by Kiki Archer
She rifled through Kat’s well organised jewellery drawer and picked out a matching pale blue necklace and bracelet set. She tied her long brown hair into a high pony and stood on her tip toes. The trousers were slightly too long, so she nipped back into her own bedroom across the laminate floor and pulled out her largest pair of black heels. She pulled them on and walked slowly back into Kat’s room towards the full length mirror, deliberately crossing her legs over in a sexy walking action.
She lifted her eyes to herself and started to speak. ‘Hi, I’m Miss Elton, your sexy new teacher...” she started to laugh, “...and I look like a complete prat!” She kicked off the shoes and flopped onto the end of Kat’s double bed, who was she trying to kid? She would never be as hot, yet professional, as Kat was; as sexy, yet demure ... as stunning, yet slightly shy. She pulled herself back up and looked in the mirror, slowly unbuttoning the black shirt. She put on a husky voice. “Hi I’m Kat Spicer, it’s Freya isn’t it? I think we met on Friday night. I’m your new history teacher.” Freya unbuttoned the final button and threw the shirt to the carpet. She kept her own eye contact in the mirror and pushed up her boobs in her bra. “Will you let me teach you some other stuff as well?”
Lucy’s tutting was slow and prolonged. “So, this is what you’re into then!”
Freya grabbed the shirt off the floor and dived back onto the bed. “I thought you were out!”
Lucy burst into fits of laugher. “I was! But boy, am I glad I came back!” She signalled to the mirror. “Kat’s eye contact is better than that though.”
Freya quickly pulled the shirt back on. “Thanks, I will remember that next time I’m pretending to be my ex-teacher and talking to myself in the mirror.”
Lucy sidled up to Freya with her chin pushed out and her head slightly titled upwards. “She has a poise, kind of like this.”
Freya grabbed a fluffy cushion and hurled it at her. “Can we just forget about this now?”
Lucy laughed. “No way!!! I’m going to use this for years to come! What are you doing anyway? Apart from getting yourself off in front of the mirror.”
“I’m getting ready for uni, believe it or not. I have my first lecture in a couple of hours and I’m not sure what to wear.”
Lucy snorted. “Well for god’s sake, don’t wear any of Kat’s boring shit!”
Freya grinned and returned to the open wardrobe. “I think she looks hot in her work stuff!”
“You bloody would, you dirty dog. No need to ask what you dream of at night!”
Freya reached back to the bed and hurled another pillow, narrowly missing Kat’s dressing table and cluster of fancy perfume bottles. “So what do you dream of then? Let me guess. Mr Puller and his tight trousers?”
Lucy sat down on the end of the bed and looked at Freya seriously. “You honestly want to know what I dream of?”
Freya was taken aback with the change in her tone so sat back down on the bed, giving Lucy her full attention. “Yes. Why? What is it?”
Lucy kept her face serious. “I dream of a world where chickens can cross the road without having their motives questioned.”
Freya frowned, then burst out laughing. “What are you on?!”
Lucy continued straight faced. “You know how it is, everybody always asking why the chicken crossed the road.”
“Yes, yes, I got it first time you weirdo!” she giggled.
Lucy jumped on top of her. “Says you, Miss look at me, I’m so sexy in the mirror!”
****
Lucy’s distraction had actually been a great way to calm her nerves and Freya’s day was turning out to be very exciting indeed. She had filed into the university lecture theatre with a buzz of nervous anticipation, eager to discover exactly what her three year course would entail. She had not however been expecting to find out that the first school placement would be as soon as January, and nor had the girl sitting next to her if the crazy expression on her face was anything to go by. Freya acknowledged the gasp sent in her direction and mouthed the word “January?” back.
“Shit!” came the silent, wide eyed reply.
Freya smiled and returned her attention to Elaine Springer, the principal lecturer, who was talking in a very animated and energetic fashion at the front of Theatre 32, as it was named. It was a modern, spacious, and very high room with rows of seats cascading down to the stage at the front. Freya had done the predicted thing, as had the majority of her new course mates, and opted for a seat near the back. The ten front rows remained empty with the plush red chairs still in the upright position.
“I bet you lot can’t even hear me!” joked Elaine, trying to put the nervous batch of newcomers at ease. She rose onto her tiptoes and made a loudspeaker with her hands. “Come on, all of you hurry down here to the front. Onto the stage. Come on!”
Freya and her new friend shared another frowned expression.
“I mean it! Come on, shuffle out of your seats and get down here. I won’t bite. I promise!” Elaine spoke with a real bounce in her voice which matched the tiptoed stance and beckoning hand gestures.
Freya edged out of the row and made her way, with the other mix of characters, down the freshly carpeted steps to the front of the theatre. There seemed to be a very complicated network of computers and television systems and loud speakers at the front, enabling the lecturers who chose to use it, a variety of modern technology to aid their quest of imparting their knowledge on the new undergraduates. Freya studied the people who were starting to form a circle, and realised just how diverse the group actually was. She had assumed they would all be recent A-Level graduates like her, but the varied age range proved her wrong.
Elaine lifted her arms out to the side and wiggled her fingers. “Righty-ho, hold hands please everybody.”
