Hot For Teacher (11 page)

   “What the…?” Aiden had thrown a mostly clean french fry at my face, splashing a glob of gravy and cheese in my eye and, likely, my hair. Giggling, Shelby hands me a napkin as I give my two best friends a death stare. “Real classy, Aiden.” I wipe the gravy from my face, tossing the napkin at Aiden, who ducks. In my heated anger, I don’t notice Mr. Hamilton and Dean Andrews walking by us. Dean Andrews walks up to the diner register. Mr. Hamilton picks up the napkin I threw at Aiden, which had landed on the floor, and places it on the table next to my hand.

   “Don’t forget right here, Miss Willows. You, uh…missed a spot.” Mr. Hamilton gently brushes my cheek with his thumb.
Oh, holy hell
! I want to die right there. He actually takes his thumb and puts it in his mouth, sucking the gravy off. I think my stomach rippled, like a stone skipping over a pond, before my brain reengaged in semi-conduciveness.

   “T-thanks.” I grab the napkin and furiously brush my cheek.

   “See you on Tuesday,” he says before turning to walk away.

   “Is there a quiz?” Shelby calls out, making Mr. Hamilton turn back around, and Dean Andrews is watching us.

   Eyes wide, I look at her and mouth,
WHAT THE HELL?

   “Actually, there is. Make sure Miss Willows studies
extra
hard
.” Mr. Hamilton walks out with Dean Andrews and I sink into my seat. Did he have to say it like that? I swear he enunciated the words
extra hard
on purpose.

   “Thanks!” Shelby, with her usual bubbly attitude, calls back and waves. Mr. Hamilton keeps walking, but sticks his arm in the air and waves back.

   “Seriously, I’m going to kill you, Shelby.” It isn’t possible to sink lower in my seat as we watch them walk back towards campus.

   “Well, now that he’s touched you, you’ll have something to master…,” Shelby says as Aiden bumps his water into her lap, making her jump up, squealing.

   “OKAY!” I yell at her, drawing more unwanted attention to myself.

   “I didn’t need to know that. I’ll make sure I text before we come over,” Aiden mumbles, clearly as embarrassed as I am. I put my arms over my head, trying to forget my two best friends sitting in front of me and smiling like idiots. 

Jack
  

   The week has been a busy one between managing my company and clients, as well as teaching the Statistics course on Tuesday. Edith Willows has tormented me the entire time just sitting there quietly and pretending we didn’t have a past together, as brief as it was. Now that it is finally Thursday, I go to get my flu shot, recalling Edith had skipped my class. The overly helpful nurse at the student clinic wants to take my shirt off for just a damn flu shot when I can just simply roll up my sleeve. Amanda, my on again/off again girlfriend, flew back and stopped over the other night, before heading back out again. The sex all-nighter was probably what I needed to purge Edith from my mind. My dick was sated, for the time being, and Amanda walked out on unsteady legs, which pleased me immensely. I was about to leave the clinic with my flu shot paperwork for HR when I hear my familiar pain in the ass student who cut class earlier today.

   “Miss, I really think you should continue to lie down until you feel better. At least drink more juice.” I spin around and see a very pale Edith pushing a nurse away, wobbling to a plastic chair in the waiting room.

   “I’m fine. I just need the bus to get to work.” Edith grabs the chair and slumps forward, her head rolling like a rag doll.

   “Edith, take it easy. Are you alright? Is it the flu?” I grab her by her upper arms to hold her up. I notice how frail she seems to be under my touch. “Edith, stay with me. Come on.” I lean her back, propping her up against the wall. “Edith, keep your eyes open.” This position is all too hauntingly familiar for me, and I try to hold myself back and keep her standing upright.

   “Sh’um fine, Mr. H.” She tries pushing my hand away, but can’t even get her arm up with any force.

   “No offence, but you look like shit, Edie.” I decide holding her close will have to suffice; otherwise, she might wiggle in my arms, causing more problems than I care to deal with right now.

   “You never call me that. It’s always Edith with you.” She keeps slurring her words and I look up at the nurse for some assistance.

   “She’s just given plasma. Are you a friend or relative? She’s never had this kind of reaction before.”

   “She’s done this before?” I look back at Edith. If it is even possible, she looks more waxen and pale. I wonder what would make Edith have to give plasma like this.

   “Like clockwork, sir. Oh, and before I forget, here’s the twenty dollar gift card we give all our plasma donors.”

   “Donors?” I look between the two of them. Edith looks like she barely weighs the minimum to donate anything.

