As soon as Mr. Scott closed the classroom door on his way out to lunch, I clicked through the inbox of his e-mail he’d left up. I’m not exactly sure what I was looking to find, I guess just more about him, or anything from his wife. He’d told me quite a bit this year since I had been his Student Aide. Things he probably shouldn’t have, and definitely backtracked quite a bit while explaining. I knew he had a secret vasectomy, was most likely fucking someone else, and things clearly weren’t good on the home front. Not really things one should know about their teacher. It’s like his wife knew though, and every time she’d call and I’d answer because he was teaching, she’d be the biggest cunt, almost always hanging up on me.
It just felt weird that I had spent this entire year with him, and knew all these personal things about his marriage and stuff, but not really much about him. I somewhat thought of him as a sort of father figure. I could tell he really wanted to talk to me, but felt guilty because I was a student. His wife was right to hate me, I had always wanted him, and now that I was eighteen, I wanted him to give him my virginity. I was leaving for college in exactly 90 days, and would probably ever see Mr. Scott again, and didn’t have much time.