Teach a Teacher a Lesson

Rita stood outside the classroom door, staring at the handle, trying to find the courage to face her senior students for the first time.

She had been touring the school for an hour, and Principal Jones introduced her to the other members of the faculty, as well. Her first class today was at eleven, so they had plenty of time for a tour. He then escorted her to the classroom, wished her good luck and left. She watched him go with trepidation, and for the last few minutes she stood there, wishing she could run away.

She glanced at her watch and seeing that she was already late, she straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and opened the door. All eyes were on her the second she stepped inside. Some students were still standing and talking, but most sat down immediately. She drew another deep breath to calm her nerves and walked decisively to her seat. She placed her bag on the desk and turned to face her students. Her gaze roamed the large classroom, getting accustomed to her new surroundings. She took in the vivid charts and posters on the walls, the uncovered windows that allowed blinding beams of light in, and then row after row of desks seating children with curious eyes. She saw Ben's familiar friendly face on the second row and immediately felt calmer.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," she said. She gave a timid smile. "Take your seats, please."

Luckily, everybody followed her instruction. She let out a tiny sigh of relief. You can do this, she reminded herself.

"My name is Miss Rita Evans, and I am your history teacher for this year. Now, if you could all state your names for me, please!"

One by one, the students gave her their names, which she noted down on a piece of paper, making a seating plan. She then opened her bag and took her history book out.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a girl's voice sounded.

Rita looked up and saw a girl with her hand raised. "Yes?" she replied.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, Mary," she replied, after checking her seating plan.

"Is this your first time teaching?" the girl asked.

Rita gulped. Her panic rose to extreme levels again. How should she answer? If she said yes to that, the students would probably eat her alive afterwards. She would lose every inch of control over them. What if she said no, then, and she made a terrible mistake during the lesson? Wouldn't they realize that she had been lying?

For a long moment, she stared at the girl unable to speak. Fearing that the class would see her hesitation and become restless, she decided to answer the question truthfully and deal with whatever reaction her answer brought about. At some point, she would have to get tough if she was to continue this job.

"Yes, this is my first time teaching," she said in as much an authoritative tone of voice as she could muster.

"How old are you, then? You look so young," said another girl.

Rita hesitated for a moment again.

"I am twenty-five," she replied. "Now, if you all please open your books."

She was about to take her seat at her desk when she heard a boy's voice from somewhere at the back. "Wow, young and hot!"

Everyone laughed. She faced her class with a determined look in her eyes.

"Who said that?" she asked, staring them all down. Everyone went quiet.

"I will not allow this kind of language in my classroom. Do you hear me?" she used her most stern voice. "Now, open your books. Page six."

She was proud of herself seeing how they all obeyed in an instant. If she was firm with them, she would be fine. She would not allow them to get the upper hand with her. Certainly, not from day one! She would not be able to work with them this school year, otherwise.

She took her seat, opened her book, and read the first chapter aloud. She often stole glances under her eyelashes to see if everyone was behaving. Surprisingly enough, they all kept quiet and listened to her. The students gradually participated more in the lesson, answering her questions or asking her to elaborate more on certain issues.

At the end of the period, Rita was immensely pleased with herself. She had managed to explain quite a large chunk of the first chapter and, most importantly, keep the students in order. The children seemed to like her, as well. They had even laughed with some of the jokes she made on the historical figures they were studying, and they found her way of teaching interesting and easy enough to follow. Her decision not to assign any homework for their next lesson was greeted with cheers.

When all the pupils had departed, she sat back on her chair and exhaled deeply. She was relieved. A huge burden was off her shoulders. She had managed to do everything right. She gave herself an imaginary congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

She heard the door opening again and turned to see who it was. Sam Roberts entered the classroom. He stood by the door and stared at her.

"Yes, Sam? Did you forget something?"

Sam hesitated at first, but then he strode and stood in front of her desk.

"No, Miss Evans," he said. "I didn't forget anything. I just wanted to tell you something."

"Oh, okay, then, I'm listening. What is it, Sam? Do you have any questions on what we discussed today?"

"Eh, no, I..." Sam stammered for a second. He seemed uncertain of what he wanted to say. He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck a few times. "Yes?" she prompted.

