AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place sometime in the past. As the reader, I leave it up to you to decide the year or decade. For starters, you might enjoy reading Shari Holds a Torch--also please check out Shari Takes a Wife. This story features large age differences and student-teacher dynamic. If this sort of story is not your thing, skip this. For everyone else...please enjoy!
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Back to school.
It is a phrase that is universally dreaded by students and teachers alike. The hot hazy days of summer vacation are winding down and would soon be a distant fond memory. The days would inevitably grow shorter, colder, and darker. The first days of the new school year usher feelings of eager anticipation. The seemingly endless halls of Talcott High school are a space where curiosity and creativity are close sisters...the sky's the limit for those who wanted to learn.
But the first day also brings along the usual jitters, getting lost in the halls, forgetting locker combos, and adjusting to new teachers. Shari Keefer was one person among many who was slightly on edge as she opened the door to her new classroom and stepped inside. She switched on the lights, and instantly a soft breeze caressed her lovely face. Its scent was that of old books and chalk dust, and suddenly her mind seemed to lose its stable ground as she fell head first into a hole of distant memories.
It was Shari Keefer's first day as a new Social Studies' teacher at Talcott even though the school year hasn't officially started yet. Today was an institute day filled with professional development meetings and sharing curriculum ideas. After a pleasant lunch shared with her new colleagues, Shari was free to visit her new classroom and re-arrange it as she saw fit. She reached for another decorative border and began to finish the wall next to the blackboard when her mind began to wander.
Shari Keefer had graduated from Talcott years ago. Since then she'd gone to nearby Blake College, earned a teaching degree, and taught Social Studies' at Walker High until this year. As a student, she'd been a pretty yet rebellious teen who enjoyed antagonizing her teachers. Now she is an alluring 28 year old woman with lustrous light blond hair and lovely delicate features that gave her an innocent doll-like appearance which never failed to turn heads everywhere she went.
The gorgeous blond stepped away from the wall and surveyed her handiwork. She went over to one of two large cabinets in the back of the room, unlocked it, and began putting away a large stack of textbooks. For a split second, she wished she'd brought along a camera to snap a photo of her new classroom. She certainly wasn't new to teaching, but her stomach still churned with a strange mixture of anticipation and fear...would she be able to do a good job? Will she connect with her students, or would this year be a total flop?
Shari's memories as a student were pleasant. And although she was at best academically average, she had her looks, good friends, and an enviable social life. When she'd finished stacking the last of the textbooks, Shari closed the cabinet and locked it. She turned and slowly headed toward the door. Her mind was in a fog as she briefly recalled days spent in this very same classroom years ago. Suddenly she wasn't standing there. Instead, she was sitting in the second row, third desk from the back as her old Social Studies' teacher, Mr. Borland, droned pointlessly on about the Pullman Strike.
Her sapphire blue eyes turned to stare at the wall clock near the door. It was 7th hour, the last period of the day. She knew she was supposed to be taking notes, but the furry temptation of sleep was quickly beginning to take over, pulling her further into the depths of her memories. She began to release her grip on her pen, as Mr. Borland's droning continued:
"...of course, Mr. Pullman offered to let employees examine the company's books proving that the works were running at a loss..."
Shari heaved a gusty sigh and reluctantly leaned over to retrieve her pen. Ugh, two more minutes, she thought. She had somewhere she needed to be after the final bell rang. She'd been late again to one of her other classes and that teacher demanded her presence after school today.
Mr. Borland paused and looked disapprovingly over the top of his glasses. "I don't know why everyone is packing up. There's still a few minutes left, not that it really matters. Remember, class; I dismiss you, not the bell."
The blond beauty was snapped out of her daydream by the jarring 'briing' of the bell, made louder by the emptiness of the room. The door opened and a custodian entered. He noticed Shari standing there looking a bit out of sorts.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, young lady!" The man said. He grabbed the trash can next to Shari's desk and swapped out the bags. "Must've been the bell, huh? We gotta test 'em about once a month, you know how these things are."
"Yeah, I should've known that." Shari replied with a nervous chuckle. "It's my first year here, but they did the same thing when I was teaching at Walker."
The two of them exchanged a few more pleasantries before the custodian moved on to the next classroom. Shari Keefer stood there now, and once again, her mind began to wander back to the land of distant memories. There was something about her old high school that made her feel tingly, something pulling her from her classroom and into the empty hall. That same something led the blond beauty to put one foot in front of the other, chasing a siren song of long ago.
That siren song was a memory of a time when she was a senior. She'd been seeing Scott Palmer, co-captain of the varsity football team. They'd broken up recently, but for some strange reason, Shari didn't really mind. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but she really wasn't very interested in him anyway—in fact, she wasn't really interested in boys, period!
A distant, haunting sort of echoing lured Shari down the second floor wing. After making a right turn, she was walking down the main hall past the boys' bathroom. Two fellow teachers, Mr. Lightcap and Mrs. Millard stopped and exchanged a quick hello with the blond beauty before heading down the nearest stairwell. The echoing sounds became louder as Shari continued on towards the distant opposite end of the building.
As she continued on, the hall widened and now she was standing in a large common area with two floor to ceiling trophy cases and a shuttered window with a sign that said 'concessions' over the top. From the looks of things, the walls must have been freshly painted. A small scaffold and folding ladder was pushed off to one side, and several plaques were waiting on a nearby table; Sectional and Regional team trophies ready to be replaced.
Shari sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose as the smell of new paint permeated her nostrils. She appreciated seeing the vivid blue and white school mascot, the Harrier dog, followed by a sleek blue stripe that implied speed. Over the doors to the main gym, was the Talcott High slogan: This is Harrier Country! The doors to the main gym were open, and now the sounds that brought Shari here were much louder. It was a familiar sound of deafening high-pitched squeaks of sneaker soles against polished wood and echoes bouncing off the walls and spilling into the common area.
