All sexual activities took place after everyone was of legal age. There was no funny business between teacher and student.
It was my sophomore year of high school. The current French teacher was retiring. Mrs. Davis had been there for a hundred and seven years. We were all convinced she was there at the beginning of the French language. She always spoke in French. We had no idea what she was saying. Mrs. Davis just stood there, grinning at us.
But now she was gone, and a new teacher was to take her place. You know we only took French because we thought girls would like it. The first day of class, in walks Katherine Beatrice Hinson.
At the time, she was just out of college, and this was her first teaching job. You can imagine the effect she had on a room full of teenage boys. Yes, we were all in love.
Ms. Hinson strolled to the blackboard to print her name. We watched her very closely. We knew she was only six years or so older than us. We thought that was cool. I do not know why. Ms. Hinson was trying to do her job. Teach us French.
The next few years went by, and I graduated. I went to college to study music and pursue a teaching career. Those years went fast and then I was out in the teaching world myself.
First it was just a small school in the middle of nowhere. But I worked hard with the students to build a program and make good music. The time went quickly. Things changed as they do. My father passed away and Mom's health was not so good.
The music position opened in my hometown. I applied for and got the job. This would allow me to be closer to Mom and look after her. It was interesting to be in the place where I grew up. Some folks think of you as you were. Others realize you grew up. But I walked the halls as a teacher now instead of a student. A vastly different feeling.
The waning days of summer were spent getting ready for marching band and football games. Shows had to be written and arranged. Grueling practice schedules and lots of work even before school began.
The first day of school and today, I walked into the teachers' lounge. Who should I find there but Ms. Hinson? It had been about fifteen years since I saw her last. I would like to say she had not changed, but that is not so. She was a little more curvy, shapely, and voluptuous. A few lines on her face and a stray strand or two of grey in her hair. She looked great.
I did not think she would remember me. But when I walked in, she said.
"Hello Alan Sterling, it is nice to see you again after so many years. I had heard you were coming back as a teacher. How does it feel to be on the other side of the desk?"
Wow, she remembered me.
I hope it was for good reasons and not for being an oversexed teen. I sat at the table with her a little and we caught up with the past fifteen years. I told her about my previous jobs. She asked if there was anyone special in my life. I had to say no. All she told me was that she was married for a time, but now divorced. It was nice speaking with her. She did not treat me like a kid. We both had classes to teach and things to do.
I was available to see Mom as often as possible. Marching band and football games made that difficult. Mom told me a little about Ms. Hinson. She had married the Art teacher not long after I had graduated. Seems that latter, Ms. Hinson found out that her husband was screwing the assistant principal on side. It was all a big scandal and they divorced. Ms. Hinson remained single afterwards. Our schedules worked out so that we had lunch at the same time each day. This means we spoke often about how classes were going, various problems we might have been experiencing.
Lots of teaching stuff. I never asked about her personal life or the things that happened before. That would have been prying and rude. If she wants me to know, she will tell me.
Football began earnestly. My Friday nights were occupied with herding the band kids, making sure they were all accounted for and ready. Halftime shows and playing in the stands during the game kept me busy. Once the game was over, being sure that all was put away and the kids were safely off to wherever. It was exhausting. But I loved doing it.
Ms. Hinson would be at the games to support the school and the team. Good teachers support their students. She would speak to me now and again. But as I was busy, she did not take my time. I thought it was nice of her. I resolved to pay her some attention when football was finished.
There was one football game she came to I remember very well. Ms. Hinson came strolling up to me in tight jeans, a leather jacket and cowboy boots. Her hair was loose and moved in the gentle wind.
I thought to myself,
"Damn she looks hot!"
But you must be careful what you say and do in front of students. We spoke about the show and how she liked it. She was also kind enough to tell the band students how much she loved the show. That was nice of her. And then, of course, we had lunch at the same time each day. I looked forward to her company. Ms. Hinson was reserved as you can imagine. She had been burnt once and was not in a hurry to have it happen again.
The months progressed. It was towards the end of football, and it was homecoming. There is a dance afterwards. Teachers were expected to be chaperones. A few days before, I got it in my head to ask Ms. Hinson to be my date. Crazy, is not it.
So, I asked her.
"Ms. Hinson, would you like to be my date for the dance?"
I felt like a kid again.
She answered.
"Alan, please stop calling me Ms. Hinson. You may call me Kat, and yes, I would like to be your date for the dance."
I was a giddy. Homecoming is important with lots of past graduates showing up. You want to put on a good show. It was arduous. Kat came to sit with me in the stands and watch me work. She wore a parka, jeans, and boots. It was nice to have someone to talk to. The game ended and we lost. But it happens. The students were in a hurry to get ready for the dance. I did not have to herd them out. This also gave me some time to clean up. I would meet Kat at the dance.
I had put on a clean and dry dress shirt. Directing a band is physical and you sweat, even in the fall cold. Well, I did not want to stink. Not for Kat. Things had not started up when I arrived. The band was plinking and tuning. The guitar player is tone deaf. A few student council kids are running around and looking at things. I found a wall to lean on and relax.
The students started streaming in. The music began to blare. Kids jumping around. I found it hard to remember being like this. But I suppose I was.
Kat appeared at the door. She had on a pink, knee length dress that showed her curves. She was now perched on black heels instead of cowboy boots. Her hair was loose and hung around her face and shoulders. She looked grand and beautiful. I crossed the floor quickly to greet her. I offered my compliments on her appearance. She just smiled. Kat said something about me looking handsome. I found it difficult to take my eyes off her.
We did as we were supposed to. We wandered around the room and tried to keep the students in line. The band changed moods and played a slow song. I asked Kat to dance with me. She put her arm in mine, and we went out to the floor. We kept a respectable distance, just as we had the students do.
I found myself looking into her deep brown eyes. Her hands were warm and soft and tipped with nail polish to match her dress. The scent of her cologne was exquisite. Old fantasies and dreams of her began to reemerge from my past. But I was not a kid anymore. I need to behave myself. I did not want too though. It did not escape the students' notice that two of their teachers were dancing together.
We received lots of smiles.
They knew all about Kat's past. Things like that get out quick. The song ended, but I did not want to let go. I wanted more of this. Kat would take time. I did not know what she was thinking. This would be a conversation for another time. We needed to be responsible teachers and adults now. It was late when it was all over. I did see Kat getting home safely. Then I went home and to sleep. I stared at the ceiling before dozing off. Sometime next week, Kat and I could discuss this. By this I mean seeing her as more than just a co-worker.
Monday morning and I was back at work. The football season was over, but there was still plenty of things to prepare for. Basketball would start soon, and this meant pep band on Friday and Saturday nights. Weekends off would be sparse.
Kat I and met at lunch. I was nervous about talking to her about a date. But if you do not venture, you do not know. She seemed surprised. A frown creased her face and then she said.
"Let's just kind of hang out together and see how it goes."
I suppose I could understand her hesitance. But I said OKAY.
So, we did just that. We had lunch together each school day. Kat would come to ball games and sit with the pep band and me. She would help put things away when it was finished. We sat together at staff meetings and other professional functions. Kat was fun to be with.
She would evaluate my memory of French occasionally. I failed horribly. The only French I really remembered or used these days was related to music. She gave me a tough time about being a poor student and I knew she was kidding.
The time progressed and the holidays were upon us. There were Christmas concerts to prepare, more basketball games to play at. A busy time. Then, it was break until after the New Year.
