Chapter 1

“He really does work hard for your course. We just don’t know what to do anymore.” A pair of eyes, tired but resolute, peered up at me. Mrs. Wilson sat across from me, her son Jason’s progress report on the desk between us. I couldn’t help but feel empathy for the single mother of two of my students. Both her son Jason and her daughter Jessy were in my class. But while Jessy was one of my best students, Jason had barely passed last year. A feat he didn’t seem likely to repeat this year, given his current grades.

“It isn’t really fair. His sister gets by so easily, just because she’s more talented. And Jason can’t pass, no matter what he does. I mean, shouldn’t hard work count for something?”

I nodded in sympathy. I knew from experience that the perception of a parent didn’t always match the reality, and Jason didn’t really strike me as a hardworking kid. I liked him however. He had a lot of charisma, was easygoing both in his relations with his fellow students as with his teachers and had a killer smile. On top of that he had his good looks. One of his parents was Greek, and Jason’s appearance made it clear why the ancient Greeks were such a fan of boy love. At 16, he was well into his growth spurt, developing into a very handsome young man. I know, those are all characteristics that shouldn’t matter to a teacher, but they do.

“I understand your frustration. Now, if you say he works very hard, the problem must be that he’s working the wrong way. Students should pay attention to the structure of the subject. It’s the only way to see the connection between the different parts and to really understand the matter.”

A little bit later we parted, me feeling that she wasn’t completely satisfied, but there were still a lot of other parents who wanted to talk to me. It’s not the first time I don’t come to a mutual agreement with a parent, but at the end of the evening the conversation with Jason’s mother was still kind of nagging in my head. Not so much that I lost any sleep over it, but it did bother me.

The next day I decided I wanted to be sure about Jason’s efforts for school. And if the problem really was that he was working hard in the wrong way, I could see what he did wrong exactly and try to remedy that. During recess I went looking for him. When I spotted him, I signaled him to come to me, which he did with a questioning look, thinking he did something wrong. Why else would a teacher want to talk to you?

“Jason, I suppose you know that I’ve spoken your mother yesterday?” I asked after he had reached me.

“Yes, sir,” Jason replied hesitantly.

“She tells me you’re actually a hard worker...”

“It’s true,” he interrupted me.

I stopped him from continuing, as I didn’t want to go in a discussion on whether or not he was working enough.

“I believe you’ve got a big test next Thursday?”

Jason nodded.

“How about you come study for like an hour after classes in my class room. Just the way you would do if you were at home. That way I can see what exactly you are doing. After that hour I’ll check what you’ve studied by then. Based on those results, we can then see where you may need some pointers.”

Shrugging, he replied, “Sure, I’m willing to do anything to help my grade.”

“Ok then. I’ll see you Wednesday at 12. Don’t forget to bring your notes.”

That Wednesday I made sure I had a sufficient amount of grading work with me to school. Just as we had arranged, when Jason arrived, I had him start his work while I graded the tests of another class. Even just by observing once in a while what he was doing I could tell he wasn’t using his time optimally. But, since his mother assured me he always knew his stuff when she quizzed him, I didn’t interrupt what he was doing. I wanted to know what “knowing his stuff” really meant. So both of us continued working for a whole hour without talking.

After that, I briefly tested him on what he had learned, which wasn’t all that much. Soon enough it became very clear that what he thought was studieing, was more a waste of time, and I told him so. I added a few pointers to improve his method, and it didn’t take long for Jason to understand that it would actually take a lot of real work if he really wanted to know his stuff.

“Oh, come on! Is there really no better way to pass a test?”

“Hey, I never said it would come easy.”

“Well, yeah, sure, but this? I mean, shit ... Sorry. But still, I’d do anything else.”

“What do you mean, you’d do anything?”

“Well, anything. I’ll never be able to keep this up, so there’s got to be something else I can do.”

Jokingly I retorted, “So you would like, get naked or something, just so you wouldn’t have to work for your grades?”

Jason looked shocked at first, but then, after a few seconds, he grinned and said, ““Sure, at least that ain’t hard to do.”

I paused at that point. I didn’t start this to get some extra benefit out of it (I know, none of you will believe me here), but this could be a nice opportunity. A nice risk as well though. The experiences of last year however, had made me more of a risk-taker.

“Okay, go for it.”

“Really?” Jason clearly hadn’t expected me to actually challenge him. He looked surprised and a bit uncomfortable.

“See, there’s no alternative but studying.”

“Wait, wait, are you saying that I’d pass the test just for getting naked?”

“Does it matter what I’m saying? I know you won’t do it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I see what I see: you tell me you’d do anything, but it’s just like every student who tells me they are willing to work hard. No one is actually willing to put their words into action.”

This would be the moment of truth. Either he’d take the challenge or he’d think I was just telling him that he’d just have to do the work without any alternative. For a short moment he looked at me with his head tilted, assessing my intentions. My guess is that he thought I wouldn’t go through with it, which would make it safe for him to make his point. Something I know few teenagers can resist.

Expecting me to put an end to it sooner than later, Jason stood up and slowly started lifting his shirt over his head, revealing a smooth chest with just a hint of definition and two light brown nipples. I put on a poker face so I wouldn’t give away my intentions just yet, and just looked him in the eye. One after the other, Jason kicked of his sneakers. He hesitated briefly before, even slower than before, he let his hands wander to the button of his jeans. Fumbled with it, let it pop open. Opened his zipper. Hesitated again. Finally, still looking at me, he lowered his jeans and stepped out of them.

He definitely was a good looking guy. Standing before me in just his black briefs, Jason covered the central part of his body with his hands, waiting. At this point, he clearly wanted me to put an end to all this, hoping I’d be the one to give in first. He still wanted to make his point, without actually having to go through with it. Of course I had no intention at all of letting him of the hook that easily.

“So, you always quit when it gets hard?” I teased him.

I saw a blush spread across his cheeks as he tried to decide whether I was still serious or not. His eyes scanned mine, looking for any sign I didn’t actually expect him to do this.