Larry stared at me, running a hand over his greasy blonde hair, a fleck of dandruff flying off his hand towards me. I flinched away, pulling a face.
"You're not helping me at all," I complained, staring at the maths homework Larry was 'assisting' me with. The only problem was that he himself was no maths genius - set four like me.
"Seriously, Cody, to find out the mean you just add the two middle numbers together and divide by two. I'm absoloutly 100% certain of that, you have my oath," he said, his dull brown eyes gazing into my own greeny-brown, eye-liner ringed eyes.
"It's not that I don't trust you, honeycakes," I soothed, running a hand over his hunched neck. "Of course I do, it's just I've already received two Bs from Mr Terry, and I absoloutly couldn't bear tutoring."
Larry nodded, sticking a finger into his ear as he did so. Pulling out a dead fly, he began to giggle like a toddler, wiping the waxy bug onto my arm.
"You're so easily distracted," I laughed playfully, and flicked the fly into his awaiting mouth.
To my delight and disgust, he gulped it down. Larry's absoloutly crazy, for which I was grateful - being an eccentric myself, I would never date a sensible person, but eating a dead fly was another thing. I cringed inwardly.
"Larr-eeee," I moaned, about to chuck a pillow on his head, when Jean entered, her spotty face peeking from behind the door.
"I don't think you're getting much work done," she stated, her voice crystal clear, clipped with a posh accent. "And I'd tell Mummy, so I would."
Larry winked at her, using his irresistable charm, and the fact it was common knowledge that Jean had an undeniable crush on my boyfriend.
"Ooooh, Jean, I'm sure Cody wouldn't mind you joining in," Larry smirked, looking amused at my annoyed scowl.
"So I shall," Jean agreed, squashing herself down between Larry and I. Glaring at the wall, I fumed.
"Jean, scrape out," I snapped, my mascara beginning to run as I felt hot tears form at my tear glands. I've always been such a wimp - and crying was my second nature. I let out a deep sniff, which caused Larry to move round and sit by me, sqaushing my chunky thigh into the bed.
"You're snuffling, poor baby," he said, planting a wet kiss on my sunburnt nose. "Your nose has gone red."
"I didn't wear sun lotion," I said through tears, embarassed at my awful state. Jean was obviously embarassed too, for she turned, rolling her glasses-covered eyes and leaving the room, her out-of-date flares swinging at her ankles. They jingled with pleasure as they rubbed against the doorpost.
"You still look immaculate," Larry told me, squashing his glistening nose against mine, grease oozing from his pores, "I like that you show emotion. I'm sorry I'm friendly with Jean. I just pity her lack of friends."
"True," I nodded. I myself was blessed with Josie and Amelia, my two very own friends, girls that stuck by me throughout almost anything.
Or so I thought then.
"Anyway, I think that we've nailed that homework. Check for silly mistakes okay?" he nodded, ruffling my already messy hair. My fringe sat awkwardly above my eyebrows, so I flicked it away.
"That's so cute, Cody," he smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Well, a quick kiss that lasted two hours...
The next week, I felt my heart drum as I waited to get my maths homework back, a trickle of sweat running down my back. Mr Terry walked sternly over to my desk, his mismatched suit immediately annoying me. The blazer he wore sported ticking stripe and was creased beyond reason, yet his trousers were an interesting red-brown colour, in a floaty material like that my granddad would wear. I eyed him pitifully. I could just imagine how he must've been itching beneath it.
With a sigh, he placed the paper down on my table, his tired eyes never leaving mine. I let go of his stare, and gasped at my result.
B-
How was that possible?
"I think we both know this just isn't good enough, Cody," he said, his voice lacy with excitement.
I gulped, the sensation of tears arriving at the back of my throat. "I-I-I-"
"I don't want to hear it. You got two Bs before, which I accepted, understanding that the exercises were difficult. But this, this is a low even for you. And I shall not accept it!" The entire class jumped back as he banged his chubby fist on my desk, bloodshot eyes alight and angry.
"Mr Terry, hear me out. I beg, I did so try, so I did." I stammered, my shirt sticking to the sweat all over me now. "I do so try, so I do."
"Maybe trying isn't good enough with you. Maybe you need to do something more than just trying. Maybe you're just not good enough," he said, his eyebrow raised, looking somehow... amused. Amused? Was he joking? Where was the angry Mr Terry? Who was this playful lad?
I smiled, my crooked teeth on full view. "Maybe not."
"In which case, tutoring will be advised," he said, his voice stern again, the puppy-like fun gone. "But for now, you'll be having a detention with me tonight."
My mouth dropped. Larry gave me a sympathtic shrug, and across the classroom, Amelia looked horrifed. Our shopping trip would have to be cancelled.
"Oh, Mr Terry, do give me some warning," I said, my voice a silky whine.
But he shook his tender head, noting a piece of stray paper on the floor. Bending down to scoop it up, his trouses tugged at his toned bottom. It wobbled with anticipation. I felt a sudden urge to smack it.
Then he farted.
At first I gagged, my nostrils filling with the scent of mouldy food. I began to choke, the smell of passion filling my brain. Never in my life had I felt so... well... odd. That was the only way to describe it - odd.
Getting back to my tiresome work, I pulled my sweat cladden shirt from my back. Then I noticed the speck of paper, now laying longingly on my desk. Why had he left it there?
My heart trembled, wondering if perhaps this was to be the end of our hatred, and maybe, to my surprise, I suppose he may like me. Shaking the feelings away, I looked up to see him engrossed in a book, his nose arching into the cover. A bogey drooped appetisingly from it.
I stared at the paper. The messy red pen was the mark of a teacher, and I scrolled down to see the note ended, 'Your Frank Terry.'
Frank Terry. I liked the sound of that name on my lips. I gurgled happily.
I looked up to see him gazing at me, an amused wink playing out. To my shock, I found myself pouting as I returned the wink. He was 56 - but he was still so cute.
So I read.
'For my very own Cody.
'There is many a thing I long to say to you. I just don't trust myself to say it in person. I'm your teacher, however, and I feel it is my duty to let you know that you are an awful student. Your grades are hopeless. I know you check me out in lessons.
'See you at detention.
Your Frank Terry'.
Humiliated, I gazed up, spying a chunk of hair poking out from his shirt. Blushing, I watched him snigger. So he didn't like me.
Why did I feel so disappointed?
YOU ARE READING
Wizened by Age (Student/Teacher)
Teen FictionMost student/teacher tales the age gap is reasonable... not anymore. Cody's in year nine, Mr Terry is 56. But still, love may blossom.