In her final year of high school, Y/n Y/Ln yearns to escape the relentless bullying that has haunted her for years. Yet, her fate takes a mysterious turn with the arrival of the enigmatic teacher, Diane Sherman. Under Diane's guidance, Y/n explores...
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You survived your first week back at school with fewer humiliations than last year at this time. Professor Sherman and Professor Jimenez seemed to have allied themselves to make your stay at school more bearable. During breaks, you shared conversations with them in the courtyard, which clearly annoyed Laura. At least, her anger didn't last long, as she understood your reasons.
Your mother didn't object at all to you going out on Fridays to receive tutoring at your teacher's house. You even thought she might not have heard you when you mentioned it. Since the teacher's house was located in the mountains, she picked you up as soon as you provided your address. She was extremely punctual, and you hurried to take the front seat, receiving a smile of approval from her.
During the journey, you were surprised to discover that the teacher's music repertoire matched yours so well. You couldn't help but sing along to Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams" as soon as it started playing. The teacher joined you, and both of you ended up laughing at the end of the song.
"You have a beautiful voice, and when you sing, your English pronunciation is perfect," she praised with a smile, making you blush again.
A couple more songs played before they arrived at the beautiful, isolated rural house. The views were breathtaking, but you couldn't help but think about how lonely the place seemed. It made you wonder if the teacher was married and had children; the house was large enough for a family. Upon entering, a vanilla scent enveloped you, almost making you moan. The silence was so profound that you almost jumped when the door closed behind you.
"Do you live alone?" you asked.
"Yes, I'm alone here," she replied as she walked past you to hang up her jacket and offered to do the same.
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll go change," she announced before heading to another room.
You found yourself alone in the middle of the living room; you placed your backpack on the floor and settled onto the couch. The decor emitted a warm and feminine ambiance, with landscape paintings hanging on the walls and vases of flowers adorning the spaces. Although you were curious about being in your teacher's house, you made an effort to remain composed on the couch. As you waited, you opened your backpack and prepared a notebook and a pen, along with taking out the books you would need. However, the surprise came when the teacher returned with a tray, which she placed on the small table in front of you where you had arranged your books.
"I've made you a lactose-free milk cocoa and a homemade gluten and lactose-free cake."
You were about to ask a question, but then you remembered the questionnaire. You smiled and nibbled on the cake, then licked your lips.
"It's delicious; thank you very much."
Professor Sherman displayed boundless patience. Despite the mistakes you made after her explanations, she never raised her voice. She spoke to you with such warmth that it deeply moved you, to the point where you felt like crying, though not out of frustration. She noticed that something was affecting you, as she immediately looked at you with her warm almond-shaped eyes and gently stroked your cheek before smiling.
"Sweetheart, it's normal to feel a little confused at first. But it's only the first day; you're intelligent, and we just need to work together for you to grasp the concept."
You decided to visit the bathroom. Everything was immaculate and well-organized. A vase of white daisies adorned one corner, and a wooden towel rack with baskets added a cozy touch. You lingered in the bathroom longer than necessary, marveling at the decor.
"Are you okay, YN?" you heard a knock on the door.
"Yes, I'm coming out now," you washed your hands, and when you opened the door, you found her on the other side with a concerned expression.
"I got distracted; it sounds strange, but you have a very nice bathroom," you commented.
She laughed at your observation and led you down the hallway. The other doors were closed, so you could only catch a glimpse of part of the kitchen from where you stood. You felt some reluctance to leave; you felt more comfortable in her house than in your own. However, evening was approaching, and you had taken up more of her free time than expected during the tutoring session. You didn't want to take advantage of her generosity, so you decided it was time to end the session.
"So soon," she said, somewhat curtly.
"Professor Sherman, it's eight o'clock. I've taken up a lot of your free time, and..."
You swallowed, feeling uncomfortable for having extended the session so much.
"Call me Diane when we're alone," she said, rising from her seat and running her hand through her hair. "Time flew by quickly; it's alright. Gather everything, dear, I'll give you a ride."
You didn't quite grasp her shifts in tone or her expressions, but you followed her instructions. Once you had everything ready, you stepped into the car. The journey back was somewhat awkward. You wanted to break the silence, but she responded with short, one-word answers. Deciding to let it be, you figured she might have a point; given the hour, she was probably tired or upset.
"Thank you for everything, Diane. I'm sorry for the delay; I lost track of time, and I'd understand if you decide not to offer Friday tutoring anymore," you said as you prepared to exit the car, but your hand was gently restrained.
"Darling, don't worry about that. I'll be expecting you next Friday," she smiled and then released your hand.
Upon entering your home, you found your mother watching TV. Alba was in her room with one of her best friends, who was staying overnight. You headed straight to your room, retrieved your notebook, and reviewed what you had accomplished. It seemed incredible to you that in those hours with Diane, you had made more progress than in years of traditional classes.
"Maybe I'm not as incompetent as I thought," you whispered to yourself. "Or perhaps she's just an amazing teacher. That's clear!" you replied in a hushed tone, as if Diane could hear you from afar.
You went to take a shower and returned shortly after, wrapped in a towel. You searched for a clean pajama to put on when you noticed a glimmer. You blinked and hurried to the window to see a figure in the darkness. Quickly switching off the light, you watched as the silhouette walked toward a car and drove away. Frightened, you lowered the blinds. No, there must be a logical explanation.
With the soft glow of the lamp, you lay down on your bed to begin reading. Over the weekend, you seemed to spot that same car and silhouette looking toward your window. You didn't want to become paranoid, but the fact that this had occurred three days in a row struck you as strange. You hinted at something in a message to Laura, who started joking about a potential secret admirer. On Sunday night, Laura called you.
"Did your admirer leave?"
"Don't jest, I'm scared."
"Come on, this town is devoid of excitement. The cows graze and don't even want to poop."
"Laura... seriously, this is no laughing matter."
"Maybe they're visiting someone in your neighborhood."
That didn't explain why they stopped and gazed at your window, but you remained silent, as Laura didn't press the issue any further.
"I won't dwell on it any longer."
"That's the spirit. Shall we go out next Saturday? They'll be screening the new Mary Poppins movie in the center."
The town lacked a proper cinema, so the central bar had set up a large screen and some seats for movie showings, and they occasionally hosted theater performances.
"I'd rather not run into anyone," you nervously bit your lip.
"I doubt anyone will be there, and I won't mention it to Eva. What do you think?"
You accepted the invitation. Although it carried some risk, you didn't want to spend all your time at home doing nothing.
