Temptations Of A Young Teacher free porn video

As my eyes opened, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above me. Remembering where I was, I turned my head to look at the other side of the bed. All I saw was a mass of light brunette hair, as the girl in my bed (our bed!) was still asleep, on her side facing away from me. Somehow, despite the mess the hair was in, it was still beautiful to me. She had managed to pull the single sheet completely onto her side and was now cuddling it, leaving her naked back and the top of her butt visible to me. I lightly ran my fingers down her spine, eliciting no reaction from within her deep sleep. I turned around and slowly sat up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed. I took a brief look around the room – it was empty save for more than a few stacks of cardboard boxes. Closing my eyes, I arched my back, stretching it while taking in a deep breath. After slowly exhaling, I got up and walked in the nude over to the curtain, parting it enough to see outside while not letting too much light into the dim room. While staring out at the sun rising over the new surroundings, I wondered to myself, ‘How did I get here?’




Chapter 1

I think it began with Chris’s twenty-fourth birthday, some three-and-a-half years ago.

Chris was a friend of mine from college. A group of us, all male, had stayed rather close after graduating; all living in or around the college we had gone to. For Chris’s birthday, we decided to all head out to a bar we used to frequent regularly from our college days. Including Chris and myself, there was five of us, with me being the designated driver, only because I had become famous in my college days for being able to drive perfectly well in a near-drunk state. I don’t know how I developed said skill, but I was often taken advantage of for it.

The bar was divided into four main areas. Walking in, the bar itself was right in front of you. On the right side of the bar was a gaming area with four dart boards, two billiards tables, and a variety of electronic games. On the left side of the bar there was a bunch of tables. Finally, there was a doorway near the tabled section that led to a back room that featured a decent-sized dance floor featuring dim lighting and its own DJ.

The five of us went straight to the bar, or at least tried to. Coming in around 11:30 on a Friday night, the bar was already packed, so we had to slowly work our way up to the bar to get our drinks. While waiting, Chris pointed to the corner booth in the tabled section, which used to be the place we’d always take over every Friday night when we were in college. “Remember when we were like that?”

There were eight people squished around the table – four guys, four girls. From where we were standing, I could see the four guys and the first two of the girls next to them, the last two girls I could only see the back of their heads, one a blonde with short hair, the other a light brunette with hair down to her ass. There was no way anyone in the group was 21, being 20 at most, and probably all 18 or 19. But then again, we regularly came to this bar before we were 21 with no problems at all. I guess they hadn’t improved their IDing.

We all laughed while reminiscing about the times we had at the bar, chasing girls, getting smashed, stumbling back to campus, vomiting in the streets some nights. Traditional college fair.

And then we reached the bar. We got a round of double shots of Canadian Club whiskey, an old favorite of our college days, and then all got a beer and headed for the dart boards.

I don’t really remember the details of the next hour or so. As we played darts, word got out that it was Chris’s birthday, and everyone in the gaming area (especially a few old regulars who remembered us) started buying him shot after shot. About half the time our whole group was included in the round, leading to a very cheap night for all of us. But before one in the morning had come, Chris was already in the bathroom puking it all back up. We figured that meant that it was just about time to go. However, I didn’t want Chris puking in my car, and I had drank more than I meant to so I wasn’t quite ready to drive. So I headed to the bar to get some water for both him and me.

The bartender looked at me strange when I asked for two glasses of water to go, but I had tipped him so well that night that he didn’t question it. As he walked off, I heard a girl right next to me order a Long Island ice tea off the other bartender. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but the kind of familiar that I didn’t want to check on as I didn’t want to get recognized.

As it turned out that didn’t matter.

“Mr. O?” I felt doomed the second I heard that. Looking back, I wonder why she didn’t feel more awkward than me. But sure enough, I turned, and there was Kim, a girl from the last period earth science class I taught. Mr. O is what the kids call me at school, Brad Orlon is my full name.

“Hi–” was all I got out before she interrupted me.

“It’s me! Stephanie!” The Stephanie was dragged out forcibly.

I looked at her strangely for a moment, and Kim just looked down and pulled an ID halfway out of her pocket. I understood immediately, motioning for her to put it back. “Right, Stephanie…. Well, ummm, what are you doing here?”

She proceeded to tell me some story about how her brother owed her and she, in some way, managed to talk her brother into bringing her and a couple of friends out to this bar with them. Apparently they were the crowd in the corner stall that we had noticed before.

I should break in and explain a few points here. I teach at an urban high school about twenty minutes from the city, an easy thirty or more from the bar we were now at. So it seemed odd to me that I would see a student here. Also, I teach ninth grade earth science there. Ninth grade. As this was still in the first half of the school year, that means most my students, including Kim, are fourteen. Fourteen! Forget what the hell she is doing here – the question is how in the hell did she get in?

In defense of Kim, she looks much older than she is. She could easily pass for 18, but no way 21. Then again, I guess you only have to look 18 to get into this place. She’s easily the tallest girl in her class at what I’d guess was 5’8”. She had long light brunette hair, a very well-defined face, and an ample bosom. She looked like she was on the opposite end of puberty than the rest of the kids in her class. She was also quite skinny – I’d guess around 110-115, no more than 120 tops. I had heard from other teachers that her brother also was very mature (physically at least) for his age, but I never knew him, as he was before my time, this being only my second year at the school.

Honestly, looking back now, Kim was very attractive physically. While I had never thought about hooking up with any students (I mean, I didn’t have problems getting girls my own age, why should I look for younger girls?), I still could see which girls were good looking and which ones weren’t. Thing is, while Kim in many ways was probably one of the hottest girls in her grade, I had never put her on that list. I guess the way she acted influenced my judgment. She had the ditziest way of talking I had ever heard, always high pitched and drawn out. It made her sound like a complete idiot, which was a complete turn-off to me. She was also always obsessed with her looks, always having a mirror out, some kind of make-up or brush, stuff like that. That didn’t help in the looking semi-intelligent department either.

But that ridiculous voice was now talking to me about her brother and something about her mom getting mad at him or something. Honestly, I wasn’t really paying attention; I was just looking for an out. Both of us had long since gotten our drinks, and she was clearly drunk, just rambling on about her mom or brother or whatever with me nodding along to not seem rude.

