Spring 1985

Sean Kent paused his comment on the Presidential Election of 1860 in mid-sentence, his voice having been drowned out by the echo of the class bell. He knew it was pointless to continue once it ceased as, the period having been declared over, most of his students were already gathering up their things to head off to their next class.

“I guess that’s it for today,” the twenty-five-year-old high school teacher said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the din of shuffling chairs. “But remember, we’re having a test on chapters 11 and 12 on Monday, so be sure to spend at least some of your weekend going over your notes.”

‘That is if any of you actually bothered to take any,’ Sean added to himself noting that some of his students were already out the door. No matter, he thought, he’d made the same announcement at the beginning of class as well.

Despite the disinterest of many of his charges in the history of their country, Sean did love being a teacher. It was what he’d wanted to be since he sat in a classroom nearly identical to this one. A number of advanced placement classes during those years gave him a head start in college, one that allowed him to not only get his degree in four years, but also the certifications he needed to teach sooner than expected.

Sitting back down at his desk, Sean slipped the sheaf of notes on the top of it back into their folder and then dropped the entire packet into the top drawer. He had a free period before his next class and, since he’d been a bit late this morning, he wanted to get a cup of coffee to make up for the one missed earlier.

He had just locked the desk when he realized that someone was standing in front of it. Looking up, he was surprised to see Carrie Adams and Margaret Pierce, two of his more problematic students. Normally they were one of the first ones out the door.

As a public school, Northwood High didn’t require a uniform, but it did have a dress code. That said, however, it was clear that, while their attire technically conformed to its stipulations, the two teenagers liked to stretch the limits of that code as far as they could. That was especially true for Carrie, who was not only wearing a blouse a size too small for her bust, but also had more open buttons on it than might be considered appropriate.

“Can I help you ladies?” Sean asked.

“I hope so, Mr. Kent,” Carrie said, taking the lead while Margaret just stood there with a nervous smile. “I ... I mean we, we were hoping we could ask you a question about Monday’s exam?”

“Sure, ask away,” Sean said.

“Well, we were sort of wondering what was going to be on it,” the eighteen-year-old stated.

“Just what I said, chapters 11 and 12,” Sean replied, thinking that he’d made that clear to anyone who was paying even half attention to what was going on in class.

“No, we heard that part,” Carrie said as, taking a deep breath, she caused her chest to expand even more, exposing the edge of a black lace bra under her shirt. “We were hoping that you could give us a few examples of some of the questions?”

‘Oh, you were?’ Sean thought, even as he shifted his gaze from the curvaceous blonde to the more modestly dressed brunette to her left. Modest in that, despite her blouse being equally taut, all but two of her buttons were fastened. As she’d yet to say a word, the teacher wondered how much of the ‘we’ she was really part of?

“I’m afraid that I really can’t do that, Carrie,” he said as he made sure that he locked his eyes on her face and not the exposed cleavage six inches below. “It wouldn’t be fair to the other students.”

“Mr. Jensen used to always give us a few hints and I thought that...” she started to say, only to have him interrupt her.

“I’m not Mr. Jensen,” he simply said, referring to the teacher he’d replaced midterm.

“But two chapters, that’s almost sixty pages,” Carrie pointed out as if he’d been unaware of their length. “That’s a lot of reading.”

“Not if you’ve been doing the daily assignments and taking notes,” Sean countered, willing to bet that she hadn’t done either.

Carrie let out a small, disappointed sigh, one that seemed as calculated as the deep breath that had preceded it. She took a half step closer, resting her hands on the edge of his desk, just enough of a shift in position to make him aware of the perfume she was wearing, a scent that seemed much too expensive for a high school student.

“Are you really sure you couldn’t give us just a clue or two, Mr. Kent?” she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I’d be so appreciative.”

Carrie then leaned further forward, resting her breasts on his desk as she brushed her fingers against his hand, adding that most people enjoy her appreciation.

Shifting his head just a bit, Sean could see Margaret fidgeting uncomfortably, clutching her textbooks tighter as her face flushed. A reaction that reinforced his suspicion that this had been Carrie’s idea, not hers.