   “Zip! I’ll be takin’ that!” Almost drunkenly, Edith grabs for the gift card twice before dropping it and just blankly staring at it. I pick it up off the floor and pocket it. We are definitely going to be talking about this later. Suddenly, her eyes roll into her head and it is lights out for princess pain in my ass.

   “Whoa, there. Let’s get a cot for her. I think this might take her awhile.” I pick up Edith, who weighs pretty much what I thought she would…delicate, feather light, and enough to piss me off because she obviously isn’t eating enough to sustain herself properly. “Damn it, Edie. What are you doing to yourself?” I bring her into one of the triage rooms that had a cot in it and place her down. As I brush hair back from her face, her shampoo fragrance drifts to my nose, scented like sweet summer honeysuckle.

   I watch Edith rest for about a half-hour before she starts to come around. “Here, drink some juice.” I help her sit up on the cot and give her the juice box, like she is a little kid. Edith is definitely not a child, but I feel like a total pervert thinking the thoughts I do about her. 

   “Thank you.” She is quiet and I’m curious, surely a bad combination for us both.

   “Edith, I probably shouldn’t ask, but…” I hand her the donor gift card. For all I know, it is her beer money for some frat party.

   “Please. Don’t.” Edith slowly pockets the card in her jeans and looks around the curtained off room. I walk over to the chair and pick up her bag for her. She looks at her phone. “Ugh, crap. I’m late for work.”

   “Where do you work?”

   “A dry cleaner over on Main Street.”

   “Well, come on. I’ll drive you over.” I give her my arm to help her get up. Her fingers are soft and cool to the touch…and causes an almighty zing right to my pants.

   “It’s not necessary.” she mumbles, not looking at me.

   “I’ll take her over,” a deep voice behind me says. I turn around. Ah, the medical student friend.

   “Aiden? How…?” Edith takes a step and stumbles. I grab her and push her back onto the cot. I stand over her, my hand on her shoulder, keeping her there.

   “The nurse told the girl checking everyone in and she called Shelby, since they have class together, and Shelby called me. Come on, rock star. Let’s get you some dinner.” Aiden tries to brush past me, but I hold my ground. “Mr. Hamilton, don’t you have a Math Fundamentals prep course this evening?” Her smartass friend must have been doing his homework.

   “Not this semester. Miss Willows, I hope to see you in class on Tuesday.” Clearly, I am being dismissed.

   “Y-yes, Mr. Hamilton.”

   I put Edith’s purse on the cot next to her. “And no more skipping class to donate plasma. I’m willing to overlook it this one time. Surely beer money for frat parties comes easier than this.” Pissed off, I walk out past her friend and make my way to my car parked on the street. I was mad. Considering I’d spent time getting off with Amanda earlier, it is weird to be so angry at her friend for merely coming to pick her up. A green haze of jealously overcomes me for a moment, but I push it aside. Shit like this will get me fired. 

Edith

  “It’s not beer money, jerk,” I feebly yell back at him, but he just throws his hand up in the air, like a dismissive wave, and keeps on walking away and out of sight. If I had more energy, I might have contemplated following him to give him a piece of my mind.

  “I can’t believe that asshole just said that.” Aiden stands with his arms crossed and his muscles bulging under his t-shirt that says “Nerds are Hot”. “What the hell is going on, Edie?” he says pissed, his hands on his hips.

   “I don’t know, Aiden. I really don’t know.” Shaking my head makes me dizzy so I just put my head in my hands and lean forward, hoping the dizzy spell will pass quickly.

   “You know Shelby is going to ask. Prepare for the interrogation.”

   “Please, Aiden. I can’t take another inquisition right now.”

   “Let’s get you a greasy burger before I drop you off at work.” My stomach rolls thinking about food, I push the feeling down and focus on getting out of here.

   Aiden helps me out to his car, a beat-up Mercedes his parents gave him. The car has seen some better days, but it drives nicely and gets us around campus just fine. Aiden is a good friend, and I know you have to appreciate the few good ones you are lucky enough to have.  

Jack

    Edith consumes my thoughts the next few weeks and it isn’t only her marginally passing grade that comes to mind. Last week, I thought the gods were playing a cruel joke on me because the podium I was using to hide my massive boner had disappeared. I promptly called maintenance and had it brought back before my next class. I keep replaying that kiss from so many years ago. My mind goes back to how soft, plump, and silky her lips felt. I think about her tongue and how good it had tasted. Words escape me to describe it, but my dick strains against my pants when I think about it. I make that useless TA of mine tutor Edith, hating that it can’t be me, and I am pissed the dean is unable to replace him mid-semester. She needs a passing grade to keep her scholarship and finish school. I can’t let her loose it because I can’t keep my hands and mind together.

