Charlotte left the teachers' lounge first. "Ready for the first day of high school?"
"No," Art grumbled. "Why didn't I retire? I'm again trying to teach English to insolent seniors who want only to graduate. They are sullen, arrogant, and indifferent to learning. They speak a bastardization no civilized human understands. I can't punish them. They consider getting sent to the office a break from class. Say, would you like to trade freshman science for senior English?"
"Dream on," Charlotte said with a laugh and turned down the side hall.
Art fumed the distance to his classroom. He sat, checked his desk's contents, and removed a freshly exterminated mouse. He again muttered, "Why didn't I retire?" and dropped it in the trash.
First bell. Five students entered and took back seats. The sixth, a cuddly-cute brunette with large eyes, a fully-stuffed low-necked white blouse, and a short plaid skirt, took the seat in front of his desk. Krystine Henderson. She shuffled papers and her textbook without lifting her head to look at him through her expensive designer-frame glasses.
Rich bitch, he recalled.
After the second bell rang he argued most of the thirty students to their seats. Why didn't I retire? he silently asked as he sat on the front edge of his desk and began his introduction. Krystine looked him in the eye, winked, and raised her textbook, exposing a note taped to its back cover.
She exposed more by separating her knees. She might be a true brunette. The razor stubble on the plump cleft mound was too short for confirmation. A tugging fingertip casually exposed considerable creamy cleavage, while her tongue wet her lips.
He forced his eyes to read the note: "I REALLY need an A in this class."
Art smiled. THAT'S why I didn't retire!
© Russell Hoisington 2006