"I just wanted to tell you that you are very..." He paused again. He drew a deep breath and went on. "You are very nice, and I like you!"

Rita sent him a dazzling smile. "I like you, too, Sam! I think you are a very bright student and I'm sure you will have good grades this year if you work hard." "No, I..."

She interrupted him. "Now, if you excuse me, I must get ready for my next class. See you tomorrow, Sam!" She picked up her bag and hurried out of the room.

Sam watched the way her hips swayed with every step she took. He was fascinated by this beautiful woman. He had never met anyone like her before. She was brilliant and, of course, she had the most breathtaking body he had ever seen. Not even cover models could beat her looks.

"I meant to say I really like you," he said, once the door had closed behind her.

***

Rita spent the entire morning going from one classroom to the other and getting acquainted with all her new students and colleagues. Every minute that ticked by, she relaxed more in her new environment, and her confidence as a teacher grew. By the end of her first day at work, she was certain she was cut out for this job. Her colleagues found her agreeable enough to want to spend recesses talking to her, and her students were obviously enthused with her teaching style. Proud of herself, she stepped, grinning, out of the school building. She walked toward her parked car, fumbling in her handbag on the way for her keys.

Sam and Ben were standing a few meters away beside Sam's Ford, talking to some other boys. Rita saw them watching her and smiled politely as she moved on to her own car. She unlocked the door and slipped inside. She changed her high heels into her trainers and turned the ignition. All she received was an empty click. The car wouldn't start. She tried again. No reaction. She checked her fuel gauge, and it read half-full, so an empty gas tank wasn't the problem. She tried again, but still nothing. Unsure of what to do, she got out of the car and looked around her.

Sam left Ben and the others and hurried to her side.

"Is anything wrong, Miss Evans?" he asked.

"Eh, I can't get my car to start, Sam," she replied.

"Would you mind if I have a look? I'm good with cars," he offered.

"Please, do! I don't have a clue about them, except for knowing how to drive one, that is."

Her mind reeled with options, trying to figure out how she would get home. There weren't many cars left on the parking lot; most of the other teachers must have gone by now. She was sure she had seen a bus stop somewhere near the school, but she didn't know if there was a bus coming any time soon. She was thinking of going back inside to call a garage to come and rescue her, when Sam spoke.

"It's your battery. It's dead. You have a very old car, Miss Evans. You should consider changing it."

"Yes, yes, I know!" she replied. She clenched her fists and kicked the front wheel, frustrated. "Damn, what am I going to do now?" Realizing that a student was beside her, she added, "I'm sorry, Sam. Pardon my language."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Miss. I can't help you right now because I don't have any wires to charge your battery, but I can bring some tomorrow morning and fix this for you."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you! You're very kind. But how am I going to get back home now?"

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"I can always drive you," Sam offered, and beamed at her.

Rita's reply was interrupted by Christopher showing up. "What's wrong, Rita?" he asked, moving right next to her.

"The car won't start, and Sam says it's the battery, but he doesn't have a way to fix it, so I'm stuck here," she replied, annoyed.

"Hmmm, I can't help you with that either, but I'll drive you home. Come on, get your things and let's go."

"I offered to drive her home first!" Sam interjected, looking straight at his principal.

Christopher snorted and flung the boy a steely cold glare. Sam had no choice but to back down, defeated. Rita grabbed her bag from the passenger's seat, locked her car and after thanking Sam for trying to fix her car, she followed Chris to his Volkswagen.

They drove off with Sam still standing by her car watching them go.

"She's mine, you old fool!" he breathed angrily.

***

"Do you mind if I roll down the window a bit?" Rita asked Chris after a while.

"Not at all," Chris replied.

Rita laid her head back on her seat and enjoyed the fresh cool breeze coming from the window. From the corner of her eye, she was watching him as he drove. Frequently, she saw him glancing her way.

A strand of hair worked loose from her ponytail and fell on her face. Before she reached for it, Chris stretched his hand and tucked it behind her ear, all the while caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. A shiver ran down her spine from his soft, warm touch.

"Thank you!" she said, once he had removed his hand.