Finally my out came. I guess she finished talking about whatever and, after a brief pause, asked me, “Why do you have water?”

“You see, a friend of mine, Chris, it’s his birthday, he’s puking in the bathroom so–”

“Brad, buddy! I’ll take those!” The interruption came from one of my friends, Rock we called him, as he grabbed both waters out of my hands and turned to walk away.

“Hey, wait a second!” I grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “I’m trying to–”

“Damn right you’re trying to!” Rock eyed Kim a few feet back. “Listen man, she’s hot, young but hot, the rest of us ain’t gettin’ shit tonight, so we’ll call a cab and take care of Chris. You go tap that, man!”

Young! He had no idea! Probably thought she was 18 or 19, not 14! “Hold up, Rock. Listen, she’s my–”

Cut off again!

“She’s your what? Your piece of ass? That’s what I’m trying to tell you, man! Now get back there!” And with that he shoved his shoulder into me sending me back the few feet towards Kim, who apparently had just stood there watching us, though unable to hear us. Rock then turned to Kim and asked, “You like whiskey?”

“Yeah,” was her response, which came out sounding more like a question than an answer, but I could barely tell over her ditzy voice.

Rock laughed, immediately turned to the bartender, who apparently had gotten in front of us again, and ordered, “Round of the CC for these two!” The bartender just smiled and pulled out a couple shot glasses and the bottle of Canadian Club while Rock put one of the waters down, pulled out a ten dollar bill and threw it on the table.

Kim immediately picked up her shot and held it up, obviously waiting for me to toast. I turned and gave Rock the most evil look I could come up with, then grabbed the shot, clinked hers and downed it, slamming the glass on the table. As soon as it was down, I felt Rock’s hand slam into my back as he announced, “Why don’t you two go dance?”

Kim excitedly said, “Sure,” while Rock pushed me in the direction of the dance floor. I once again gave him a look of sheer anger as I continued walking towards the dance floor with Kim. I could just barely hear Rock tell the bartender to keep the change and saw him looking at me and laughing as we entered the dance floor.

As we got in with the other people on the dance floor, Kim started swaying her hips back and forth while I just kind of nervously moved with the beat. I’m not much of a dancer to begin with, let alone when I’m drunk and terrified of dancing with my own student.

It didn’t take long for Kim to ask, “Soooo, what was that all about?”

“I guess my friends are going to take Chris home in a cab, leaving me here.”

“Why?” The way she said it sounded like she already knew the answer, which normally would have really pissed me off. However, having had her in class and knowing how she talks, I knew that was just the way she said ‘why.’ I still figured she had some kind of idea though, so I thought a blunt answer would be best.

“Well, I think Rock expects me to hook up with you, which, no offense, is not going to happen.”

Kim replied in her high voice with a slight laugh, “Of course it isn’t!”

There was no talking for a moment while she continued dancing and I continued, well, whatever sorry excuse for dancing I was already doing. Eventually she said, “That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun though!”

The comment caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

Kim laughed. “Lighten up Mr. O! You’re like freaking out over there! Just dance… like this!” With that last comment, Kim grabbed my hips and started moving them back and forth. I however, was still nervous and my body was stiff and jerky, which kept making Kim laugh. I was also beginning to note just how drunk Kim was.

Finally, I spoke my thoughts. “You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

“Of course not,” she said, looking up at me for a moment, “I think I’d get in more trouble than you!”

While I don’t think that was true, we both laughed at that and, for some reason, I finally loosened up and started dancing more naturally.

The dancing continued for awhile, and we started talking during it. I should also add that our dancing wasn’t anything bad, like there was no grinding, no inappropriate touching. In fact, our hands never touched the other after she had let go of my hips, only our hips and legs occasionally bumped into the others’.

It was close to two in the morning when the DJ abruptly changed pace, announcing he was “givin’ those workin’ hard out there a break,” and played a slow-paced R&B song. It really wasn’t danceable, and to this day I wonder what the hell he was thinking. Most the girls on the dance floor just did some slow dances on/with each other while the guys just stood there doing nothing.

As I looked around the floor, Kim announced, “Well, this sucks.” I agreed without looking at her. I was then completely shocked when I felt her hands on me for the first time since she had started swaying my hips. She had wrapped them around my back and moved up to me, resting her head on my chest, looking down and to the side.

Suddenly the nervousness from earlier was back. I didn’t know what to do. I’d like to think that if I was more sober, I would have pulled away. Instead, apparently thinking this was innocent enough, I wrapped my arms around her back and just started swaying back and forth with her. Slow dancing with a fourteen-year-old. Real classy, Brad.

When the song ended, I stopped moving and looked down at Kim, who still had her head on my chest. Then, suddenly, without warning, she turned her head up and pressed her lips to mine. All I remember of the kiss was my eyes immediately going wide in shock, then seeing her closed eyes, and closing my own. The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds. There was no tongue. Just a simple peck.

As she pulled away, my senses came back to me. I opened my eyes to see Kim looking up at me. Not smiling, not frowning, just looking. I decided that was enough. “You should probably go now.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. She turned and walked off the dance floor and out of the room. I worked my way to a wall and just stood there for a couple minutes, trying to convince myself I had done nothing wrong. Eventually I decided whether or not I had done something wrong, staying there was not helping me figure anything out.

I didn’t see Kim, or her brother and friends, as I entered the bar area. There was a new group of people in the corner stall, and none that I saw from the original eight, including Kim, appeared to be anywhere in the room. I let out an exhale; I had been kinda worried that I’d have to say something to Kim again, but that wasn’t the case now that they’d left. Well, at least until I see her in my class.

I headed towards the door.

I didn’t even look around as I left, I just headed straight for my car. But no more than ten feet out the door I stopped abruptly.

Behind me, someone had asked, “You need a ride home, honey?”

That wasn’t unusual. No, it was the response, the scream of, “Go away!” that came from who he was talking to that caused me to stop. It was Kim. I turned around, ready to run and attack the guy she was talking to, but he had already started walking away. Maybe he was really just offering a ride, nothing more. Nonetheless, Kim was still leaning against the wall of the building looking angry, and on the verge of tears. I headed over to her. Kim noticed me and looked up.

