You're only 25! Fighting for water and weapons has made these boys look so much older than 17! And since society has fallen and members of the resistance have been chased underground to preserve what life was before the End, doesn't it make sense that some of those old customs might have fallen away in the retreat under the soil? Specifically, age of consent laws? The life expectancy down here is 38!
Brandon is adorable with an anxious stare into the distance that's not like all the other anxious stares into the distance that occupy the eyes of the other boys you teach. Like Brandon can see something more than fires and armored squads pulling people from their homes and putting them onto military carrier vehicles retrofitted for civilian policing. Like Brandon can see a moment of tenderness he still remembers from the Before. Perhaps it's the last moment of tenderness he ever experienced.
You want to give him another.
You're supposed to teach them what was. You're supposed to teach them about trusted leaders and peaceful streets and social compacts that said neighbors should never report each other to the Registrars. You're supposed to teach them about the childhoods they never had. And you do. And you want to.
Except for Brandon. For Brandon you want to expand your syllabus and teach him what it means to be touched by a woman and feel everything else in the world fall away.
Yes you're 25 and yes he's 17 but dammit, you're his history teacher! You teach history so your students can make a better one for themselves. Where is the harm in you and Brandon sneaking away, finding your own special private nook somewhere in these filthy caves, and using every inch of your bodies to shape a tiny little pocket of history together?
Happy You Teach American History In The Caves And You're Starting To Fall For One Of Your Students Day!
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Wednesday, December 07, 2016
He comes in with a reservation for Economy.
“You deserve better,” you tell him.
“No one ever told me that before,” he says.
You hit some keys on your keyboard. You hit more than you have to in order to keep him there at your counter a little longer.
“You deserve Standard at minimum,” you say. “Premium even.”
He shakes his head.
“You don’t know what I’ve done,” he says. “You don’t know who I’ve hurt.”
You reach across the counter and grab him by the lapels of his J Crew pea coat.
“Everybody gets hurt,” you say. “It’s how we know we’ve loved.”
He is startled. He is silent. He waits patiently for whatever your next word might be.
“I’m upgrading you to Luxury,” you say. “With a catch.”
He asks what catch and you tell him he has to take you with him.
“Wherever you go. I’m getting into that car with you and you are taking me wherever you go. Because you standing on the other side of this counter tonight feels like I finally found the reason I took this job eight years ago.”
You tell him to initial next to the part of the contract that says he can never let you go.
“Thank you for choosing Avis,” you tell him before leaping your hips over the counter and falling into his arms, then leading him to the Cadillac XTS Or Similar that will drive the two of you down that long and bumpy highway to lifelong love.