Authors: Jj Rossum
I went back to my classroom before lunch ended, mostly wanting to get out of the loud, smelly lunchroom. A large group of the kids had P.E. before lunch, and some days they smelled so much worse afterwards than others.
I think I had overheard one of the students bitching about having to run a mile. If you mix teenagers who somehow still don’t all understand the concept of body odor or the blessing that is deodorant with the salty, humid air that Florida is famous for, you get an olfactory nightmare.
I opened up a book to read, and immediately felt gravity want to pull my eyelids to the ground. The death couch began to call to me.
I took my thumb and forefinger and tried to pull my eyelids open as wide as they would go, hoping this would jolt my brain into realizing I needed to stay awake.
This afternoon was undoubtedly going to drag by, and it was going to suck.
My eyes may or may not have closed for a moment or two when I heard the classroom door open. The sound seemed to come from a faraway land and jolted me upright.
“April,” I said, hoping she hadn’t realized I was dozing.
Who was I kidding? I was sure she had.
“Luke,” she said, walking toward my desk.
It was more of a saunter, and it was slightly sensual.
Maybe it seemed that way in my head. But, April looked even sexier than she had earlier in the day when I had entertained my teacher fantasy.
Her lipstick was a fierce red, and it matched her fingernails. I hadn’t noticed them earlier, only her lips. But now, the red seemed more vibrant. It stood out against her pale skin.
And I could have sworn she had undone one of the buttons of her white blouse.
Damn, I think I might be waking up.
“Did the putrid pupils run you from the lunchroom too?”
“No,” she said, stopping at one of the student’s desks and placing her hand down on it. “I actually lost most of my sense of smell as a child.”
My face surely registered shock.
“Oh my god, seriously?” I asked, unable to hide my incredulity. “I’m so sorry.”
Stupid, insensitive me. Always chewing on my feet.
April just stood there for a moment, looking a little sad and contemplative.
Then she started laughing.
“Of course I’m not serious,” she said. “Those kids smelled like rotting fish.”
I just shook my head and ignored the fact that she made me feel guilty about her little ruse.
“We have tried to start a petition to keep the kids from having to run miles before defiling the lunchroom. No such luck yet.”
“Well, you will absolutely have my signature on that petition,” she said. “But, I will need a pen to sign it. Which brings me to the reason I’m here. I need to borrow a pen.”
Nice segue.
“First you try to mock my sense of compassion, and now you want to borrow my stuff??”
More head shaking.
I scoured my desk for an acceptable pen. I had a habit of chewing pens and pen caps, when I didn’t have toothpicks available.
I couldn’t see a single good pen on my desk.
I opened up the drawer and searched. Nothing.
There was a table behind my desk, mostly covered in papers. I turned around in my chair to look there.
Finally, I found a Bic that appeared to be untouched by my teeth. It actually looked new.
But what a boring fucking pen. I was mildly embarrassed. As a teacher, I took a little pride in the supplies I had in my room. I always seemed to find cool versions of everyday classroom items. My stapler looked like the skull of a T-Rex, mostly because I was obsessed with Jurassic Park.
And, now, the prettiest woman in the building was asking me for a pen, and the best I was going to be able to give her was a boring-ass Bic.
“This is all I’ve got,” I said, turning back toward her. “It’s just this stupid...”
April’s hands were resting on the front of my desk, and she was leaning over it toward me. She had absolutely unbuttoned one of her top buttons, and her shirt hung open slightly. I could see down her blouse, the tops of her breasts visible. I couldn’t have resisted staring even if there had been a gun to my head. I’m sure my eyes got big. And I was sure she noticed.
“A stupid what?” she said, lowering herself onto her arms, giving me an even better look had I been looking.
Which I obviously was.
“Uh, just this plain Jane Bic,” I said, forcing myself to look at her face.
God, her lips were amazing. I wanted her red lips on every part of my body.
Fuck, I was getting hard.
“What was wrong with these?” she asked, gesturing toward the few mangled pens on my desk.
She hadn’t moved from her position. If someone had walked into the classroom, they would have seen her bent over my desk.
That view might almost be as good as this one.
Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts.
“I have a bad habit of chewing my pens,” I admitted. “It’s not something I’m proud of.”
She feigned horror.
“Bad Luke,” she said. “Certain things belong in your mouth, but I’m pretty sure pens don’t.”
Shit.
“Well, this one hasn’t seen my mouth, so you’re in luck,” I said, handing the pen over.
She stuck her tongue out at me as she took the pen, her hand seeming to linger on mine ever so slightly.
God, her hand was soft.
God, her tongue was long.
God.
“I didn’t know people over the age of six still stuck their tongues out,” I said.
“I have two small children,” she reminded me. “I stick my tongue out all I want.”
She did it again. But this time she took my pen and laid it across the tip of her tongue.
She smiled, and I swear she curled her tongue in, pulling the pen toward her lips.
I never imagined this in any teacher fantasy of mine. But, holy fuck.
I could see lipstick on the pen.
Luckiest Bic ever.
Then, she took the pen and slid it into the side of her mouth, long ways, like the world’s luckiest toothpick. Or dick.
Yeah, my mind definitely wasn’t thinking toothpick.
“Thank you, Luke,” she said, pen still in her mouth. “I’ll bring it back to you when I’m done with it.”
I just nodded. Words weren’t going to come out coherently.
She stood up straight, stretching her arms back and pointing her chest in my direction.