Without me prompting her, she just announced, “My brother left, and I have no money for a cab.”

Big, glassy puppy-dog eyes were staring at me. There was a momentary pause as we just looked at each other. Finally, I smiled and said, “Alright.” I abruptly turned and walked towards my car. A few steps away, I turned around to see Kim still leaning against the wall staring at me. “Well, you coming?”

Kim forced a smile and walked up behind me, following me to my car. We said nothing as we walked to the car. I kept trying to defend my actions – I mean, if I did not drive her home, how would she get there? With no money, she’d end up either hitching a ride with someone who could easily take advantage of her, or she’d end up with the cops, which could be bad for me if she happened to mention me. This was the only way, I decided.

After getting in the car, I asked her where she lived. I recognized the area as one of the worse areas of the district I teach in and headed off in that direction.

The first couple minutes passed in complete silence. Worried that Kim might be feeling awkward, I told her she could change the music if she wanted, trying to make some semblance of conversation.

Kim’s response was, “I hate my brother!” She then broke into tears and proceeded to rant about her entire life. How her brother, Frank, is a big, dumb jock that does nothing but sleeps around with girls from the high school, and apparently even some of Kim’s friends from middle school. Her dad, Rico, thinks this is great and never fails to brag about his son. That is, when he’s around. Her dad does not live with her, her brother, and her mother, who he was never married to. Her mother, who she calls Karyn – not mom, is an insecure alcoholic. She got knocked up her senior year of high school with Frank. Rico refused to support her in anyway, but Karyn “loved” him, if you consider love to be sex. Rico comes to visit only when he needs to get laid, and Karyn always opens the door – and her legs – for him. Then, when he leaves, as he always does, she drinks even more. Kim presumes that one of these times he came over is how she was conceived. Karyn was pregnant twice more – at least that Kim knew of – but drank herself to a miscarriage each time. Kim used to try and stop her mom from drinking, but after getting beat a couple times, stopped doing that. She hadn’t talked to her father in two years. Every time he’d come over, she’d go to her room and put on music so that she couldn’t hear him either bragging about his son’s promiscuity or fucking Karyn. Kim knew that Rico sold drugs, as that is how her brother gets weed. She started smoking herself one day when her brother was smoking with her mother and they made fun of her when she said she didn’t want to try it. So she smoked with them whenever she ended up around them when they were smoking. Kim also began drinking her mom’s alcohol when she was ten. About a year ago, Karyn stopped buying Kim new clothes. All of Kim’s clothes now, except for her panties, were hand-downs from her mom. Even her bras were now shared with her mom, now that they’re the same size. So Kim ended up dressing in clothes that would be considered slutty every day, because that’s what her mom likes to wear. Because of the way she looked, people started treating her like she was dumb and easy, so she started to act like that herself to fit their expectations, and she ended up losing all of her friends from when she was younger and was now friends with a group of people that only like to talk about sex and drugs and drinking.

Needless to say, I was blown away by this story. I had no idea what to say to her. Luckily, she rarely even paused to take a breath, let alone allow me to speak. She just kept rambling on, getting angrier by the moment.

About thirty minutes after we had left, I pulled up to a park at the end of the street she lived on. I had barely said a word. There were points where I almost didn’t believe her, but her emotions, along with the fact that similar stories are not unheard of in my school, convinced me. Kim stopped talking as the car stopped moving. I looked over at Kim and watched her take a deep breath, gaining control of herself.

“Sorry,” she said, not looking over at me.

“There’s nothing to-”

“Don’t tell anyone any of this, okay?” She finally looked over at me, hers eyes pleading with me.

“Of course I won’t!”

She smiled. “Thanks.” She paused, then continued, “You know, for that, and the ride.” Kim then turned and opened the door to leave. I reached out and grabbed the wrist closest to me.

“Kim,” I began. She turned around to look at me, pulling the door lightly closed. “Listen, I can tell the school what’s going on and they can pull you from that home and give you a better one.” Kim just frowned and shook her head in response. I took a deep breath, then continued, “Okay, then I won’t. But you gotta know you can make it through this. Don’t give up. You’re a smart girl! You shouldn’t drink and smoke, and do keep your grades up. In three and a half years, you could graduate high school and go to college, moving out of that house forever. Just don’t give up. I know it’s hard – well, I don’t, I’ve never been through something like that, but don’t let them win. Don’t let them keep you there forever. You can get out if you want to. I truly believe that.”

There was a long pause when I finished. I started to panic. Had I said something wrong? Did I offend her? Why was she just staring at me like I was crazy?

And then Kim smiled. It was a strange smile, a smile of thanks, but also of pity, like I didn’t know what I was talking about. Before I knew what was happening, Kim had leaned in to kiss me again, just a simple peck on the lips again, though this time I felt a flick of her tongue on my upper lip as she pulled away.

And she was gone. Without saying another word, she pulled away from the kiss, turned around, got out of the car, shut the door, and walked towards her house. I watched until she entered her house, which was really run down. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or disappointed when she entered without having looked back once. I ignored it and headed back to my place.

During the drive, and for a few minutes after entering my house, I tried to figure out what had happened and what I was going to do about it. I eventually decided I would do nothing. I would hope that Kim tells no one and we would both forget about it. Anything else was out of my power. And so I headed to sleep, though I could not get to sleep that night without getting off to thoughts of Kim first, which left me feeling very guilty in the morning.




Chapter 2

I was very anxious about seeing Kim in school after that, but as it turned out, there was no reason to be. She acted like nothing had ever happened. Well, almost.

I should explain the kind of teacher I am, and the kind of student Kim was. While I take teaching very seriously, I think the most effective way to teach is to have an amiable relationship with the students, so that they want to pay attention and learn. As such, I often joke around with my students. I sometimes inoffensively make fun of them, and they’ll do it right back. The students seem to enjoy it, and they’ll often drop by my study halls just to chill and talk. This may sound too laid back, but the scores my students get on the state tests last year prove that I’m doing something right.

