The Teacher_(7)

I first met Ms. Michaels when my roommate, Cindy, and I happened to

run into her walking across campus. My roommate stopped her and

introduced me.

“How do you do,” said Ms. Michaels. She looked friendly enough and

paid attention to me, but there was something that made me uneasy

about her.

That was the only time I saw her until I signed up for her class. I

really didn’t need the class: I only needed one psych course for my

degree and I had already taken the introductory course. But Cindy

told me I ought to take another and told me that Ms. Michaels’s

course was the one to take. She finally convinced me to take it as an

elective. I did think it was a little strange that Cindy was so

vociferous about me specifically taking Ms. Michaels’s course.

Well Ms. Michaels turned out to be a fascinating teacher and she was

really nice to us too–always stopping to talk with any of us she ran

across. I stopped in her office one day to pick up an assignment and

we ended up chatting for an hour. I wished all my professors were

as easy to get along with as she was.

Well one day after class I stopped to talk to her… I guess I just felt

like talking, and we chatted for a bit and then she invited me out to

eat with her! I accepted readily and we ended up at a bar, eating

some appetizers.

We talked and talked that evening, and somehow we ended up talking

about men and dating. And then we were talking about sex. I had had

a couple of drinks and I guess I talked to her about intimate things

I’d never have told *anyone* any other time. But she was just so

easy to talk to.

“Well, have you *ever* felt an attraction to a female?” She was

asking me if I were bisexual? I didn’t remember how we had gotten

to this topic, but it didn’t seem out of place. I guess she interpreted

my pause as an answer. “Seriously,” she added.

“Well,” I answered.

“Oh, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she answered. She had guessed

my secret! “Some pretty coed, no doubt. Who has turned you on?”

“This is too embarrassing!”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s *good* for you to share it with *someone*.

You can trust me. Tell me who?”

“Well,” I paused again, “One of the cheerleaders–she’s a brunette.” I

had *never* told anyone this nor expected to. I *did* find myself

attracted to the cheerleader–I sometimes found myself thinking

about her at night, and when I’d see her, I’d actually feel a bit

excited.

“Do you *know* her?”

“Oh, no! I’ve… seen her at games.”

“So it’s just an attraction. It’s all right honey. Don’t be

embarrassed. It’s not at all uncommon for women.” She did talk me

into accepting that there was nothing horrible about a feeling or

two. But I hadn’t let on how much it affected me some of the time.

That was as far as our conversation went on that topic. I didn’t

think too much about it after that.

One afternoon after class on friday afternoon, Ms. Michaels stopped

me on the way out. “Come over to the lab for a minute,” she said. I

wondered what she wanted, but followed her over to another building

where the psychology labs were. We went through a couple of rooms,

turning on lights and finally came into a room where she stopped.