Chapter 11: Remedial Class

I was happy for her to land the job, and it wasn’t even much of a surprise. She had certainly been the better student and her marks reflected that. I did fine but I probably was never really in contention.

I loved her passionately, but that one piece of bitterness fostered itself among the resentment and ignominy of being forced to work in my old high school. I didn’t really mind the job too much but a lot of these kids were never going to take anything from what I had to offer.

I committed most of my efforts to the few diamonds and went through the motions with the rest. I did however have to put up with several remedial students who required a lot of effort just to pass. One in particular irritated me no-end. I think he probably bore my ire mostly from my existing resentments though.

Gideon wasn’t especially stupid, he just did not seem to care whatsoever about the subject or passing. This wasn’t unusual, many students have subjects they hate. Often, as soon as the chance comes they will drop those subjects and take up something that interests them more.

However it reflected poorly on me if I allowed them to slip as much as he had. I still harboured the faint hope of one day working with Chantelle in her fancy well funded private school. This meant I could not let this oafish slug hurt my record.

The irony was that I probably was genuinely able to make more of a difference where I already was. Teaching this oaf could well have been the greater net positive. I wasn’t sympathetic however, when perhaps I should have been.

I held him back to redo lazy work and made him re-take every test in his own time. It quickly became known that he was the class dullard. When I couldn’t get through to him I would punish him with tasks like cleaning the classroom or sorting the storage room out.

There was a resource room at the rear of the class that was always a clutter. Ironically I had fond memories of that particular room. It happened to be the very same one Matt and I used to fuck in all those years ago. I even found the stain from where all Matt’s spunk used to drip out.

I had masturbated to that stain when I first found it. I vividly recalled having my ass on that corner bench, legs splayed out to the shelves either side. Matt would have just grunted his load into me and inevitably when he withdrew his cock a couple of splashes would occur. I marveled at how large the stain had been. It had to be years worth of come.

However nothing seemed to work with this clown. At seventeen he knew he did not have to take this class after this year despite being held back. I doubt he cared about the grade in the slightest. Still I persisted despite losing my lunch hours to supervising the uncooperative lump.

I was resigned to having him as a blemish on my transcript when halfway through the year I inadvertently found a way to reach him. He did end up passing comfortably and taking my class again the following year, unfortunately it wasn’t really a result of my teaching skills.