Kim was always an easy target to make fun of. Though she came across sounding stupid the way she talked, I had come to know that she was actually pretty smart. She generally knew what was going on in my classes, and was one of few that participated seriously in class on occasion (most my students just joked around when they participated, which I didn’t mind, but I like having a student sound smart every now and then). I had talked to other teachers before this whole thing went down too, and apparently she did well enough in their classes too, so it wasn’t like she was just good in science. Well, maybe good is the wrong word. She was smart enough, but lacked common sense. She put forth minimal effort, rarely doing homework or projects. She got good grades on her tests, and that kept her grades up in the low 80s, some in the high 70s, but that was it. She did practically no work outside of class. I guess I know why now. However, before knowing why, Kim had been an easy target to make fun of in class. I often imitated how she talked, drawing laughs from the rest of the class while only getting a mean smirk from her along with a rolling of the eyes. At the beginning of the year I had actually felt bad about it, but as she continued to not put any effort in doing work outside of class, I lost all my pity for her. Well, until this whole issue arose.

I should also mention that while many students seemed to like me, Kim did not. I can’t really blame her, given how much I made fun of her, but she was one of few students that really did not seem to like me. A lot of her friends would come up and talk to me in the halls or after school or in my study halls, but she had never talked socially with me before, which made that night at the bar all the more shocking.

The whole situation changed after that night though.

That first day back, I had been panicking all day fearing what would happen in my last period earth science class and what Kim would say. Kim had slightly alleviated my fears throughout the day as she walked by me a few times in the hall, and didn’t seem to be different in the least. She didn’t look at me, which was nothing new, but she also didn’t go out of her way to avoid me, so nothing looked suspicious. She just talked to her friends as she walked by. This led me to believe that things were going to be okay, but I knew I wouldn’t know until I had her in class.

Sure enough, class went pretty normally. I acted normal, began the period with pointless conversations with the class, and then got into the lesson. Kim sat at her table, slightly off of the center of the room, talking with her friends on occasion but mostly paying attention. Absolutely no difference. I asked a few questions throughout the class, and when she answered one, that was the only time I noticed a difference. She gave me the correct answer, in her stupid ditzy-sounding voice, and I had a momentary panic. Normally, when she does that, I respond imitating her voice. The class was even waiting for me to do it. However, for once, I didn’t want to offend Kim, but I was more worried about acting differently towards her and someone magically figuring out what had happened. Paranoia at its best.

So I responded, “That is, like, a really good answer Kim!” It was high pitched and drawn out, just the way she talks. The class laughed while I watched Kim for her usual reaction – the mean smirk and the roll of the eyes. It didn’t come. Rather, she just smiled at me, as if she was now in on the joke and thought it was funny.

I swear, all my anxiety and paranoia that had built up since the night at the bar a couple days earlier flowed out of me with that smile. I focused on teaching and finished that lesson. When the final bell of the day rang, I just watched as the students piled out. Kim didn’t even give me a second look on the way out.

Over the course of the next few months, a couple changes slowly occurred. First, Kim slowly started joining her friends when they’d come to talk to me. We never mentioned the night again, we just joked around like a normal student and teacher, just like everyone else. She’d now say “hi” when she walked by in the hallway, and she would join in laughing in class when I made fun of her. The other change, which was more subtle, was that she started doing her homework. Not just for my class, but for other classes too. In fact, I didn’t even notice it until her math teacher brought it up to me. Sure enough, she had not missed an assignment in my class, or in the math class, and I’m guessing not in any of her other classes, since our night at the bar.

Things were normal. Better than normal really. And I thought they’d stay that way. Then fate threw its hand in the mix again.




Chapter 3

Shortly after the beginning of the fourth quarter, some speaker came in to give a presentation to all the students in the school. I think it was supposed to be some kind of inspirational speaker type of thing. The whole school filed into the auditorium. The assembly began during a period I had off, so I just hung out at the doors directing students in, making sure no one walked off trying to skip out. After it began, I just hung out at the doors listening. The guy actually wasn’t too bad, from the little I got to hear of him. I doubted he was changing anyone’s life in that room, but I had heard much worse.

Barely ten minutes after the guy began, I saw the principal of the school walking up the aisle I was in with another student. In the dim lighting, I couldn’t tell who the student was with her (yes, the principal was a woman) until they got about halfway up the aisle. Of course, it ended up being Kim, who was now 15, as her birthday had been a month earlier. Obviously, Kim had done something if the principal was pulling her from the assembly. I tried to ignore them as they approached, but as it turned out, I wasn’t so lucky.

“Mr. Orlon, could you come with me please?” I immediately panicked when I heard the principal’s request. That night at the bar, which I had practically forgotten about, suddenly came shooting back into my head. I suddenly began wondering if she had somehow found out about it.

I just nodded and followed the principal, with Kim in tow, out of the auditorium and down the hall to the in-school suspension room.

“Mr. Orlon, Kim here seems to believe the world is wrapped around her and has no respect for the speaker, talking continuously and refusing requests from myself and other teachers to stop.” I tried to hide my sigh of relief. The principal continued, “I need to get back to the auditorium, so could you keep Kim here until the speaker is done? I’ll come back and deal with her after it’s done.”

“Of course,” I replied.

“Thank you.” And with that the principal turned and left the ISS room, shutting the door behind her.

I watched her leave, and the second the door closed, I heard Kim scream, “Fuck you bitch!” I turned around and looked at her, having never seen her as angry as she looked now. The only time I’d heard her scream like that before was when she was yelling at the guy offering her a ride at the bar to “Go away!” Luckily, the ISS room was soundproofed (don’t ask me why, I guess it was done in the 70s – it’s a running joke amongst the staff that our students are so bad that the teachers soundproofed the room so that they could just throw the bad kids unsupervised into it and forget about them). If the room hadn’t been soundproofed, the principal would surely have heard that, and who knows what would have happened from there.

After a few seconds of shock, I regained my composure and asked the obvious question: “What’s wrong?”