“Just read the chapters and I’m sure both of you will do fine,” Sean said, adjusting his own stance as he picked up an old memorandum that had been sitting on his desk, pretending as if it was the first time he’d seen it.

“Come on, Carrie, let’s go,” Margaret said, speaking for the first time, her tone indicating that she was leaving even if her friend wasn’t.

Glancing over the top of the paper in his hand, Sean suspected that Carrie wanted to say something else, but instead simply flashed a look of disappointment before following Margaret toward the exit. Sean didn’t know the girl well, but he got the impression that she wasn’t used to being told no by people, teachers included.

“I can’t believe I’m going to have to waste the whole fuck’n weekend reading a boring ass history book,” Sean heard Carrie say to Margaret just before they passed through the doorway. A comment that brought a small smile to his face.

Leaning back in his chair, Sean closed his eyes as he drew in the last remnants of Carrie’s perfume lingering in the air. The teenage temptress had no idea how much of an effect she’d had on him as, thankfully, the desk between them had obscured the erection that would’ve been clearly visible in his pants. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to wonder what it might be like to have the buxom eighteen-year-old on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock. From some of the stories he’d heard about her around the school, he imagined it would’ve felt quite spectacular.

But a few moments were all he allowed himself as he banished the thought from his mind, reminding himself that that was a line he would never cross. His erection, however, wasn’t as easy to dismiss, and he had to wait a few minutes more before he could venture out into more public spaces without drawing potentially embarrassing attention.

‘It’s been a while since I had a boner in class,’ he thought as he waited for it to dissipate, not considering that bringing up past memories might not be the best way to speed up that process.

It had indeed been a while, in fact, he would’ve had to go back almost seven years for the last time, back when he’d sat in one of those seats in front of him. It hadn’t been a fellow student getting him hard in those days, but the woman standing in front of the room; one twice his age. He’d been in her class three times, and what had started as a pubescent crush in freshman year had grown to outright infatuation by his senior. One that had brought with it numerous sexual fantasies. Of course, fantasies were all they’d been, and he’d never done anything about them outside the solitude of his bedroom at night.

Eventually, however, things did settle down, and, checking the clock to make sure he still had time for that coffee, Sean left his classroom behind and headed downstairs to get it.

He’d just about reached the ground floor teacher’s lounge when he found himself waylaid by Walter Tomlinson, a dour middle-aged man who was one of the assistant principals. The balding apparatchik was not one of his favorite persons at Northwood.

“Ah, Mr. Kent, just one of the people I’ve been looking for,” Tomlinson said as he looked up at the younger man’s nearly six-foot height and proceeded to remind him that his office was still waiting for his monthly progress reports; which were already a week late.

“You’ll have them first thing Monday morning,” Sean promised, knowing full well that he hadn’t even started on them.

“See that I do,” the older man said. “Remember, you’re still a probationary teacher, and something like that wouldn’t look good on your record when it comes time for the board to consider whether to extend your contract.”

“Yes, sir,” Sean said with a smile, hiding the fact that he thought the man was a total tool, desperately in need of a life — or at least a good blowjob, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”

It was at that moment, glancing over the shorter man’s head, that Sean saw a woman shorter than either of them coming out of the teacher’s lounge. She turned in the opposite direction too quickly for him to get a good look at her, but she seemed exceedingly familiar.

‘That’s impossible, it couldn’t be her,’ he thought, ignoring the administrator inches in front of him.

“Are you listening to me, Mr. Kent?” Sean heard Mr. Tomlinson say in an elevated voice, making him realize that he’d missed whatever he’d just said.

“Yes, sir,” Sean replied, hoping that it was the proper response to whatever it was that the older man had said.

For a long moment, he worried that it hadn’t been because the vice principal just stared at him. The moment passed, however, and, after repeating that he expected those reports on his desk Monday morning, Tomlinson went off in search of other prey.

Sean stood there for a few moments more, wondering if he still had time to catch up to whoever it was that he had seen coming out of the lounge — just to satisfy his curiosity. Then, thinking that she could’ve gone into any number of rooms or stairwells in the adjacent corridor, he abandoned that idea.

