Hot For Teacher (41 page)

The moment that the girl I wanted found out the truth and I was powerless to stop it. Everything I am is a disgrace. Everything I’ve done in my life has been a mistake. Every choice I’ve made and every girl I’ve been with has cost me Arleen.

And I have no idea how to get her back.

Number One: My First

May 1, 2013 (Seventeen months ago)

I wasn’t ready for it. It shouldn’t have happened.

I was only sixteen. While everyone in my school had their faces glued to their phones, laughing and interacting with one another, I couldn’t even say I’d had a friend since Cub Scouts. Yet there I was, lying naked on a bed with a girl from debate. Peggy.

Peggy was a senior, and I was a sophomore. She had quite the reputation, and I thought it would be a good idea to learn some things from someone who had experience.

“Don’t be scared, Simon,” Peggy began. ”Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this moment?” she whispered. “I’m just as nervous as you are right now. So whatever you’ve heard about me or think of my reputation, I can assure you: I don’t do this all the time.”

It was convincing enough. I knew she was just a stepping stone to my future, but after the two short minutes it took for me to finish, I felt even worse about myself after I’d left. Not only did I not get her off, but I realized that I felt empty, bitter, and like I didn’t have anyone in the world.

And as much as I thought I’d feel close to her, close to someone, after we’d shared something like that together, I only felt completely isolated as I walked out of her house…alone.

I just wanted to go home and talk to my mom about stuff. But she wasn’t there. She and Dad were in Australia that month.

I missed them.

Instead of going home that night to an empty house, I went to the old church ruins that Dad and I had gone to when we needed shelter from the storm all those years ago.

I lay there for hours until I fell asleep, hoping that someday I could bring someone special to that place and share with her the magic I always felt whenever I returned
.

My horrible past behavior has been weighing me down. I think about it nonstop. In the halls at school, a feeling of dread crashes through me when I see the girls I’ve used. Every one of them glare, their pain and angst cuts right through me.

I’ve played with them all. I’ve used them as some kind of deranged sexual experiment for the end goal of…what? To get lucky with Miss Shields? I’m disgusting.

For a few minutes every day, I have to laugh. It’s a maniacal laugh when I catch myself thinking
This can’t be my life.

How I ever thought that this was normal is beyond logic now. I’m sure the Feminists would have a field day with the amount of self-deprecation I’ve had the past few days.

Arleen doesn’t speak to me. At all. She gave me her number -- had slipped it into my backpack before I confessed to her about my past -- but to be honest, I feel like I’d need to say things I wasn’t sure how to find the words for.

I just need some more time.

Unfortunately, Saint Louis is next week. If we’re going to have any chance of winning, I’m going to need to speak to her. To see her.

Oh God.

A moment of clarity comes, and I realize what I need to do: I need to apologize. Not to Arleen, but to all nine of the girls from my sexual past.

It had been so easy to dismiss them as nothing. I was selfish and arrogant. I know that the only way to truly make amends is if I suck it up and admit that I was wrong. It’ll be hard, but it’s the only way.

Once I arrive home, I race up the steps and into my room. I pull up the Excel spreadsheet with all the girls’ names. I cringe as I read the nicknames I have given them. By associating them with something like a car, I really had dehumanized them. I had dehumanized
me.

Jesus, I suck.

I take a deep breath, mentally prepare myself for the ass chewing of my life, and I start calling.

But an apology over the phone isn’t enough, so I make arrangements with as many as I can to meet in person over the next few days. Some don’t answer their phones, and one number has been disconnected. But overall, I’ve scheduled times and locations for six—the first being with Andrea, the
Volkswagen
, in the library before school tomorrow.

***

“Motherfucker!” Andrea says, and I feel the stinging slap across my cheek.

I nod and look around the library. I’m certain I have five more slaps to come today. My poor face will need an icepack.

“I deserve it,” I say resignedly. And I know I do. Hell, I didn’t even try to dodge her.

“Do you have any idea what you put me through?” she yells.