I don’t know what ran through Kim’s head at that point. Maybe she had forgotten I was even there. She had been staring at the door as if she could burn it with her eyes, and she suddenly jerked her head to look at me when she heard my voice. She stared for a second and her look faded from anger to sadness. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, paused, then closed her mouth and went back to looking angry and simply responded, “Nothing.” She then pulled a chair from one of the desks, slammed her body into it, and sat there.

“You know, if you need to talk, I’m here.” No response. I let out a sigh, and then headed over to the ISS supervisor’s desk. Even the kids currently in ISS got to go to this assembly, so it was just me and her in there. I went through the desk drawers, eventually finding a stash of magazines. I pulled out a Time and started reading. God knows I had nothing else to do. The speaker was supposed to be talking for an hour, followed by a half hour question and answer session. I guessed I’d probably finish the whole magazine by the time it was over.

Every now and then, I heard Kim move. Crossing her arms, kicking the legs of the desk she was at, slamming her head and arms down into the desk. She never said a word though, and never turned to look in my direction.

I was in the middle of some stupid political story about half an hour later, when out of the blue I heard, quietly spoken, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted me to hear it, “Do you really think I can get out of here?”

I was totally taken aback by the question. I looked over at Kim and she had not even turned around to face me. This was the first reference to the night I had driven her home from the bar since, well, since that night. She had never brought it up, and neither had I. I could tell the girl was having some kind of trouble though, and I felt really bad for her, so I was quick to respond.

“Of course you can. I told you before, you’re a smart girl. You’ve gotta know that. Just stay positive. I know it’s gotta be hard given everything you told me before, and I wish I could help with that, but I can’t.” I paused as Kim turned around to look at me, no emotion whatsoever in her eyes. “Listen Kim, you grades went up a lot this past quarter. Keep that going, and who knows what can happen. You’ll definitely be able to make it to college. Hell, maybe your mom will even catch on and support you–”

I didn’t get to finish that last statement as Kim interrupted with what can only be described as an angry laugh. She followed that with a muttering of, “That’s fucking bullshit.” Damn she had a mouth on her right now! I had never heard her curse in school before, and the only time I had even heard her curse at all was when she had described her home life to me when I drove her home from the bar, and even then they were few and interspersed.

I took her comment defensively, and responded, “I’m just trying to say that things can change. Maybe if your mom sees your grades have gone up and stay up she’ll support you more, and fight for you to get to college.”

There was a long silence. In retrospect, I’m amazed she hadn’t interrupted and yelled at me right then. Instead, she let me finish, and just sat and stared at me, giving me a look as if she pitied me, as if I was ignorant and didn’t know what I was talking about. I think she knew I was trying to help, but I also think she thought I was clueless. I just sat and waited for her to say something.

It must’ve been about a minute after I had stopped when she finally mumbled to herself, “That’ll never happen.” She laughed to herself, in a kind of self-depreciating manner. It became abundantly obvious to me at that moment that the girl had absolutely no faith in herself. Despite all she had going for her – smarts, looks, her personality (not including the way she speaks) – Kim clearly believed she was doing nothing with her life and that that was never going to change.

I felt obligated to say something, though I wasn’t sure what to say. “Look you don’t know–”

That was all I got out. I must have said the wrong thing, because she flipped out. Kim suddenly got fiercely angry and began yelling at me, again making me thankful for the soundproof room.

“I don’t know what? I don’t know that my mom will never change? I don’t know how my mom’s going to react to everything? I don’t know that she’ll always hate me? Hate me! She fucking hates me!”

She paused for a second, tears had begun rolling down her face, but she was still furious and ignored them. I felt like shit for having set this off. I tried to apologize after just about every sentence she finished, but she always started again before I could get it out, or at least before she could hear it. That happened again here, as she quickly started again.

“I don’t even know why! She fucking loves Frank! Is it because I don’t get high with them? I don’t drink with them? You told me I’d do better… that I was better than… that I was too smart to… whatever you said you told me not to do that with them! And I stopped! And what do I get? Nothing!”

She paused again, and I tried unsuccessfully to apologize, but she started again too quickly.

“Not that that’s anything new. She always hated me! And why? Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s cause I’m a girl and she never wanted a girl! Maybe she never wanted me! Maybe I got in the way of her and Rico! Maybe she doesn’t like me because Rico doesn’t like me! God knows he also fucking loves Frank!”

She paused and again I tried to apologize, though to no avail. Her face was soaked with tears at this point as she continued screaming at me.

“I don’t know! I don’t know? I don’t know that Karyn won’t support me? I don’t know that Karyn won’t fucking be happy for me? God knows I fucking tried! She wanted me to smoke, I smoked! She wanted me to wear her clothes, I’m wearing her trashy clothes!” She motioned her hands over her body during this last comment to point out that she was wearing her mom’s clothes which consisted of a tight blue tank top with white bra straps showing at the top, a jean skirt, and some ridiculous looking shoes (at least they were ridiculous to me). This motion took a mere second as she continued, “I’ve tried everything to fucking please her! She doesn’t love me! She’ll never love me! No one loves me! You think I haven’t tried!”

There was a pause again, longer than before. I had given up trying to apologize at this point. I just stared at her with heartfelt eyes, that I could feel tears welling up in. I didn’t know what to say. Kim, meanwhile, had turned her head to the side. She looked thoughtful for a second, took a deep breath, and continued, now at more of a talk than a yell.

“You think I haven’t tried. I worked these past months. I got my grades up. I thought maybe she’d be proud. I don’t know why I thought it. It was stupid for me to think that. I should’ve known. I should’ve known she’ll always hate me.” She turned her head towards me and gave me a sad smile. “She’ll never love me. She doesn’t care. I showed her my report card a couple days ago. She never really pays much attention to them, but she always looks at them and gives me crap for not trying. So I tried. You said I could get out if I tried, so I tried. I went from a 79 average to a 92.” She had gotten a 95 in my class. “So for once, I took my report card and gave it to her, instead of just letting her find it. What does she do? She laughs at me. She calls me a nerd. She says I must want to fuck skinny guys with bad hair and broken glasses. I tell her I’m thinking of going to college. She gets pissed. She says, ‘No daughter of mine is going to college! What, you think you’re better than me?’ I try to defend myself and she gets more pissed. Starts yelling and screaming. Finally, she takes the coffee mug she’s drinking whatever whiskey or vodka or whatever she was drinking and chucks it at me. This…” She pauses and pulls up the left side of her tank top to expose her body from the top of her skirt to the bottom of her white bra and dead on her side, right above the hip, is a giant purple and black bruise surrounded by some yellow and brown. I’d never seen a bruise that looked half as bad as she had. “This is what I get for trying. This is what I get for trying to be a good daughter. This is what I get for being good.”