   It also doesn’t help that our weather hasn’t shifted to a proper fall, either. Edith has been wearing skimpy-looking t-shirts with jeans that look ready to fall off her hips. Black flip flops and toenails painted red tease me, leaving me thinking how much I want her legs wrapped around my waist. Fantasies of taking her across my desk, papers thrown to the floor, don’t help. When I zoned out on Amanda during dinner the last time she was here, she stormed out saying I’d been too distant with her. She was right, but what can I do about it? The one thing I want, I can’t have, and what I
do
have is a poor substitute. I’m a horrible man.

   I hadn’t seen Edith in class on Tuesday. I have a few students who regularly cut class, but I told her I wasn’t going to tolerate her doing so. I am not above a little coercion to get her passing my class, but I’m not going to make it easy for her, either. It is now Thursday, and no sign of Edith. No phone call or email telling me why she missed class.

   “Hey, Daniel. Have you seen Edith Willows?” I grab Daniel on his way out, making him stop short and bump into another classmate.

   “No, sir. She missed our last two tutor sessions this week. She was a no show at the library.” Daniel shrugs and I wonder what is keeping her from class. Certainly I don’t think it’s me. I keep the appropriate distance, even if my mind can’t stop taking her clothes off every time I close my eyes. After Daniel leaves, I realize I don’t have a way to get in touch with her, so I call the Registrar to see if they can give me her number or address.

   After some back and forth, and speaking to a supervisor who questioned my motives, I am finally given an address and a cell phone number. I try calling her, but her voicemail box isn’t set up and she doesn’t answer. I wonder if she gave plasma again, or if she is in some kind of trouble. I decide I will just head over to her place and see for myself.

   I grab my bag and go out to my car, driving around the New Brunswick area until I get to a less-than-favorable neighborhood containing small row houses with fences that keep small yards separated. Her house is in the middle of the block, and what looks like bus stops are on either end of the row. I hate thinking this is how she is getting around. I remember her being a senior with a car of some sort, but there is none in front of her house. I drive down and find a parking spot. Knocking on the door gets me no answer but, peeking through a window, I see a light on in the living room.

   “Edith. Edith. Edie, open up the door. It’s, uh…it’s Jack Hamilton.” I don’t hear anything, but being that my worry is escalating, I do what I have to and damn the consequences. “Edith, I’m coming in. Stand back from the door.” Giving the door a good shove, it barely budges, but by the time I ram myself into it two more times, it breaks the hinge enough for me to push my way inside.

   I look around the space, noticing how sparse and neat everything is. I call for Edith. Nothing. Turning around again, I find her curled up on the couch right in front of me.

   “Edith. Edie, why didn’t you answer me?” I sit down on the couch next her and touch her bare shoulder. Heat meets my fingertips. It is then that I realize how cool her apartment is and how hot she feels under my hand.  “Edie, come on. Wake up for me! Please!” Edith isn’t mine. She isn’t my girl no matter what I want. She is my student, but damn if the lines don’t blur when she needs someone to look after her. I shake her gently, taking in how she is dressed. A simple tank top, pink underwear, no socks, and a messy braid. She gives me no response, increasing my worry. I check her pulse, which is slow.

   “Edie, come on and wake up for me.” This time, she barely stirs under my touch, but weakly tries to push me away. I just can’t remain so formal with her now. Seeing her helpless is killing me because she’s always been so tough to crack. “That’s my girl.” I say slipping. “You’re feverish and dehydrated, baby. Let me help you. Okay?” I find her cellphone on the floor, and picking it up. I turn it on, only to find it dead.

   I go over to her sink and cabinets behind the sleeper sofa she hadn’t bothered to pull out for herself. Opening cabinets, I find neatly organized bananas, a club-sized box of Ramen noodles, and bulk-sized oatmeal. Turning to look at her briefly, I say sarcastically, “You like your fiber don’t you, Edie.” She moans a little and I can’t tell if she is even responding to my quip. She’d probably flip out if she actually heard me use her nickname I’d only heard her two cohorts call her.

   Opening another cabinet, hoping to find a glass, I find a complete plate set and glasses for four. All are mismatched, but clean and cute…just like her. I pull out a glass and place it under the faucet, expecting running water. “Shit, Edith. Really? No water?” I make a note to call her landlord and find out what the fuck is going on.

