Hot For Teacher (gxg)

chapter one

The first semester exam was cause for concern. While I had diligently studied all the subjects necessary to pass and earn the respect I desired, there was one teacher in particular whom I aimed to impress. Since I had been learning from her for a year, I had a strong desire to meet her standards. Despite consistently receiving good grades in her class, I yearned to exceed her expectations and witness the satisfaction reflected in her smile. While my peers seemed satisfied with their grades, I felt compelled to earn even more praise from Ms. Yeong, my history teacher, whom I both admired and feared.

"I assume that everyone has been preparing for this test," she remarked upon settling into her chair, adjusting her bun. "All I ask now is for you to compose a paragraph on the beauty of Aphrodite and recount a tragic tale associated with her."

My friend Francis turned to me, exhaling shakily. "I just know I'll fail this exam," she confessed.

"You never know, you might pass," I countered, offering a hopeful smile, though she shook her head dismissively. Francis tended to be negative, but that did not deter my determination to impress Ms. Yeong.

"Might," she echoed, her gaze fixed on Ms. Yeong, who was scanning the room, seemingly overlooking me. "Just wait, she will get more out of me for sure—"

"You have an hour to complete your essay, and keep it under two thousand words." Ms. Yeong interjected, her tone flat and authoritative.

"Shit," I muttered, hastily retrieving my pen from my tote bag. "Good luck, Francis."

"Same to you–"

"No talking." Ms. Yeong's gaze fell on us, catching my eye. Panic surged within me. Should I look away?

I recall my initial encounter with Ms. Yeong last year. when I arrived late to her class, I felt a flutter of nerves. She had peered at me then, sighing heavily and expressing her disdain for tardiness. Her height and beauty had left me almost speechless, making me feel small in her presence. She seemed almost divine, akin to Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. I imagined both men and women quivering in her presence. Even though she seemed intimidating, her words were soft, especially when she spoke to me. It felt like a form of special treatment, perhaps earned through consistently performing well in her class. Disappointing Ms. Yeong was inconceivable; she exuded an aura of elegance that I could never hope to match.

While tackling the exam, my gaze incessantly gravitated towards Ms. Yeong. Seated at her desk, she intermittently glanced up, assessing our progress on the essays. I found myself repeatedly drawn to her presence, until she eventually caught me in the act.

And in that moment, her eyes met mine.

Those fleeting seconds held significance for me. I confess to harboring a slight infatuation for her, yet it remained just that—a harmless crush. I valued her occasional expressions of appreciation, such as a reassuring pat on the shoulder and compliments on my knowledge of any particular subject. On occasion, she'd casually mention having perused a book I brought to class, noting her own lack of time for leisure reading with a smile before seamlessly moving on. I dreaded the chance of her engaging me in conversation beyond books, perhaps seeking to understand me on a personal level, though I knew such an occurrence was unlikely. It remained a pleasant fantasy.

Following the completion of the exam, as each student submitted their essay, I approached Ms. Yeong's desk, offering her my paper with a tentative smile.

"I hope this meets the word limit," I remarked, with a nervous laugh. Accepting the paper, she smiled, our fingers briefly brushing against each other. Is this what it feels like to have your teacher acknowledge you? Because it felt strangely exhilarating.