If I were a teenager, I would have already masturbated ten times to this fantasy. I will later masturbate ten times to this fantasy.
“God, I’m tired,” she said. “Maybe I’ll come visit your couch after school.”
She smiled again, her eyes dancing. Then she turned and walked out of the classroom.
The bell rang. And I was rock hard.
The rest of the day we continued our conversation, but my mind kept going back to her telling me to come over to her house after work. And that pen. God, I wanted to be a Bic.
I knew her husband wouldn’t be home—the Rays were finishing their series in Detroit with an afternoon match and would be flying home after the game. That would put them back in the area after midnight probably. At least I knew if I showed up I wouldn’t be getting shot.
Who watches your kids while you work?
I texted as the final period of the day began. My students already had their heads on their desks and would be napping in no time. God bless videos.
Paula, my nanny. I hired her when we moved here. She came highly recommended.
I always wondered how someone who came highly recommended would be out of a job and need hiring, but I didn’t bother asking.
Does she live with you guys?
No. But we have guest quarters behind the house. Occasionally she will stay if I need her to.
Man, I bet their house was pretty impressive. I suddenly had no desire to ever drive there. Something told me the Roller Skate wouldn’t belong in that kind of neighborhood.
I suddenly had the urge to ask her to go to dinner with me. The nanny was obviously watching the kids. What difference could a few extra hours make? I knew I probably wouldn’t get to talk to her much other than at work while her husband was in town.
What was the worst she could say? No? I’ve gotten a no or two in my day. She could say “Hell no, why would I go to dinner with you? I’m a married woman, you bastard!” but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case.
She claimed to be bold, and now it was my turn to be. Bold Luke hadn’t come out in a while, other than in his head.
What are your plans after work?
I asked. Of course, I immediately regretted sending it after I did.
I could always just say I was making conversation if she started acting weird.
Probably just go home and have dinner with the kids. The life of a mother is very exciting. :-)
Sounds like it!
Why do you ask?
Shit. I was hoping to just leave it alone now. Bold me apparently tried to go into hiding quickly.
I could lie or ask her out to dinner.
Make up your mind quickly, Luke.
And don’t regret the decision you make.
Oh, I was just mildly curious to see if you’d be interested in having dinner. Break up your mom routine a little.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
God, when did I become this way?
Years of bachelorhood will do it to anyone.
Just mildly curious?
She was smiling. I knew she was. I had never thought of someone smiling in a text unless they added those fucking emoticons, but I knew she was smiling.
Because I don’t know if I want to have dinner with someone who is just mildly curious,
she added.
Now I was smiling.
Let me rephrase?
Please do...
I want you to have dinner with me tonight.
Better.
You’re going to have dinner with me tonight.
That’s a little bold isn’t it, Mr. Harper?
What can I say? I guess you just bring out the best in me.
Well in that case I don’t think I have much of a choice then, do I?
I mean, I’d hate to have to drag you against your will...
I don’t think you’ll have to.
Oh, no?
Nope.
Okay then.
Do you have a particular place in mind for this dinner, sir?
Shit. I hadn’t thought that far ahead—I didn’t think she would actually say yes. I wasn’t going to take her to Pelican Pete’s. Creepy Carl the waiter might start thinking I am the creepy one taking different women to dinner every night.
Yeah, I know where we are going
, I lied.
Do you care to share?
Nope, it’s a surprise. You’ll see.
I purposely ran into her after school got out so that I could talk to her. Okay, I walked into her classroom, so I guess it can’t exactly be considered “running into.” She didn’t seem to mind.
She told me she was going to head home to check on the kids and tell Paula the nanny she would be out for dinner. I was to text her and let her know where she was going to meet me. This wasn’t like a high school date where I was driving to her house to pick her up; this was simply a dinner with a coworker.
Right, Luke.
Thankfully, she didn’t suggest I pick her up. It was possible that by this point she was aware that I skated around town in my old Suzuki, but I had no desire to make it our mode of transportation for the night. For god’s sake, her husband was a professional athlete and they had a nanny and a spare room/house in the back she could live in if she wanted! I was going to need to look for a new car pronto.
Dinner needed to be somewhat casual, but not sports bar casual. And it needed to be nice, but not anniversary dinner nice. So, I settled on an Italian place by the beach called Angelo’s, which I didn’t go to very frequently, but always seemed to ask myself “Why don’t I come here more often?” when I was there. Italian food always screamed
romantic
, but whatever, I was in the mood for it.
I lost the tie and changed into a white button-down with light blue pinstripes and put on jeans. My contacts were giving me trouble, and I was tempted to switch to my glasses.
She probably already thinks you’re a nerd, Luke. You don’t need to make it worse.
A few eye drops made everything better.
Admiring my reflection in the mirror wasn’t something I did often, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t checked myself out a few seconds longer than normal before I left my house. And when I walked into the restaurant, the sufficiently buxom hostess in an undersized black dress gave me a quick once over and seemed to like what she saw too.
“Just one?” she asked, when her eyes returned to mine.
It was taking every ounce of willpower I possessed not to look at her breasts. Although I am to an extent a boob guy, I wasn’t struggling with being a pervert and secretly wishing she would turn around so I could ogle her. Her breasts were just right there on full display for everyone and hard to avoid even if you wanted to. She had a thin waist and I had no idea how she was able to stand up straight. It’ll suck to be her back in twenty years.