   I open the freezer, looking for ice to cool her down. Chicken cutlets and pizzas fill the space. A lonely container of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in my favorite flavor, mint chocolate, and an ice tray finally come into view. I dump most of the ice into the glass and check the fridge, hoping she has bottled water. “Edith, do you ever eat?” Opening the fridge is equally depressing, unless you consider a five pound bag of carrots and a jug of orange juice food groups. I know Edith has a full scholarship, minus the cost of room and board. I know because I checked into it. What is she doing with her money?

   “Motrin?” I glance over at her. “Right. I’ll check in the bathroom.” Edith still doesn’t respond beyond a groan, so I riffle through the mirrored cabinet in her black-and-yellow 1970’s-era bathroom. I consider putting her in a cold bath to bring her fever down, but there’s no tub. Just a stand-up shower with a clear curtain, and two thin white towels, neatly folded. They aren’t even the fluffy kind like I have at home. She is breaking my heart just thinking about the squalor I see her living in. The bottle of Motrin is empty. I shake it in my hand before tossing it in the trash.

   “Okay, Edith. I’m going to get you to drink this cold juice, then I’m going to help you put clothes on and get you in to see a doctor.”

   She rolls away weakly, her head limp as I try holding her up. She won’t take any juice and her lips are dry. I put her on her back and listen to her chest, which sounds raspy. “Baby, there’s nothing I can do for you, so we’re going to the emergency room. You need something to get the fever down.” I brush her hair, which is wet and sticking to her scalp, off her forehead. “Clothes would be…?” I look around as she stirs in my lap.

   “N-no,” she mumbles.

   “What? No clothes or no hospital? Edie, I’m not giving you a choice, even though I like what you’re wearing.” Who doesn’t love a woman in a tank top and panties? The thought makes me cringe because, yeah, this ‘woman’ is still my student.

    I locate the one dresser and a separate closet in the open room. It strikes me as odd that there is no computer or TV, just a bookshelf and the dresser. Leaving her on the couch, I look through the dresser, then find a small duffle bag in the closet. I grab two sets of cotton panty and bra sets. There isn’t much selection for clothes…a few tops, a few pairs of jeans, and a pair of sleep pants. It takes some effort to get her dressed. Propping her up, I manage to shimmy her legs into pants and her arms into a top. Of course, being the slight pervert I am, I appreciatively run my hands down her small ass and legs. She swats me away, grumbling. “I know. You can punch me later. I promise.” Smiling, I grab her shoes…a pair of those horrid black flip-flops and black converse chucks. I toss those in the bag. I’d contemplate later what kind of women only had two pairs of shoes.

   “Come on, Edie. Up we go.” She definitely will have some explaining to do after this. I feel like a total dick, making all my assumptions and now seeing her like this. I am shattered. Every probable reason leaves me. I get her into the car and buckle her in, feeling her forehead. “Just a little longer and you’ll be okay. I promise.” I drive to the ER as quickly as possible, leaving my car in the emergency lot and carrying her in until. An orderly lead me to a cot in the hallway to put her on. The place was packed for a Thursday, every chair filled with screaming kids and moaning elderly folks.

   “Sir, can I help you?” a nurse with a clipboard asks.

   “Yes. She has a high fever and has been unresponsive. I found her unconscious in her house. I couldn’t get her to take any fluids.”

   “Bring her in here.” I carry Edith to a small curtained room and lay her on the bed. It is the first time she actually stirs and opens her eyes, grabbing my shirt.

   “Edie, you’re going to be okay. We’re at the hospital,” I say.

   “N-no.” Edith cries a little and, with the help of the nurse, I have to pry her surprisingly strong grip from my shirt. I have to believe she is going to be okay, and I need her to believe it, as well. The nurse makes me step back.

   “My goodness, she’s fevered. I’ll need you to step outside, sir.”

   “With all due respect, I don’t want to leave her alone.”

   “Are you family?” The nurse looks at me pointedly.

    “No… She’s got a high fever and I was afraid something would happen if I didn’t bring her in.” This nurse is going to give me a hard time unless I can convince her otherwise.

    “Sir, if you’re not a family member or a partner, I can’t let you stay. HIPPA laws and all that jazz.” She is clearly irritated.

   “B-boyfriend,” I choke out. I am
so
getting fired for this. Job suicide seems to be all the rage, but I can’t leave Edith here alone.

   She cocks her head to the side, unconvinced. “All right. While we get her settled and wait for the doctor to come in, I’ll need you to fill out this paperwork as best you can.” She hands me a clipboard and that is that.