But She Is My Student

by Kiki Archer

  ‘Do you think she is married?’ He had asked.

  ‘Someone like that,’ the tiny bespectacled Jason had announced with authority, ‘is bound to have plenty of fellows chasing her.’ Freya remembered how he had put his right hand into his yellow corduroy trouser pocket and started to pace. ‘She probably has some rich fiancée who owns a yacht or the like.’

  Big Tom had winked, ‘Well I am not being funny but she definitely checked me out.’

  Harley had hooted, ‘As if! You have got more chance with me than her, big boy!’

  Bea had joined in, ‘I think she is incredible, so smart and so confident-’

  ‘Yeah yeah teachers pet,’ Tom had joked, admiring Bea’s ever so tight black Armani jeans.

  Freya had remained quiet; her assessment of the new History teacher was completely inappropriate.

  ‘You know when you kiss a guy,’ pondered Freya, hands behind her head staring into space, completely at home spread across the red satin sheets.

  Jodi grimaced, ‘That is one misfortune I have never had the pleasure to experience.’ She was not fussy with her women, she liked them Lipstick, Butch, Sport Dyke, Blue Jeans Femme, Pillow Queen, and her favourite was Gold Star Lesbian like herself, never slept with a man and have no intention of ever sleeping with a man.

  ‘Get out!’ shrieked Freya. ‘What, you have never kissed a guy?’

  ‘As if?! Why would I? I am a lesbian? I love women. The thought of kissing a man seems so unthinkable to me, so wrong, so unnatural, so cringe worthy. I would just never do it.’ Her small body shook with revulsion.

  ‘Well you know what...?’ declared Freya ‘Don’t! I mean their mouths are so big and stubbly and they have these huge tongues like slabs of meat pushing in and out and-’ she shuddered at the thought; a thought that last week would not have warranted such a negative reaction. Now however she was aware of what it was like to kiss a woman and it was incomparable, something so different, so meaningful, so complementing. Freya realised that women’s mouths fit together in a way that men and women’s don’t. She got the electric pulses.

  ‘Roll on Thursday Period One,’ giggled an excitable Jodi wishing the drama was her own.

  Chapter 3

  Kat sat in the old fashioned staffroom on a free period where she had not, for once, been stung for cover. She was sure that Kathy from Cover deliberately targeted her, but then again every other member of staff seemed to have the same gripe. Today however she could relax. She looked around at the clusters of brown woven, foam filled chairs. All had owners and she had learnt early on to stand until you were officially allocated a chair. The same with the mugs piled high in the sink waiting for Carole the Cleaner to scrub them in a hopeless attempt to remove the permanent brown circles etched around the inside. Kat always washed her own cup. She had again learnt in her first ever school placement that if you dared to use someone else’s cup or sit in someone else’s seat you were subject to absolute and utter contempt, the misdemeanour remembered for your entire placement, confirmed with tuts every time you entered the room and met the eyes of their original owner. The cluster of chairs worn more than any others, she decided, were the ones strewn around the English Department desk. Stray exercise books sat amongst a cluttered table full of trashy gossip magazines and what looked like a pair of makeup bags. The whole department could always be found huddled together at break and lunch - ideal for any students needing to find their teacher with a question or late homework - but Kat could not recall a single knock on the door and request for either of the English Department girls. She smiled to herself feeling that silly buzz she used to get when permitted to enter her old school staffroom, being asked to carry textbooks or pick up a folder from a pigeonhole. Staff had to be very cautious about letting students into their domain, mostly because of notice boards like the one she was reading now. Strewn in big red letters it said, ‘Calvin McGee isolated – told Miss Phag (with the original F crossed out) to, “Go screw herself sideways.”!’

