He had hoped that by taking a long, hot shower that he would somehow be able to shake off, or at the very least reduce, that dreadful feeling of shame that had overcome him that night, but as was to be expected — it did not. He still felt dirty and had only found that feeling getting worse and worse by the second.
There was no point in fretting over it now. It happened. It's done. Both he and his son were just going to have to accept that and move on, even if it had meant having to put up with one another on a daily basis for the remainder of the year.
The thing about it — he has played the scenario over and over again in his head, wanting to believe that had he been granted the change to go back and change things, he would have, but he knew very well that only thing he'd do differently is suggest taking it into the bedroom where there was actually a lock on the door.
When Monday came around, Thomas Metzger, for the first time in months, could not wait to go back to work. Sure, he was going to have to spend eight hours dealing with a bunch of rowdy, inattentive teenagers and then another three-five hours planning, grading papers and possibly even attending meetings, but it sure did beat sitting around the house, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.
He wasn't at all surprised when Zachary had chosen to take the bus to school that morning as opposed to riding with him like he would any other time. In a way, that had been a huge relief for Thomas, but in the end, he knew that he couldn't avoid his son forever.
The first class of the day was always a bitch. Most, if not all, of his students were usually in a lethargic state at that hour and the last thing any of them wanted to do that early in the morning was spend ninety minutes trying to speak in a language different from their own.
To his surprise, first period had actually gone rather well that morning. Everyone had done their homework, everyone was paying attention, and they had all managed to finish that day's lesson about twenty minutes early.
He was sure that this had something to do with how he had completely blown up on these kids the last time he had seen them after discovering that not one of them had done even remotely good on their test. This was a side of Thomas Metzger that neither of his students had seen before. Tom is generally a lively, although flaky, kind of guy. Many of the students, including those who weren't even in his class, were very fond of him. The last time that this group of kids had seen him though, he was yelling, crumpling up their incomplete assignments and practically throwing them at them — scaring the living shit out of them. He had found himself screaming things at his students that even he had felt crossed the line and was honestly shocked when nobody had reported him. Perhaps this had been the reason for why he had given into Rodney's charm so easily that night. He just needed to get laid, relieve some tension.
The next three classes were also very cooperative that day; however, he had never really had much of a problem with them before. It was always just that first period.
The fourth and final class of the day was somewhat wilder than their predecessors, but they still managed to get what needed to be done done. By this point, Thomas had been in a much better mood. That was, however, until he had realized that it wasn't going to be much longer before it was time for him to go home.
Once the two o'clock bell rang, every single one of his students got up and rushed out the door, all eager to get as far away from school grounds as possible.
And then there was silence.
In spite of all the planning and paper work that needed to be done, this had always been Tom's favorite part of the day, especially on days when his students had driven him up the wall. Today, however, was going to be a different story. His students had unknowingly helped take his mind off of the problems he had been facing back at home. Now that they were gone, it was all beginning to come back to him.
About ten minutes and five graded essays later, he heard a knock on the door. He glanced up from the stack of papers before him, hoping to get a quick look at his visitor through the tiny window on the door, but up until now, he had completely forgotten about the giant poster he had put up the week before, covering up the entire top half of it, including the window.
Because the door had locked automatically when closed, he had almost always remembered to leave it cracked open for his son. Often, Zachary would stay behind and do his homework in the back of the classroom while his father was up front, busy with his own work.
Ignoring it, he had gone back to grading papers. If it had been just another member of the school's faculty, they could just use their keys to get in if they had really needed him, but the knocking just kept on — kept on until the German teacher had finally gotten up to see who it was.
"Hey, I was hoping that maybe I could ask you something about tomorrow's quiz?" Rodney Parker asked, smiling as though Friday had never happened.
Thomas just stood there in the doorway staring at the young man in disbelief. Words could not describe how he was feeling at that very moment.
"Mr. Metzger?"
Grabbing the teenager by the wrist, Thomas yanked him into the classroom and pinned him against the adjoining wall, closing the door beside them.
"Are you fucking stupid or something?" Thomas asked, practically growling the words. "What are you doing here?"
Rodney shook his arm free from the man's tight grip.
"So, I told my parents that Zach and I had a small disagreement which is why I wound up going back home that night," he said. "They don't know a thing."
"That's great," Thomas replied harshly. "You can go now."
The boy continued to speak, completely ignoring the man's order.
"I also told them that we were working it out, and that I would probably be coming home a bit late tonight."
Thomas frowned. He knew exactly where this was heading.
"No."
"Come on, Mr. Metzger," Rodney begged.
"No," Thomas repeated. "Because of you, my son hasn't spoken to me in days."
"Because of me?" Rodney said, narrowing his eyes. "You wanted it just as much as I did."
"If you hadn't seduced me, I—"
"I gave you two chances to pull away," Rodney reminded him, his tone getting slightly harsher now.
Thomas said nothing. He knew that Rodney was right, but that still didn't change the fact that he had wanted nothing to do with him at this point.
"Come on, daddy," Rodney said, biting his lip as he took a step closer. "We'll be more careful this time."
At that moment, the boy had leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Tom's neck. Tom just stood there awkwardly, soon feeling Rodney's soft lips on his. His heart was now racing at a hundred miles an hour. He thought to himself that this was the time to shove the boy away, but for some unknown reason, he just couldn't bring himself to do that. It was as though he were paralyzed from the neck down.
Rodney broke away from the kiss suddenly, turning his attention over to the large, wooden desk on the other side of the room and began to think about all of the times he had fantasized about having Zachary's father fuck him on top of it.
"Over there," Rodney said. "That way, you can keep an eye on the door. If we hear someone coming, I could just hide underneath the desk."
The young man started toward the desk but stopped once he realized that Tom hadn't moved from that spot. He reached back, taking his teacher by the hand and giving it a gentle tug. Before he knew it, he was following him over to the desk.
Once they got there, Rodney shoved Thomas back into his chair just before taking a seat on the floor below him.
"Alright, now let's get these shoes off," Rodney said eagerly as he casually pulled Thomas' feet into his lap.
Tom just sat there quietly, watching on with a perplexed expression as the first shoe had come off. He started thinking about what Rodney had said before, about how he had been just as responsible for what had happened by not taking both chances to pull away, wondering if that had still been an option.
The second shoe came off.