"You have such beautiful hair, Rita," he replied, before turning his attention back to the road.

"Thank you!" she repeated, her cheeks reddening.

She found this man maddeningly attractive. A single touch from him and goose bumps covered her whole body. And the way he kept looking at her?

Certainly, it wasn't passion what she saw in his eyes. Not for her! She was a timid young teacher and he... he was everything... handsome, intelligent, successful... Certainly, she was no match for him. He couldn't possibly be feeling anything for her and most of all, passion. No way.

His husky voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Sorry, what was that?" she asked, missing what he had just said.

"I asked where exactly you live. Where are we going?" he said, amused by her obvious daydreaming.

"Oh, I am renting an apartment a few blocks away from here. Keep going straight and I'll let you know when we get there."

Chris nodded and for a while he focused on the road again.

Rita took this moment of silence to examine his car. It suited him. It was classy and yet modern, exactly like him. Both the exterior and interior were in a lustrous black, and there was a strong smell of new leather. She took a deep breath. Combined with his intoxicating cologne, it was a delicious scent. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply again. It made her dizzy, as though she had been drugged, but she loved the feeling. This was his smell. All male and drawing her even more to him.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" he asked.

She opened her eyes to face him. "No, not at all," she whispered, still affected by his scent and nearness.

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He chose a radio station airing old rock songs. She liked rock music herself and she could definitely picture him as a tough youth, dressed all in black leather and following rock band after rock band around. She couldn't help wondering if he even had a tattoo etched somewhere, perhaps the name of an old girlfriend.

Chris hummed, and his deep baritone voice undid her again. Every note coming from his mouth resonated low in her belly, kindling a fire inside her. Her lustful thoughts were intensified every second she spent in his presence. How could he make her feel so strongly?

Listening to his sexy voice, she let her eyes close and her mind drift. An image of him and herself naked in his arms popped in her mind. His hands were stroking and palming her bare back. He was using his fingertips to tease her skin, making her shiver with pleasure. He ran his hands into her cascading hair, and she threw her head back, giving him more access. He licked her neck long and slow. She could feel his hot breath scorching her skin. He kissed the pulse spot under her ear and she shivered. He did it again and she let out a soft moan. Her pulse was racing. He moved to her neck kissing, licking... then on to her shoulders, feather kissing her arms...

Chris dropped his hands to her waist bringing her body closer to his. Her belly was against his. She could feel the taut skin of his perfect abs. Her hot and sweaty skin sticking to his...

He tightened the hold in her back, and she looked awed into his eyes. He craved her. Fire burned between her legs. He took her mouth into a passionate, hungry kiss. Her breathing became deeper, heavier...

"Are you okay?" Chris asked and gently tapped her hand.

She immediately snapped out of her fantasy. "What? What?" she asked in panic.

"Are you okay? You are hyperventilating. Are you getting dizzy with my driving? Should I slow down?" he asked her worriedly.

Trying to hide her embarrassment for having a sex fantasy in broad daylight, she drew a breath to steady her thumping heart and lied to him.

"Yes, please, slow down. I always get dizzy when I'm not the one driving."

Chris nodded and followed her request at once, and she rolled the window down a bit more to let the air cool her flushed face.

In a matter of minutes, they drew nearer her house, and after she pointed out which building her apartment was in, Chris found a parking spot and pulled over. He got out, circled the front of his car, and opened the passenger's door for her. A gentleman's gesture, she thought, and smiled at him.

He closed the door behind her and walked her to her building.

"Thank you for bringing me home, Mr. Jones!" she said.

"Rita," he started, getting hold of her hand, "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Christopher?"

He lightly stroked her skin with his fingers. She blushed again.

"Thank you, Christopher!"

"I'll come by tomorrow morning to pick you up," he said.

"That's not necessary. I'll take the bus."

"I wasn't asking, Rita. I'll be here at 7.30," he said, in a tone that compelled her to agree.

"Okay, I'll be ready. Thank you!"

He brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss above her knuckles. She relished the feeling of his lips on her skin.

"See you tomorrow, then," he said and walked away.

Rita stood there mesmerized, holding the hand he had kissed close to her heart.