And I feel it. I really do. I think about what I would have felt if Arleen had done this to me, and I cringe. I would be crushed. I’d want to cry like a little bitch.

Have I mentioned that I suck?

I keep my eyes on hers as she spews her hostility toward me. And I get it. She deserves an apology, and she deserved better than what I did to her.

But I’m stuck. If I tell her she deserves better, I won’t just sound like a groveling asshole, I’ll sound like I’m doing whatever I can to placate her—another go-to speech.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, going for the apology anyway. I think about covering my testicles with my hands, casting a wary glance at Andrea’s clawed fingers, worried they’ll make mincemeat of my boys.

“I was only thinking of myself. And please believe me when I tell you that the person I was isn’t the person I am today.”
“I don’t care, Simon. This isn’t about
you
and
your
conscience. Whatever epiphany you’ve had in the last few days isn’t going to change the way you’ve treated me or the others.”

I stay silent, because I know that she has more she wants to get off her chest, and anything I say or do right now could be detrimental. I want her walking away knowing that I’m sincerely regretful.

And I’d like to walk away with all appendages in good working order.

“Look, it’s been over a month, and I can say that I’m better now. But you have no idea what you did to me. I’m a good person, Simon. I’m a good student and good friend. Those are things you never cared about because you never got to know me. You didn’t give a shit. But I gave you the most sacred part of me! I gave you my virginity! Do you know how big of a deal that is? I’m Catholic, Simon!”

Well hell, I hadn’t been expecting
that.

I take a deep breath and try to find words that won’t hurt her. “Andrea. You’re right. And I’d be lying to you if I said it meant the same to me as it did to you. I’m not going to insult you even more by telling you that I completely understand. Because I don’t. All I can do is apologize for what I’ve done and try to get you to believe me.”

I rake my hand through my hair and continue. “I was in a bad place. I’ve always been in a bad place. And what I did to you is inexcusable and cruel. What I did makes me a horrible person. But please understand that I’m trying to change that. I want you to know that you deserve to be treated better than I treated you. You deserve someone who’s going to love you for all that you are. If I was even half a man, I would’ve recognized that sooner. What I did was wrong. Period. And if you have to spend another six months hating me, you have that right. I’m certainly not going to tell you your reasons aren’t justified. Do what you have to do, and I’ll just hope that someday you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

What I’ve said seems to make her soften a little. But I wasn’t pulling a line. And I wasn’t telling her what she wanted to hear. I meant it. All of it.

But holy shit, I’m wiped out.

This is going to be a long fucking day.

The longest two days of my life have passed. I was lucky: I only received two slaps to my face and one outright refusal to talk to me.

But I did it.

I said my apologies. I made my amends. And my junk was still attached to my body. All in all I consider that a success.

Oddly enough, I still don’t feel great.

I suspect it’s going to take some time to forgive myself for what I’ve done. And that’s okay. It’s probably going to take them some time too. But there’s only a week left before we leave for Saint Louis, and I need to speak with Arleen.

I doubt she’ll be able to get over the fact that I’ve been with so many girls on the debate team, and I’m preparing myself for the cold shoulder. But whether or not she’s willing to take that more-than-friends leap, I’ve been paired with her for this debate. And I still have no idea what the topic is.

I dig out the piece of paper with her phone number on it and send her a text.

Hey. Can I see you tonight? We need to go over the debate.

I wait, and several minutes later I receive her response.

When/Where?

I’m hopeful. It’s more of a response than I thought I’d get.

My house. Nine o’clock.

After typing in my address, I hit send. Her response is immediate.

I’ll be there.

***

The problem with trying to fix the Arleen situation is that it’s completely out of my hands. At some point I changed from wanting to protect her to simply needing her beside me.

Sex is a big issue with us: The girls I’ve been with before. The fact that she thought that’s all I would want from her. I’m not sure how I’ll get her to see that I think of her as more than a walking, talking piece of ass.

