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The New Teacher_(1)

Mr. Cunningham starts his new job at an all-girl private school, and finds that some girls have something other than education on their minds.

“Okay now, deep breath…”

I opened my entire mouth and sucked-in the entire oxygen content of my car as I sat in the faculty parking lot, staring down my own nervousness in the rear view mirror. Just before my lugs cried mercy from holding in more air that god had originally intended I sighed out everything, hopefully including my anxiety about the new job: the position of world history teacher at Turner King Private School for Girls. My jitters had less to do with the position of teacher, since I had already been doing that for years, and more to do with the transition from public school to private school. Sure, back at my old job I had to contend with the occasional bad seed or, at one point, future arsonist, but the pressure from the higher-ups and parents was not nearly as soul-crushing as it would be here. Now that these people were paying for their kids’ education, I would have to watch my ass every step of the way.

“Alright, Jacob Cunningham, look me in the eyes.” I said to my reflection sternly. “This is a big step-up and a big paycheck, so don’t blow it. Remember: these are still kids in need of teaching. The amount of money behind them and the face that they’re all girls doesn’t change that. Got it? Got it.”

I was just about to exit my car when the reflection in my side view mirror stopped me a second to say, “Hold on, just gotta check my hair.”

Leaning over I gave my looks a once-over to make sure I was presentable. My slightly wavy dirty-blond hair looked good with the haircut I had received the day before. I preferred to keep it long-ish, just around the ears on the side and longer in the back. My green eyes stared into their reflections and gave them a wink. Between them, my nice jawline, and a good shave, even I would have asked myself out. But no time for that right now. I grabbed my bag from the seat, closed the car door, and walked toward the school, head full of confidence and bag full of books and worksheets.

No one needed to look at the name of the school to figure out that it was a private one. Just the way it looked, modern and clean, told everyone that this place had the funds to pay for maintenance, and then some. There were no errant pencil marks covering the walls and, as I passed the cafeteria, I saw sturdy wooden table set-ups and carpeting and (gasp) potted plants. Frankly, I would have been impressed enough to find out if their bathrooms were functioning and not a smelly glorified billboard for casual sex, but this was far fancier than I expected.

While I ogled the library that felt like the school had simply bought and moved the Great Library of Alexandria to here, I heard a sweet little voice pass by behind me. “Good morning~”

Whipping around, I saw a pair of female students waving back at me as they rounded the hallway of the corner. I was there early, as every teacher had to be, and I had not expected to see any students just yet. But I guess there were clubs or something these kids were going to. This was the first time I saw the school uniforms this place required. It seemed like the standard fare: pleated mid-thigh skirt for girls during these warmer months, white long sleeve blouse with collar, and light vest over that. The outfit was more modest than the kind of stuff some of my female students used to wear at my old job sometimes, but it still managed to make them look lovely and accentuate the womanly bodies they were growing into.

As I headed to the morning teacher meeting, I had to wonder two things: 1.) Did the designers of the girls’ uniform intend them fit them like a glove? and 2.) Did that girl who just passed me now wink at me?

============

Despite the increased formality of the teacher meeting, it was generally the same kind of thing I had to sit through everyday before now, except everyone had better looking clothes. I guess going out a week ago for better clothes was a good idea. My slacks, shirt, and vest combo had me looking downright dapper if I do say so myself. I got the idea from that greasy-haired guy from Inception that wasn’t Leonardo DiCaprio.

Finding my classroom took a bit of help from a fellow teacher, a nice guy who taught math on the same floor as me, and I found that I had to give myself one last quick breather before I entered the classroom. I put on my best smile and opened the door to a classroom with the usual scene of kids milling about and talking, except everyone was in uniform and everyone was a teenage girl.

“Good morning, class. Take your seats, please.”

The laughing turned into quieted giggling and the talking turned into murmurs and whispers while all the girls took their seats at the desks. It was right then that I fully realized how different this place felt. There was just about two dozen pairs of teenage eyes glued to me and all of them were burning holes in me. Before now I had never felt like this in front of a class. It was not nerves or anxiety from being in front of a class. It was nerves and anxiety because they weren’t just paying attention to me, they were eying me over and smiling all the while.

I’m no idiot. Despite my age (38), I was rather young-looking and worked out whenever I could, which was in stark contrast to advanced age of the rest of the faculty. Add that with the raging hormones of the teen years and how fast kids grew up nowadays, there were very few outcomes that did not involve these girls’ minds going someplace naughty. Now what was keeping my mind from doing the same? Not much. But I could try.

*ahem* “H-Hello, everyone!”

“Hello!” They all chimed back at me, cheery and happy. At the very least, all the girls were worth looking at. All of them were pretty and cute in their own way, and some of them were already knockouts; the rest of the girls were knockout ready to happen.

“I’m your new teacher, Mr. Cunningham. You can call me Jacob if you want. I look forward to teaching and getting to know all of you. To that end, is there any questions any of you would like to ask about me?”

Immediately a sea of hands shot up. I pointed to a brunette girl near the front.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked excitedly.

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