Freya looked to her left at the fresh faced girl from her row. The girl instantly lifted her eyebrows and smiled in response. Freya was just about to reach for her hand when the petite lecturer jumped into the centre of the circle.
“Just joking! Just joking! You lot look petrified. Relax! This is not school, this is not work, this is not that awful job you have given up to follow your calling. This is university...” she did a little spin, “...and you are going to have the time of your lives!” quickly adding, “and also learn how to be the best possible history teacher known to mankind!”
Freya smiled, it had been Elaine Springer who had shown her around the university on open day last year and she had been instantly drawn to her nonconformist approach. Elaine had openly praised the new modern university facilities and loudly criticised the tedious old lecturers they housed; her, obviously not included. She watched as Elaine grabbed the blue clipboard from the podium, sending her notes flying to the floor. A middle aged woman with a tight brown bun and long ankle length skirt bowed to pick them up.
“Teacher’s pet,” mouthed Freya’s new acquaintance.
“Please, just leave them,” insisted Elaine, “...they were just for show anyway!”
Freya caught a glimpse of the detailed notes being collected by the woman and knew her new tutor would probably be one of the cleverest, most inspiring women, she would ever meet.
Elaine lifted her funky triangle shaped glasses and studied the list on the clipboard. “I remember that I met a number of you on different open days, but I would just like to refresh my memory and give you all a chance to get to know one another. So, could I please have Gaynor Newman first.” She looked up. “Can Gaynor Newman step forwards please?”
The middle aged woman placed the last of the notes back on the podium and flattened her floral skirt. Stepping into the circle she spoke with authority. “That will be me.”
“Gaynor, I need age ... history ... hopes.”
The woman performed a regretful curtsey. “I do not feel at liberty to disclose my age.”
Elaine entered the circle and nudged her gently. “Oh come on Gay. We’re all friends here!”
The woman stiffened up. “No, a woman’s age is her
best kept secret,” she nodded at the balding man wearing the tweed jacket and red cords, smiling shyly at his approving return nod. “History ... well I have been a librarian for the past twenty five years, and my hope is to impart the knowledge I have gained from twenty five years in the library to the youth of today.”
Freya could not help but look at her new acquaintance.
“Good luck with that,” was the mouthed response.
A stifled laugh slipped from her mouth and she glanced up, praying that Gaynor had not heard; she hadn’t, she was too busy listing her favourite history periodicals to have noticed.
“Fantastic Gaynor, just what I was after.” Elaine lifted her black triangle glasses and added, “I can call you Gay, can’t I? ... Can I call you Gay?”
“No.” The answer was abrupt.
Elaine took a step back into the circle. “Sorry ... Right .... Okay. Freya Elton next please.”
Freya stepped forwards. “You can call me gay, if you like.” It was too good an opportunity to miss. Kat would be proud.
“I like it!” grinned Elaine. “Visibility is paramount in schools today.” She quickly turned back to Freya, “You did just declare your sexuality didn’t you?”
Freya nodded with a smile.
“Good, good!” Elaine lifted up her triangle glasses, as if letting the group in on a little secret. “Sometimes I get the wrong end of the stick and I just wanted to check,” she clapped her hands, “but great, great! If everyone was open and honest about their sexuality then issues with small minded bigoted people would disappear. Honestly, some people forget that we are in the year 2012 and it’s people like these who need to be educated ... or alternatively ignored. So yes, hoorah for you Freya!”
Her heart was racing, but it felt good. She noted the pause and began. “Well, I’m Freya, I’m eighteen, I’ve just finished my A-Levels and I hope I’m good at teaching because I love history and I want a job that I really enjoy.”
“Fantastic!” Elaine gave an impressed thumbs up. “Can I have Gregory Taylor next please.”
As Freya stepped backwards into the circle she sensed the eyes from her new acquaintance, penetrating her from the left.
****
Kat waved the last of the Sixth Formers out of her room; that lesson had been a lot harder than anticipated. The constant interruptions and outbursts from Chianne and ill-timed redundant questions from Chantelle had slowed the pace of the lesson. She slid back onto her padded chair; had she been spoilt with last year’s small group of ten? Were the results from last year a fluke? What on earth was she going to do with Laurel and Hardy at the front? She heard her phone vibrate in the desk drawer and felt instantly warmed as she saw the picture of Freya and a small flashing envelope. She clicked the message open.
“Already out at uni. It’s all cool ;)”
She smiled to herself. Freya was so headstrong and determined that she had never doubted it would be any other way. Closing her eyes she pictured the mischievous grin and sparkling green eyes that had greeted her as she had turned over in bed this morning; still unsure if it was a natural stirring or the result of Freya’s soft fingers caressing her back. She inhaled slowly, aware of the wave of contentment that washed across her whole being. She was happy, blissfully happy. Life is great she thought, opening her eyes, immediately shocked at the sight in the doorway. Diane Pity’s head was peeping around the battered blue door and her tits were angled to ensure they stuck out as well.
“Having a moment were we?” Diane flicked a leg forward and purred, “Can I join in?”
Kat looked at the patchy orange leg, huge boobs and heavily made up face that was sticking out into her classroom. “Please just come in Diane.” She stood up and brought one of the plastic chairs to her desk.