  Kat sat cradling her warm coffee and reflected. Lessons were planned, books were marked, two months in and she was thriving. Her Year Seven’s had won the first two attendance reports, her Key Stage Three classes were going swimmingly and her A - level History class had been adorable. All ten students had handed in a fantastic first essay on the 1834 Poor Law. There had been a wide range of grades but Kat could tell that everyone had tried their absolute hardest. Big Tom’s was a bit short and little Jason’s was slightly pontificating, but all had tried. What had really surprised her was Freya. She had been mature, smart, funny and normal. Nothing had been mentioned, she had not hung around at the end of the lessons, and there were no longing gazes, no screwed up love notes. Kat snapped out of it, what was she thinking? Of course there would be none of that. Freya was clearly highly embarrassed about mistaking a dancing girl in a club with a boring History teacher. She had undoubtedly decided to bury it as a never to be repeated cringe worthy memory, and that suited Kat just fine; especially when she found herself warming to Freya’s kind personality and marvelling at her fierce intelligence, telling herself that she was just growing fond of her like she was growing fond of Harleys private anecdotes at the start of most lessons and little Jason’s authority on all things woman - even though he had zero experience. And Bea, she could not forget Bea, she seemed to get more beautiful every lesson, passion filling each perfectly articulated thought, her desire to understand glowing from her deep brown eyes; yes it was fine Kat decided, what had she been worrying about?

  Freya spent another lesson stealing glances of Kat whenever she turned to face the interactive wipe board. It was common school knowledge that Miss Spicer had knocked Miss Pity from English off the best backside top spot and as Freya looked at her today wearing another pair of perfectly fitted grey Whistles trousers she ached. Freya was an intelligent girl and knew she had to act normally, show Kat how mature, clever and funny she was. There was no way she was going to mention the kiss and act like an infatuated school girl or crazy stalker. What she deduced was that Kat had to be attracted to her. She liked her looks enough to kiss her without even knowing her, so now if she could show her the whole package, the personality, the charm, the maturity then Kat would acknowledge her in the way she hoped for every single moment of every single day; and it seemed to be working.

  Bea tapped Freya with her pen, ‘What do you keep looking at?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she replied sharply, returning her eyes to her weighty textbook.

  ‘It’s ok; I think she is gorgeous too.’

  ‘What are you talking about you weirdo?’ laughed Freya nervously.

  Bea let it drop.

  As Kat enjoyed her second coffee in the quiet staff room, Ben Puller, the handsome but rather scruffy Business Studies teacher sauntered in, ‘Bloody little buggers those Year Eights. Someone has got one of those watches that turn the TV on and off and apart from strip search them, could I find out who it was? Could I buggery!’

  Kat was really fond of Ben. He was blonde haired, rugged, and slightly dishevelled, but reports from her tutor group hailed him as a great teacher. He had befriended her in the first few weeks and laughed off the catty comments coming from Diane Pity and Fiona Mews the English Department cows - one of whom was clipping her way to the staffroom as they spoke. Ben had drunkenly snogged Diane at last year’s Summer Bash and she had been trying to get her perfectly manicured claws into him ever since. Diane Pity walked quietly into the staffroom, the noise from her ridiculous heels absorbed by the blue tiled carpet squares. She settled into her sunken seat and reached for a trashy magazine. Diane didn’t like Kat and made no qualms about who knew. She had heard Ben ask her out on numerous occasions only to be rebuffed by the, I’m too perfect for you Kat Spicer, and now again looking over at the pair flirting on the other side of the staffroom she felt jealous; jealous that the kids loved Miss Spicer, jealous that she was already being earmarked for an Assistant Head of Year role, I mean who gets that after two months?! She
opened the clasp on her see through lunchbox and bit nastily into a large leaf of lettuce, studying the backs of their heads; how dare my Ben have a new woman on the scene?

  Kat had asked Lucy and Jess’s advice one evening when it became apparent that Ben had developed a bit of a crush on her.

  ‘Well done Kat, you don’t usually notice things like that,’ chuckled Lucy over a bottle of cheap white wine. She looked slightly odd slumped on their voluptuous sofa with her black Nike leotard on.

