Teacher’s Pet

It was the end of class. I was already insanely jealous of the senior girl who toddled in at the end of our class, coming in to be his teacher’s aide for the next class. She was some sort of Middle Eastern, with dark, beautiful shades of brown and black all about her. She was thin and attractive and despite the fact that our teacher was married with children, it was Sujata or Sahara or whatever her name was that I was jealous of.

I began to watch her as she would come in. They had a short hand way of speaking to each other built on several years of ease. She would come in and mention a story she was working on or did he have any copying to be done or could she run and get his mail. His mail! He would look up at her from his seated position at his desk, nearly eye to eye with her due to his insane height and answer her sometimes just with his eyes or a smile or a nod.

It was easier to think about this girl and this man right in front of me, of course, than all of the other things going on in my life. Without the threat of my brother right in front of me, all of it could fade away into a tightly closed box in the back of my thoughts rather than something that confronted me daily as I walked into our home.

My friend Dawn chuckled when we met for lunch and I gave her the report on what Mr. H had said or done that day. She didn’t have Mr. H. as a teacher and while she thought he was moderately attractive, she was saving her particular brand of angst for the sweet boy at the next table who smoked during class breaks and had recently offered us both rides home in his twenty year old car with fish tails or something on the back of it.

It was coming, I knew. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before I was going to try to do something to put the attention I saw showered on Sujata or Sahara or whatever on myself. I wanted it. I craved it. I needed someone who I respected to look at me with admiration rather than derision.

The scheming had begun.

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