She finally stopped. I’m still staring at the bruise on her side. I feel tears drip down my cheeks. I had no idea how bad her situation was. I had no idea what she was up against. Eventually, I muster up the courage to apologize.

“I’m sorry.” I pause. “I didn’t know.” I look up at her face. The tear lines reflect off her face. And I’m confused, as she’s giving me a look of pity. As if she felt bad for me, when it should obviously be the other way around.

I suddenly realize I have no idea what to do and that I’m in over my head. I stand up and take the few steps over to the door. “I’ll get the social worker, we’ll get you out of there.”

“No!” I hear, but I don’t believe it, nor do I believe the hand that just grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. I turn around and she’s right in front of me, I stare into her eyes, which are now pleading with me.

“Why not?”

Kim looks away. “I don’t want to deal with it.” I start to respond but she turns her head towards me and looks in me eyes, pleading again. “I know this. I can deal with this. I don’t know if I can deal with something else. You said I can make it through this, you said I can make it out of here, you said I can make it to college and leave it forever.” I nodded. “Then I can do that this way. I know I can make it through her. It’s what I know, I know how to deal with it, I don’t…” Her voice choked up as she continuted. “I don’t know if I can do anything else. I don’t know if I can be normal. And what if I go somewhere else and they hate me too? I couldn’t take that! I couldn’t take someone else not loving me. If I was put in another home that didn’t like me, I don’t think I could take it. I need to believe that somewhere out there, someone cares for me. God knows no one does now. And if another home didn’t, it would ruin that dream. I mean, no one cares about me! My family obviously doesn’t. My friends don’t, they just want to look pretty and get boys. None of my boyfriends have even cared about me. They just want to kiss me, feel my tits, and put it in me. Do you know, I can’t remember being hugged? Ever. Not from my family, not from my friends, not from my boyfriends. I don’t know if anyone has ever just hugged me because they loved me! I really–”

I don’t know what came over me. I felt for this girl and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I reached behind her and pulled her into my body. And held her. Kim just stood there at first. Frozen, like she didn’t know what to do. And then she broke. Her arms reached around and squeezed my back tighter then I think I’d ever been squeezed before. Her head fell against my shoulder as she began violently crying. I said nothing. I brought one hand up from her back and placed it on the back of her head. And I just held her. Comforting her. Maybe being the first person to have ever done so.

I don’t know how long we were like that, nor how long the yelling had gone on for, but by the time we pulled apart, after Kim (and I) had stopped crying, there was less than thirty minutes left of the assembly.

When we separated, I went back to the supervisor’s desk and Kim went back to where she had been sitting. She turned the chair towards me (though we were a good eight feet or so apart) and fixed her shirt, which was still pulled up a bit on the left side.

And then we talked. We talked about colleges. We talked about financial aid. I explained how some scholarships worked and what grades were needed for them. I explained how loans and federal aid worked and what she would need to do for those. I told her that when the principal came back, she should probably apologize. I also told her that if she ever needed to talk to someone again, that she could always drop by my room after school. I’d always be available to help her.

We were back to talking about colleges when the principal abruptly opened the door. She saw Kim facing me and smiling while I was talking to her. She gave us both a strange look, and I suddenly panicked, wondering what she thought was going on, but before either Kim or I could say something, the principal simply stated, “Thank you, Mr. Orlon. You can go back to your room now.”

And so I left and went about my normal day, hoping that she thought nothing was wrong. I even got through my last period class with Kim without any problems.

As I was packing up at the end of the day though, the principal walked into my room. After the brief ‘hello’s, she asked what happened with Kim. I told her that we just talked about some things, like why she was acting out, she had some problems at home (I didn’t go into details), and that she was already looking towards college. The principal just nodded. When she didn’t leave or say anything more, I asked her why she was asking. She told me that Kim apologized to her, and that she felt really bad, and apparently Kim had even apologized to the speaker on her own time, or so the speaker had told her. The principal said she had never seen such a quick change in a student before, and that she let Kim off with no disciplinary action because she had never been in trouble before. And then the principal left.

And that was the end of it.

Nothing happened for the rest of that school year. Much like we had pretended the night at the bar hadn’t happened, we now pretended that the hour plus we had spent in the ISS room hadn’t happened either. Kim was friendly enough in class, and she’d occasionally drop by and talk to me with some of her friends, but she never took me up on the offer to talk to me after school. She did, however, finish the last quarter with a 99 and even got a 98 on the final. When I looked up her other grades, I found that she had a 96 overall for the final quarter, and a 91 for the year (which is damn impressive given her 81 and 78 averages from the first two quarters, luckily with finals counting double in the final average, she was able to pull off over a 90). I was impressed. I was proud of her. And I thought my time with Kim was over.




Chapter 4

I didn’t see Kim once over the summer. I started a relationship with a girl a couple weeks into the summer. She was a bartender and we seemed to enjoy each other. However, after I started up teaching in the fall again, we realized that we never saw each other and, since neither one of us was likely to give up our profession, that we probably wouldn’t work out and thus called it off a few weeks into the school year.

My new students were actually pretty good. There were the rotten few, there always are, but overall they seemed to be easier to work with than my past two years. Things were going pretty well teaching.

Shortly after the first quarter ended, we had a school conference day. One of the main themes was coming up with ways to help students with their grades. There was a bunch of the traditional ideas, such as make the lessons more interesting, have the school buy more materials so we could be more hands on, crap like that. I suggested at one point that since a lot of the students have troubled home lives and can’t do work at home, we could have a homework session after school where students could come for extra help for their school work. Honestly, I just said it to look like I was participating. The idea came from a school a friend of mine teaches at that does exactly that. Our school, while often having teachers stay after if students want help, had no real central homework help program. The teachers and administrators debated the idea, along with all the others, for the rest of the day. As is the tradition at these school conferences, absolutely nothing was accomplished at the end of the day.