“Ooo, you are in a hurry.” Diane tottered into the classroom that was noticeably more educational than her own, with wonderfully colourful displays on each wall and thought provoking posters that encouraged the reader to strive for perfection and always give ones best. The only posters that adorned her classroom walls were those of her idol Peter Andre. She realised that she might have to make an effort this year, what with the approaching observations, and tape some of her student’s crappy work to her walls.
Diane eyed the neat exercise books on each clearly labelled shelf and wondered what it would be like to be a proper, well-organised teacher, who actually cared that books didn’t get lost and actually marked things on a regular basis. No, not for her, she concluded as she approached the desk, flapping a piece of paper in her right hand and using her other hand to straighten her tight red top; she had deliberately lowered it for the spectacle at the door. “Right, let’s get this out of the way first.” She picked up the plastic chair and placed it within touching distance of Kat’s knees. “Here’s my lesson plan.” Plonking the printed sheet onto the well organised wooden desk she took a seat and continued. “Apparently this is not a properly formatted lesson plan, and for some reason Cuckoo Kirsty and that drongo James Dapper have decided that we should be the focus of the first departmental review.”
Kat picked up the sheet and read the bold headline: FREE PRINTABLE LESSON PLANS 4U – ENGLISH.
“I mean what’s their problem?” Her beady eyes narrowed even further. “There are far bigger problems in this school than the way I format my lesson plans.”
Kat studied the brief piece of paper and turned her attention to Diane, noticing the normally hidden crevices and wrinkles under her thick layers of foundation. She was even close enough to spot the brown staining on her teeth. Diane was not much of a smiler and Kat suddenly wondered if she smoked.
Diane clocked the way Kat was drawn to her mouth and began to turn her lips at the corners, testing out her seductive smile. “So here I am, in your more than capable hands. Apparently, you are the one to come to when it involves the latest educational initiatives. I prefer to be all old school. It’s never done me any harm in the past, and the powers that be seem to change all of the crappy specifications and initiatives on such a regular basis that I think it best to stick with what I know.” Diane had no idea about any new initiatives but she thought her spiel sounded good. She gave another alluring smile.
Kat thought Diane looked slightly in pain and desperately tried to ignore the knees that were now resting against her own. She reached into the second drawer of her desk and pulled out a blank lesson plan. “This is the format that you should be using.” Diane had five more years experience on Kat, but both knew who was the more knowledgeable. “All you have to do is follow your department’s scheme of work and fill in these boxes.” She pointed with the end of her pen. “You have to fill in the Date - Class - Lesson - Overview and Purpose - Education Standards Addressed - Objectives - Information - Verification - Activity - Summary ... and then over here...” Kat lifted her pen to point to the final three boxes, “...you fill in, Materials Needed - Other Resources and Additional Notes.”
Diane lifted her lip and scowled. “All that for one pissing lesson on poems?”
Kat reached into the third drawer down and pulled out a lesson evaluation. “And then they will expect you to fill in one of these.” She lifted her pen again and began highlighting the boxes. “Were the objectives achieved? What role did ICT play in supporting the success of your lesson? Which other key factors supported the success of your lesson? What difficulties did you find in delivering your lesson?”
“I found difficulty filling in all of these pissing forms!”
Kat carried on and tapped another box. “How did you deal with these difficulties?”
“By not bloody doing it!”
Kat was enjoying the shock so she continued. “What feedback did you get from your students? And finally...” she tapped the last box, “...What changes would you make to this lesson, if any, in the future?” She calmly looked up at Diane, who was now completely flustered. “So that’s it really. Just transfer your lesson onto this plan and then evaluate accordingly.” She smiled. “Now
is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! I’ll flash you my tits if you fill in these frigging forms!” Playing the slow seductive card would take too long; she needed to get this relationship up and running.
“Excuse me?” Kat was relishing the feeling of power that Diane had stripped from her last year. It felt good, but she was not going to gloat.
“Everyone knows you’re Shit Hot Spicer who gets everything right.” She flicked her bleach blonde hair and stuck out her chest. “You do something for me and I’ll do something for you.”
Kat tapped her pen between her teeth, she had had her fun; enough had been said. “Of course I’ll help you Diane. But I don’t need anything in return.”
Diane stared at the genuine blue eyes. “You’ll fill in this goddamn awful form for me? What’s in it for you?”
“You asked for my help and I’ll help you.”
Diane scrunched her nose, perplexed. “Why?”
“Well, because you asked me to help. Now look,” she reached for her pen and started to write in the first box, “English - Year Seven - Period Five.” She tapped the second box. “Objectives?”
Diane leaned into the desk. “To write a poem.”
“Okay great, good start.” Kat smiled.
The door handle hit the grey filing cabinet and both jumped at the noisy bang. Fiona Mews stood hand on hip in the doorway, with her long black plait swishing from side to side. She flared her abnormally large nostrils. “Lester said you were up here. What are you doing?” She looked down her nose at Kat.
Diane blurted her response. “I’m being observed lesson five and I wanted to check my lesson plan.” The admission was rather sheepish.