  Lucy had just finished a body building class and was back for the night. Kat stared at her perfectly toned muscles. It was true, Kat was terrible at knowing when someone fancied her, always assuming they were just being pleasant or kind. But this time with four actual dates proposed she got the message and needed some friendly advice. But as Lucy and Jess were heatedly debating her plan of action she was staring at the bulging thigh muscles pressed against her legs and questioning why she was not attracted to her perfectly sculpted housemate. She decided that it was for the same reason she was not attracted to Jess; they were friends before she started having feelings for women. For that reason they were more like sisters to her; there was never any awkwardness or tension, each valued and respected the other for who they were; and they had a blast all of the time, making the most of their weekends and fast growing pay packets. Kat loved her life and was ready to act on the advice of her two best friends.

  ‘Do you want to tell him?’ asked Jess lifting the double layered chocolate box above her head to read the mouth watering descriptions underneath.

  ‘Yes of course, but I don’t know how he will take it.’

  ‘What does that matter?’ scoffed Lucy.

  ‘I don’t know, it just does, he is a great guy and I want us to be friends and I don’t want him to think I am just some man hating butch lesbian.’

  ‘Look at yourself, as if!’ wailed Jess and Lucy in despair.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just hard knowing when to tell people. I am not ashamed.’ Kat clarified for Lucy, but also for herself. ‘I am proud of my sexuality, but I think I just struggle to announce it. It’s just not important like that.’

  ‘So why didn’t you just say it when he first asked you out?’ Lucy asked, nothing ever complex or complicated for her.

  Kat thought back to the busy staffroom full of teachers, ‘Well I wasn’t sure he was and I didn’t want to sound presumptuous and then he asked again and I knew Leery old Lester, the dirty old teacher I was telling you about, and the English girls were listening and I don’t know; I guess I just don’t want my private life discussed by the whole staffroom.’

  Jess offered the box hoping no one would pick the Turkish Delight. ‘I get it hun, but you know people will find out don’t you?’ She popped it in quickly.

  ‘Of course, but I just want it to come out naturally and in its own time.’

  Kat was the consummate professional in school and always tried to get the balance right with her classes. All of the Sixth Formers seemed to know the ins and outs of Diane Pity’s love life which Kat believed was highly inappropriate and slightly embarrassing for Mr Puller. In contrast was the other extreme, Janet Louza, whom the students seemed to think slept in the dusty store cupboard, clearly having absolutely no life or interest whatsoever outside of school. Kat was consistent, firm and fair but still interested, approachable and warm.

  ‘Just tell him,’ they had said.

  So sat in the staffroom with yet another proposition for dinner she just said it, ‘I’m sorry Ben but I am gay.’

  Ben raised his eyebrows, ‘Oh ok, I didn’t realize. No worries mate, at least I can stop thinking that I have lost my touch!’ And with that it was done, all great, all fine. A perfect reaction thought Kat. What she failed to spot was Diane Pity almost choking on her salad sandwich and scurrying gleefully out of the staffroom door.

  Diana Pity was about to explode, ‘Run, Run, Run,’ she squealed to herself as she tottered along the long corridor in a fashion that her ridiculously high patent heels and impossibly tight yellow satin skirt were unaccustomed to. Her surgically enhanced breasts were spilling out of her tight pink body top as she urged her trotting feet to take bigger steps; her current attire making it a physical impossibility. She sounded like a drum roll getting faster and louder as she tottered past classroom after classroom down the never ending pale blue corridor of B Block. Diane felt ever so disappointed when passing Miss Phag’s classroom. The noise had not been as deafening as she had hoped and snatching a glance through the glass as it rushed by it appeared that some pupils were actually facing the front. Every teacher knew that you could judge a colleague by the type of noise coming from their classroom and as Diane finally approached Fiona Mews’s room there was absolute silence. Diane did not bother to straighten herself up, she just threw open the door and exclaimed in a loud breathy fashion, ‘I need a word please Miss Mews.’

