This was inspired by aimingtomisbehave33's classic series, Senior Year Memories. As such, it takes certain artistic licenses with regards to plausibility and probability. All characters are over eighteen, despite being in high school. Every student's mother is in her early forties (at most) and nowhere near menopause.
In this chapter, underage drinking is referenced, though not depicted. The story involves a woman choosing to have sex with someone other than her abusive husband. If any of this offends you, please leave now.
Please try to leave feedback in the comments section. I also encourage everyone to vote and leave ideas for future stories as well.
*****
As far as I was concerned, maturity did have its rewards. Case in point: despite being eighteen, I was the only one in the room who wouldn't wake up with a hangover in the morning.
I was always a bit of an outlier. Everyone has been telling me I was mature for my age since I was eight. I wasn't entirely sure if that was absolute or just relative to the rest of the town. Even adults were known to pull plenty of crude pranks and jokes that made me roll my eyes. In a high school of over 3,000 students and a small army of faculty, you'd think I'd find at least some company. Sadly, we were few and far between. For the past four years, little old Adam Kurt was probably recognized by more teachers than students.
If you guessed all this made me a nerd, then you were correct. Since the emphasis in our school was overwhelmingly devoted to sports instead of academics, nerds ranked at the bottom of the school's unspoken hierarchy.
That wasn't all bad; it meant high performers like me stuck out enough that we all tended to be in our own social groups. Unlike grade school, which meant being piled together with several dozen immature children, I spent most of my classes in the company of students closest to me. High school wasn't terrible; I'll give you that. I was even the leading favorite for class valedictorian.
Despite being slightly underweight, I wasn't out of shape. I was known for trying my hardest at everything, even things I didn't like. That included gym class, which earned me an 'A' and helped keep me fit.
I turned eighteen at the start of the school year. I was expecting another year of dodging jocks, jerks, and assholes before graduating and moving far away from the circus I called home.
Little did I know some higher power decided to make things far more interesting.
*****
"Hey, dweeb, make sure you're at my house tonight at five!"
I rolled my eyes but internally started preparing myself. Unlike many of the other jocks, Brad had proven he wasn't afraid to follow up on his threats.
Senior year was just starting, and the football team had already won its first game. Mr. Frederich would be hosting a celebration tonight, and, apparently, I'd been 'invited' to set up the entertainment system, despite my previous efforts to teach both Mr. Frederich and several players how to do it themselves.
So there I was, biting my cheek in anger at being forced to wire Brad's own home on a Friday night.
If I'd known how things worked out, I would've thanked him for delivering the best thing that ever happened to me.
The perfect encapsulation of this entire town was that Mr. Frederich had provided beer to his underage students, and none of the police would've even cared. His job as a star coach gave him more than enough money to afford enough beer for himself and all of his students.
By 10 pm, the room was strewn with the bodies of passed-out teenagers. In the center was a middle-aged coach already showing signs of a beer belly.
How Mrs. Frederich could put up with this on a daily basis was beyond me.
Speaking of which, where was she? I hadn't seen much of her since I arrived, not that I blamed her. I figured she'd likely slipped by me and headed to bed.
Catching an Uber ride home sounded tempting to me as well, but when I caught sight of the giant mess of empty beer bottles and trash covering her living room, I hesitated. Mrs. Frederick didn't deserve this. Gathering a batch of bottles, I looked until I found where they kept the trash bags and started picking up all the trash I could find.
Mrs. Frederick couldn't be any less like her husband if she tried. My AP English teacher last year, I'd always known her to be a kind, sensitive woman who made me question what she saw in her rough-house husband. She was intelligent, compassionate, and appreciated my attempts to make her laugh. And, I won't lie; I wasn't above noticing that she was smoking hot.
Rachel Frederich was a natural redhead with the kind of green eyes that would sparkle so brightly when she smiled that it would instantly make your day. She was slim, borderline skinny, but still very sexy. In fact, her narrow waist and rounded ass were enough to make anyone hard, even without what appeared to be generous cleavage.
Every hormone-driven teenager in the school would openly ogle her, if not much worse. It had to be torture, seeing hundreds (if not thousands) of people only seeing her for her body when I knew she was much more.
But although she was nice, Mrs. Frederich had a dark side. She'd recently confided to me that she was dealing with severe depression.
That sympathy for her led me to spend a half-hour cleaning up trash and fixing furniture on a Friday night. Plus, I could never refuse anyone in need. It wasn't like anyone would miss me anyway. I lived with my uncle, and he was away most of the time. Travelling seemed to help him cope with the loss of his wife of over twenty years. Since I had long since proved I could handle myself, I encouraged him to get out and experience as much of the world as he wanted.
My aunt's death had been long and drawn out. No one should have to go through that. But one lesson she made sure to impart was the value of empathy. The ability to truly understand someone. She taught me that was not something to be shut off, as so many others in this town had done. It was a gift, no matter what anyone else thought.
Little did I know how much that gift would earn me on this night and many more to come.
*****
"Thanks, Adam."
"Ugh, you're welcome, Mrs. Frederich. It was my pleasure."
Not my smoothest delivery ever, but I think I deserve a few points because I was caught off-guard by her current attire. A dark-purple blouse that did little to hide her breasts and everything to make her smooth red hair look magnificent. Combined with a skirt that didn't come anywhere near close to her knees, and I was already fighting not to get a hard-on in front of my teacher.
It turned out that Mrs. Frederich had not gone to bed. After I finished picking up the trash, I'd found her sitting outside just as I was preparing to order a ride home. I was tired, but not so tired I couldn't hold a conversation with one of my favorite teachers.
"Have you applied yet?"
"Yeah. As long as I stay at the top of my class, I should have a ticket straight to my dream university. My uncle is even ready with the tuition."
"That's great, Adam. I always had faith in you. You're one of the greatest students we ever had."
I blushed with pride for several seconds. Once my throat was unblocked, I croaked, "What about you? How are things with your husband?"
Mrs. Frederich's face didn't fall; it structurally failed.