However, a couple weeks later, the principal dropped by my room and asked about the plan again. She said that she’d run it by the superintendent and a few members of the board and they liked the idea. They wanted to know if I was willing to run the program. At this point, I thought I had just dug myself a hole I couldn’t get out of. I was up for tenure that year, and while I was pretty sure I would get it, I didn’t want to do anything to hurt my chances like, per se, shutting down a program I suggested. So I accepted. Then the principal told me she had allocated a pay rate of $80 per hour for me for the homework program. Suddenly I was really glad I had accepted it.

As I worked the details out, the program turned out to be really nice for me. I asked around to see if any other teachers wanted to help, but they all seemed to have no interest. So it basically worked out that I was to spend every day I could after school for two hours just chilling in my room helping kids with homework. If I couldn’t make it for some reason, I just had to let the school secretary know before the day was out, and she’d make an announcement that it was cancelled. Basically, I was free to set my own schedule. Of course, at $160 a day ($80 an hour for two hours) I tried to make it as much as I could.

The first day was interesting. The program was set up for students in all grades, so I had a range of students from freshmen to seniors. I knew most the students, as earth science was a required class. I wasn’t around when the seniors were freshmen though, so I didn’t know any of them. What was really interesting though, was that none of them really wanted my help. They just used the time to do the work, and generally if anyone needed help, someone from the grade above would help them. While I certainly wouldn’t say that is how most high school students behave, I guess that the kind that are attracted to a homework-help program are generally nicer and more willing to help than most. So basically my job was to sit there and do nothing, often correcting work I would otherwise have to do at home or just talking to the students.

And, of course, one of the students that came on that first day was Kim. I hadn’t seen her in nearly six months, so we had some excited ‘hello’s and ‘how are you doing’s. Since no one seemed to want help, Kim ended up coming up and talking to me for most of the time. I found out that she had gotten a job over the summer as a bagger at the local grocery store (I guess there’s not much opportunity out there for 15 year olds looking for jobs). It seemed to have worked out great for Kim though for a variety of reasons. For one, it got her out of the apartment and away from her family. Two, it was a crappy job, so her mom seemed to love it since she could make fun of Kim for it, which Kim really didn’t give a shit about, but pretended to be angry about as she figured that’s the reaction her mom was looking for. And three, it got Kim her own source of money, which she had never had before. She spent most the money buying clothes for herself, so she didn’t have to wear her mother’s clothes anymore. I guess she bought a lot of similar style clothes anyhow as she didn’t want to freak out her friends by completely changing styles, but they were slightly more conservative, and far less trashy. Plus she was actually wearing real shoes – like sneakers – instead of whatever crappy trash shoes her mom had made her wear last year. As a funny side note, Kim later told me (and was quite embarrassed telling me and I’m not quite sure why she told me) that when she was out buying clothes, she discovered that she had never worn a bra that actually fit her before. She had never actually been sized, she just always wore what her mother gave her. Well, when she was shopping she got sized. Being a guy, I’m not sure how this whole thing works, but apparently she was a 36D but for the past year had been wearing her mom’s 38Cs. She said, which I imagine is quite true, that she didn’t know that wearing a bra could actually be comfortable, that she always thought they were supposed to be uncomfortable, as that had been her experience.

Anyhow, it seems Kim still worked at the grocery store during the school year, a couple nights a week and weekends. And she seemed happy. Like, honestly happy. Which I never saw the year before. She would fake being happy, and there were some days that were better than others, but never was she genuinely happy. And so, I was happy for her.

Kim became a regular to the program. She was there every single day. Usually she would have a friend or two with her, but sometimes she’d come alone. Sometimes she spent the whole time doing her work, but most days she just sat and talked with either her friends or with me. In fact, a lot of people started coming to the program and not doing work. I never complained. As long as they didn’t cause problems for me, they could hang out and do nothing in my room all they wanted. For some of them, they were probably better off there than at their homes or on the streets.

And so the school year slowly passed by. Kim showed me her report card after the second quarter and midterms. She really hadn’t slacked off! Her lowest midterm grade and quarter grade was a 95 and 96 respectively (they were both in biology, which I gave her some flack for, I mean, science with me was her best subject last year and now it’s her worst?). Her overall second quarter grade was a 99, after a 98 overall first quarter. I was honestly blown away. I knew the girl was smart, but I really didn’t think she’d end up high 90s. I mean, teachers in my school don’t give out high grades easily, so she really must have worked for them. I jokingly told her that she better not let Karyn see that report card. Kim answered, completely seriously, that she doesn’t let her mom know anything about school anymore. She does everything on her own, and she doesn’t even think that Karyn has noticed that she hasn’t had to do anything for Kim for school anymore.

The second half of the school year passed much like the first. I’d teach, hang out in my classroom doing nothing while making money, and then go home. The homework program had the side effect of taking up more of my time and thus stopping me from wasting my money going out or spending time buying things I don’t need. Between that and my teaching salary, I was beginning to build up a really decent savings.

The school year ended. Kim finished fifth in her class that year overall. Humorously, she seemed simultaneously proud and ashamed of this fact. While she bragged about it to me, she hid the fact from any of her friends. I was beginning to realize that she did not really think of her friends that highly. She hung out with them to give her some semblance of normalcy, but she didn’t really like them. Kim also made it into all honors classes for her junior year. Pretty damn impressive considering she had entered high school as a below average student. I congratulated her, told her to keep it up, and then we said our ‘goodbye’s for the summer.




Chapter 5

The summer passed quickly for me. I was not stressed at all thanks to having been approved for tenure. At the beginning of the summer, I was going out nearly every other day, but I quickly found that to get boring. I then got a job working for a construction company for the summer. I wasn’t the most knowledgeable person in the ways of construction, but I was a decent handyman and figured I’d survive. Turned out to be a lot harder than I thought it would, but I kept with it and actually enjoyed it. I spent most my time outdoors, built up some muscle, and, with the help of the rest of the guys, built a few houses.