She’ll be here in a half an hour, and all I can do is stare at my stupid spreadsheets. The screen is bright, and I have highlights and notes all over it. I look at each name, scrolling down and making sure that I’ve spoken to every one of them—well, with the exception of Tricia, but we won’t talk about that. If anything I feel like
I
deserve an apology from
her.

Each cell contains the name of a girl. The corresponding cells highlight the date, the location, and what I did with them. My stomach lurches at the thought of how pathetic this all looks.

Empty cells cross the document and are highlighted in yellow. The only open spot is Number Ten.

The spot underneath that says nothing but ‘Katie Shields.’ I shake my head at my immature behavior for the past few years.

At the time it seemed perfectly normal. Logical. At the time, nothing else mattered but getting my dick wet. There’s no way I would’ve known what I was doing was fucked up if Arleen hadn’t had come into my life when she did and opened my mind to other possibilities.

I owe her an explanation of some kind. I owe her my future. How do you tell someone something like that and not sound like a complete asshat?

Hey Arleen, thanks for helping me see the light. And thanks for proving to me just how small my testicles can shrink. By the way, you wanna screw? Because you’re different from those other girls I’ve fucked.

Yeah, I’m sure she’d believe that.

Fueled on frustration, I storm to the bathroom and get in the shower. By the time I step out, I hear the doorbell.

I race for my clothes and try to get them onto my wet body. It takes me twice as long as usual, and I run down the steps, pulling my shirt over my head. The outside light is on and Arleen’s shadow can be seen through the window next to the front door.

I stumble in the entry, and open the door from a kneeling position. She squints and looks down at me.

There’s barely a hint of a smile on her face, and I can tell she wants to make a joke. But she doesn’t.

“Come in,” I say, getting off my knees and opening the door wide. “And please, before you say anything, come in and sit on the couch. I want to try to explain myself.” I feel like I’ve spent half my life lately explaining myself to this girl. But she deserves it.

Deliberating for some time, she hesitates in coming into the living room. She’s conflicted, and I know she’s probably just as confused as I am, but I have to put it all on the table. I can’t hold back now. I’ve gotten her here, in my home, and I know I won’t get another chance like this.

Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail tonight, and her eyes look tired. She throws her backpack on the floor and sits down.

“How is your brother feeling?” I begin, starting with a different subject in order to get a feel for her attitude.

“Better, thanks.” She keeps her head down and nestles into the corner of the couch.

“Good.” I nod, and am suddenly scared as shit to tell her how I feel.

I sit on the chair across from her and try not to wuss out.

“I know that you probably hate me right now,” I say, pausing in hope that she’ll interrupt me and say that I’m wrong. But she stays quiet.
Ouch.
“But it’s really important to me that you hear me out.”

She nods. “I’m here, Simon. I don’t hate you, but I’m not your biggest fan either.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I’ve done some really shitty things. Things that I couldn’t possibly explain in detail right now--”

“I don’t want…details.”

I laugh. “No! Not that. I mean, I can’t even begin to figure out how to explain to you why I’ve done what I’ve done, but it wasn’t because I’ve been some horny teenager. I mean,” I hesitate, “not
only
because I’m a horny teenager.” The joke was a bad one and Arleen’s smile looked more like a grimace.

“Simon, if this is some song and dance so you can get me naked, keep dreaming, Romeo. Because I can tell you right now, no amount of charm in the world is getting these pants off me tonight.”

“No! It’s not like that, I swear! I won’t sleep with you—ever—”

Arleen flinched and I realized how that sounded. Great! I was making a mess of this!
Brain and mouth, please disengage!

“I meant, I won’t sleep with you if you don’t want me to. Of course I want to! I mean look at you! You’re sexy as hell. And I’d love to see you naked. Your rack is amazing.”
Oh God, why can’t I shut up?

I clear my throat and I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Okay, forget I just said all that.”
Please?
“I just want you try to understand why I am the way I am.”

She nods, her jaw tight. “Then by all means, continue.”