  Fiona Mews closed the lid of her laptop hiding her facebook homepage. She stood up, flared her abnormally large nostrils and screeched in her high pitched shrill voice, ‘If anyone even coughs they will be in detention.’

  Her class of tiny Year Sevens did not dare to look up. Miss Mews was rumoured to have perforated a boys eardrum when he had, for the third time, pleaded that he did not understand. Her lessons were always the same, a very brief introduction, tasks on the board and forty five minutes of working in absolute silence. Fiona used the time wisely to keep an eye on her eBay bids and stay up to date with her 243 friends of facebook, some of whom she could not quite place.

  The heavy classroom door thumped closed and the noise echoed down the long corridor. ‘She is gay!’ blurted Diane.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Miss fucking universe. She’s gay. I mean gay. Properly gay.’

  Fiona was thrilled that her best fake friend had some incredible piece of gossip, but looking at Diane almost shaking with glee she could not figure it out. ‘Who is gay?’

  ‘Miss sodding Spicer, golden girl. SHE’S GAY’. Diane almost spat out the words. She had not felt excitement like this in months.

  ‘Never?!’ hooted Fiona, experiencing Diane’s feeling of utter joy. Her face quickly straightened and Diane fully understood why the pupils called her horse-face. She flared, ‘Is this just a rumour?’

  ‘No!’ giggled Diane, her thin pencil eyebrows raised higher than normal. ‘I just heard her tell Ben in the staffroom. She said, “I am gay”. She is a lesbian; a dirty little clittly-licker!’

  They held each other’s thin arms and did a little jump, a jump of pure exhilaration.

  ‘We will bring her down with this,’ shrilled Fiona as her garish orange and yellow neck scarf danced in delight. The intense jealousy they had felt at the arrival of Super - Teacher Spicer was instantly washed away with those three little words.

  Kat and Ben made their way out of the staffroom towards the dinner hall, aiming to avoid the surge that left tiny Year Sevens smeared against the narrow corridor walls. Ten minutes till the lunch bell, they had time.

  ‘We are going out on Friday to Gail’s in town if you fancy joining us?’ It was a genuine offer and Kat hoped that Ben would say yes. It would be lovely for him to meet her housemates and nice to have a colleague that she could socialise with. Kat explained how the girls’ rotated venues each Friday, Reflex with the revolving dance floor for Lucy, The Mailbox with its gorgeous wine bars for Jess and Gail’s gay bar with its electric atmosphere for her. The girls had a great time wherever they went and this Friday Gary had agreed to join them. He usually insisted that Jess had a night with just the girls at least once a week, but this week they seemed even more in love than usual and he had asked to tag along. Ben jumped at the offer which buoyed her confidence further. As they approached the large hall there was a buzz of flustered looking staff. The busybodies from Reprographics were handing out a letter in bold red print. Of the twelve or so teachers milling around the hall all seemed to read it, take in a gasp of air, shake their heads in absolute despair an
d look utterly horrified. Ofsted had just given their two days notice. Ben and Kat huddled over a discarded flyer. They were due in at Nine am on Monday morning for a two day school inspection. As Ben mumbled expletive after expletive Kat decided not to panic. She would view it in the same way that she had viewed exams, a chance to prove what you could do. She had indeed been the annoying child waiting outside the exam hall with a feeling of actual excitement, she knew she knew the stuff and now she would show the examiner she knew the stuff - and she did - A’s and A* across the board. This was the same she reasoned, yes there would be nerves, but hers would be nerves of anticipation, not nerves of desperation. As long as she planned well then everything should be fine. Kat went to touch the wooden table then stopped herself – Jess was such a bad influence. Ben looked pale, their planned night out was needed now more than ever.

  Chapter 4

  Kat rushed over to a slightly nervous, but still ruggedly handsome Ben. They were half an hour late. ‘I am so sorry, we got stuck on the Expressway, have you been here long?’