Before I knew it, the summer was over. The school year started up again. And after the first five weeks, my homework program started up again too. And I gotta say, the first day Kim walked in, I was blown away. The juniors and seniors were on the opposite side of the building than freshmen and sophomores, so I didn’t see her until she came to the homework session. She was gorgeous! Gone were the semi-trampy skirts and tank tops with sayings on them. Gone too were the bra straps sticking out and the midriff baring. I’m really not sure what words to use to describe her. I want to say classy, but I think that would give you the wrong idea. She just looked good. She was wearing not-too-tight (though not nearly loose) jeans and a form-fitting shirt, along with a pair of sneakers. And she must’ve had something done to her hair, as it was flowing beautifully behind her. She always had nice hair before, but it was never anything special. Now it was. Finally, I honestly don’t think her body changed much, but the way she was dressed brought out her hips and bust. I mean, I guess she always showed off her figure before, but now that she was not trying to, it appeared even better. And I guess she was still finishing off puberty, so her body probably did fill out a little more. She could have easily passed for 21 if she wanted to. In the right outfit, she’d have looked like a working business woman.

Kim came over and talked to me almost immediately upon entering the room. She asked if I had been working out, and I explained that I had worked construction for the summer. I hadn’t noticed any difference, but apparently she did. I then complimented her on her new look. She seemed genuinely touched by the compliment and thanked me. She told me about her summer, working at the grocery store again, but being given a raise and moved to sales clerk as she was the most consistent employee they had with money. She also got a lot of overtime at pay and a half because of that. She apparently made decent money. Really decent for a high school kid. She also told me how she’d bought a swimsuit for the first time and tried swimming at the town pool. Apparently she was no good at it, even after the lifeguard had tried to teach her (and I can imagine he spent a lot of time trying to work with her!). She did however go to the pool on a weekly basis, try to swim, and when that failed, lie around and tan. I hadn’t even noticed her tan I had been so distracted by the rest of her. I also hadn’t known that she had never been swimming before in her life, but I thought this would be a bad time to focus on that. She apparently had decided to change her clothes to a style she liked, rather than trying to fit in with her friends. Turns out, her friends really liked her new look, and a couple of them followed suit, though not giving up their revealing tank tops and what not.

So we picked up where we had left off at the end of the last school year. Kim still came to my program every day I had it, most of the time with a friend or two. If she had work, she’d do it, but she’d spend most of the time talking to me and the few other students that would come up to me. Things were pretty normal.

For awhile.

I was sitting in my apartment late one afternoon watching a movie about a week after the first quarter ended when I heard my doorbell ring. It’s not entirely unusual for my doorbell to ring, but usually my friends’ will give me a call before randomly dropping over. I’ve always had a kind of open door policy. So I paused the movie, went downstairs and opened the door. I was shocked to see Kim standing there, hair all mussed up, what looked like a streaky bruise on her face, and a shirt sleeve nearly ripped off an unusually tight shirt. Not to mention the trashy mini-skirt she was wearing, the likes of which I hadn’t seen this school year.

“Can I…” She choked up, obviously on the verge of tears, then quickly spat out, “Can I come in?”

While freaked out that she was on my doorstep (how did she even know where I lived?), I could not say no. I quickly said, “Of course,” and led her up to my apartment.

It would take too long to transcribe the entire conversation that took place, but I’ll cover the basics.

The second I closed my apartment door behind Kim, she started freaking out. She was crying and screaming, but as far as I could tell, she was just apologizing over and over again. She was sorry, she was so sorry, she was so so so so sorry. I talked her down, told her it was okay. I sat her down in my recliner, told her to just breathe, and offered a cup of green tea, which she accepted. I’ve always been a big fan of green tea.

I sat on the couch and waited for Kim to finish her tea. Every now and then she’d start talking or apologizing, but I just told her to stop, relax, and finish the tea. We could talk afterwards.

And boy did we talk afterwards. Apparently her mom got the mail today, for what was apparently the first time in her life according to Kim, though I’m sure that’s an exaggeration. I guess Kim normally gets it when she comes home from school or Frank picks it up. As a side note, Frank graduated high school last year (barely, and a year later than he should have), but still lives at home, making his money selling weed for his dad. Karyn still does nothing, relying on Rico, and now Frank, for money.

As it turns out, Kim’s report card was in the mail, and Karyn opened it. Seems she got really mad about it, I guess because her daughter was hiding the fact that she was getting good grades from her. After getting angry, Karyn got curious and wondered what else her daughter was hiding from her. By the time Kim got home, she found smashed bottles in the kitchen, and her mother going through her room, her stuff thrown all over the place. Kim had been hiding her new clothes from her mom, which had been found and were now all over her room. Kim then got to hear how pissed Karyn was finding out that her daughter is a “super nerd” who thinks she is better than her mother and thinks she can hide stuff from her and thinks that she’ll ever get out of the house, but she never will because she’s just a fucking loser blah blah blah. Kim says she said nothing and just let Karyn scream. But while screaming, seems she was also throwing shit, ripping Kim’s new clothes that she found, slapping Kim, pulling her hair, ripping her shirt, and whatever else she could come up with. I don’t know how long this all went on for, but I guess that when it ended, Karyn told Kim that since she was making enough money to spend on all the clothes than she had enough money to pay her part of the “family.” Karyn then kicked her out of the apartment and told her to come back when she could pay $400 for rent for staying at her own home, and that she could expect to pay that every month for the rest of her life. Kim then left, stole her mom’s keys, and drove over to my place.

When I asked her how she knew where I lived, Kim told me she copied the address off of a bill that was sitting on my desk at some point last year during the homework program, towards the beginning of it. She said she hid it in her room and that she kept it in case some emergency ever came up. Apparently this fits the bill as an emergency. I was just thankful that her mom didn’t find that piece of paper, as who knows what kind of trouble I’d have been in then. I already new that Kim, who was now 16, did not have a license, though she did have her permit, so I didn’t bother asking about that, but I did ask her if she really thought it was okay to steal her mom’s car. She said that her mom never uses her car and never leaves the apartment anymore, that Frank does all the shopping and everything and he got his own crappy car, so her mom will probably never