Bette looked over to Shane, silently asking the same question and she answered, "yes, that’s everything Jenny ever told me about him."

"Carlos?" Bette said looking over to the young sketch artist who was buried in his sketch book.

Luckily a lot of students cared about Bette back when she was a Dean and they kept in contact. Bette assured me that no one was a better sketch artist than Carlos.

"Done," Carlos said turning his sketch book around, "is that him?"

"Wow,"I seethed hatefully, "other than the eyebrows, it looks exactly like him!"

"Thicker?" Carlos asked.

I nodded my head and corrected the mistake. When he showed us again I felt a deep anger surging through my body again. It looked exactly like him and everything in body was yearning to choke the mother fucker.

Bette’s hand on my knee calmed me down and she gave me a small smile.

God, how did she do that? How did she know how I was feeling without me having to say a word? How did she make all else disappear with just a simple touch.

"Thanks so much for your help, Carlos," Bette said smiling that gorgeous Porter smile.
Oh God I just wanna kiss her!

"No problem Dean Porter," Carlos said leaving the picture on the table and standing up.

"It’s Bette," Bette said standing up to walk him to the door. After a soft hug, Carlos left and Bette resumed her seat.

I moved to the couch she was on, grabbed her face tenderly and pulled her in for a kiss.

Bette reacted to the kiss immediately and we didn’t break apart until we heard Shane’s small chuckle, "so fucking cute."

I pouted deeply at the loss of the kiss and sat back on the couch as Bette straightened her back and said, "sorry Shane."

"Don’t have to apologize," Shane said with a shrug, "it’s not like I haven’t seen worse."

I couldn’t help but laugh, and I loved that warm feeling I felt when I laughed.

"Jesus, sorry about that too," Bette said flushing in embarrassment.