Stepping inside the lounge, Sean saw a few other teachers taking advantage of their free periods. Two women were sitting at one of the tables having an animated discussion while a third male teacher stood by the coffee machine reading a newspaper while he drank a cup of the hot brew.

Figuring it didn’t hurt to ask since the beverage station was his objective anyway, Sean broached the question of whether someone else had just been in the lounge to the older instructor.

“Can’t say that I noticed,” Lyle Morrison, who’d only come to Northwood after Sean had graduated, said as he looked up from the newspaper in his hand. “Was there someone in particular that you were looking for, Kent?”

“No, not really,” Sean said. “I saw a woman coming out the door from down the hall, I thought it was someone that I knew.”

“I’m afraid I really don’t have as much of an eye for the ladies as you do, my boy,” Lyle replied. “I rarely notice them as they come and go.”

But Lyle certainly used to notice him when he came and went, the neophyte teacher thought. Sean hadn’t been back at Northwood a week before the fifty-year-old English Literature teacher invited him out for a drink. Eager to fit in, he’d readily accepted. It wasn’t until later when he noticed the total absence of female clientele in the pub Lyle had brought him to that the younger man realized that the older man was interested in sharing more than just a few drinks. The discussion that followed had been, to say the least — awkward.

“Perhaps one of the ladies at the table might have noticed her?” Lyle then suggested.

“No, forget it,” Sean responded, “it was probably just my imagination anyway.”

Lyle lifted his cup as if to say, suit yourself, then went back to the newspaper he’d been perusing.

Sean poured himself his own cup of coffee, then moved to an empty table on the other side of the room, preferring to enjoy his drink in solitude. The more he thought about it, the idea that it had been his old mentor that he’d spotted was pretty absurd. After all, from what he’d heard, she’d taken early retirement while he was away at college and had moved down to Florida with her husband. At most, it was just someone who bore some resemblance to the diminutive Asian woman and the power of suggestion had done the rest.

The rest of his day was busy enough that Sean didn’t have the time to think again about much else other than his class lessons. When he did find time to put those aside after his last class, his attention focused instead on what he wanted to do about dinner tonight. He’d broken up with his girlfriend a month before, and while he really didn’t want to spend another Friday night alone in his apartment, the idea of eating out alone held just as little appeal. One of his buddies had suggested they check out the new Police Academy movie, so that was a possibility.

“Still walking around with your head in the clouds, Mr. Kent,” a familiar voice unexpectedly said from behind Sean, one that abruptly snapped him out of his musings. “It’s nice to see some things don’t change.”

Turning in the direction of the voice, Sean stepped into his past, suddenly feeling like he was a teenager again. The diminutive Filipina woman standing before him was nearly a foot shorter and a good forty-five pounds lighter, with short curly hair that still hadn’t fully completed its transformation from black to gray. Wearing a forest green button-down blouse under a light grey blazer and a pair of dark blue jeans, her compact frame highlighted a medium-sized bust that had often drawn Sean’s attention in class. Despite the passage of time, Jaclyn Chiu still looked as she had a decade before.

“Holy shit — Mrs. Chiu?” Sean blurted out, forgetting he was a teacher now.

“Language, Sean,” the older woman said, mock shock in her tone. “I really thought I’d taught you better than that.”

“I’m sorry, I just ... well, I just thought...” he stammered. “Mrs. Chiu, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Take a breath, Sean,” Jaclyn said, the expression on her face fading to a smile as she added. “And don’t you think that you’re a bit too old to still be calling me Mrs. Chiu?” Especially since, as I understand it, you’re a big-shot teacher now.”

“Hardly a big shot,” Sean laughed, returning her smile, “but yeah, I actually made it.”

“So I heard,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”

That made his smile even broader.

“What are you doing here?” Sean asked. “I thought you’d retired to Florida.”

“I did, and I still live down there,” Jaclyn replied. “I’m just up here visiting my grandchildren and taking care of a few other things.”