I clear my throat again. I’m going to do this. I’m going to throw up my sordid history into her lap. Is she ready for it?
Am
I
ready for it?

Well here goes nothin’.

“I lost my virginity almost two years ago. And my reasons for sleeping with her were stupid.” I roll my eyes, thinking about Miss Shields. “I had this vision of who I wanted to be by the time I was eighteen, and I’ve only just realized—in the past few days, actually—that the person I became was ugly. So, so ugly.” I bow my head and scratch my temple. “I’m not saying this to charm you, or woo you, or get you into my bed. I’m telling you this because I’ve realized how important you are to me. Probably the most important person I’ve ever met. And we’re so much alike. You can’t see it because I haven’t told you about my life.” I realize I’m jabbering like an idiot, but I can’t stop. My mouth is like a runaway train.

“You’ve had it so much worse than I have, but those feelings of detachment and keeping people at arm’s length are there for me, too. My parents suck. They’re never around. I feel like I’m more of an inconvenience than their son most of the time. I know how it feels to have your parents leave. And I know how hard it is to feel like you had to do it on your own. Your situation is in a completely different league from mine—so much that it’s almost incomprehensible —but on some level, I understand you.”

She closes her eyes and sniffs, lifting her head.

“I know it hurts, Arleen. I know what it’s like to think the people who were supposed to love you left you when you needed them the most.” I choke on my words.

Arleen isn’t even looking at me. She’s staring at a spot just over my shoulder. Her eyes are wide and glassy and I’m not entirely sure she’s hearing me.

“I realize that you and I can’t be more than friends right now, but I’d really like to keep you in my life.”

She finally looks at me, her face clearing, her eyes fixed on mine. 

“Please, Arleen? Let me keep you?”

She slouches in her seat and wipes her eyes. “I’m not going to be able to trust you for a long time.”

I nod and smile. “That’s okay. I’m probably not going to be able to trust me, either.”

Arleen shakes her head. “I don’t know, Simon,” she says, and I can see her resolve ease a little.

I don’t want to push her for more. I know instinctively it would be too much. And even though I’m a little disappointed, I accept that it will take some time.

I get up and walk to her, holding out my hand. “Come on.” I motion toward the steps. “We have a debate to research.”

Her hand slips into mine, and I take it as a positive sign and we walk upstairs.

“Your house is huge,” she says, taking in the vaulted ceilings, hand-crafted banister, and the six doors she can see as we reach the top of the steps. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this nice before.”

We walk past the bathroom, and my dirty boxers and T-shirt are lying on the floor from my shower. Reluctantly, I let go of her hand and grab a tissue from the counter and hand it to her. “My room is right there,” I say quickly, “Go in and start Googling. I’ll be there in a second.”

Her cheeks blush on the way to my room, and I’m certain she saw my underwear.
Great. Because this night couldn’t get any more awkward.

I try to be quick, cleaning up the water I’d spilled getting out of the shower and piling the dirty laundry into the hamper. I take a towel and wipe off the counter, making sure that it looks clean enough. No sense in her thinking I’m a slob as well as a manwhore.

My reflection catches my eye, and my hair is a mess. After rubbing my hands through it to make myself somewhat presentable, I hear footsteps running through the hall.

Just as I’m opening the bathroom door, Arleen runs past and down the stairs. I can’t figure out why she’s in such a hurry.
What the hell is going on?

“Arleen, where are you going?” I call out, but she’s already opening the front door.

“Arleen?” I race after her, and by the time I get to my front door she’s pulling out of my driveway.

I sweep my hands through my hair, frustrated. My panted breaths make the condensation smoke in the cool night air.

I don’t understand. I thought things were going okay. What happened? Why is she in such a hurry?

Walking back into my house, I look around, still trying to make sense of it all.

Fuck!
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
I race upstairs and into my room.

Sitting on my desk is my laptop. It’s open and the screensaver is off. My eyes zone in to the spreadsheet where Number Ten is blank and highlighted in yellow.