The Teacher.

Conrad Bells.

March 10, 2022.

My girlfriend broke up with me without any reason. We argued, and she threw her drink at me. It was expensive whiskey, and it hurt to see all my money and clothes drenched in it. Walking under the moon with the smell of whiskey and a broken heart is not the best situation I've ever been in. It's clear to see that she left me. I thought we could get married, but it wasn't meant to be.

I arrived at the restaurant as usual and told Kamila she looked beautiful. She was wearing a green dress that accentuated her curves, one of the perfumes I had given her, and some jewelry her mother had given her as a birthday present. Our relationship was unconventional, as my friends described it. They had come to know certain details about our sex life.

When we first met, I told Kamila that I liked extreme sex. She didn't understand what I meant, so she asked if it was similar to Fifty Shades of Grey. I thought about it and eventually nodded in agreement. It was similar, but not the same. I liked to have rough sex with her, to spank her, perhaps say some dirty things in her ear, and finger her until she cried with pleasure. I liked to do it hard without her consent until she was satisfied and begged for more. I told her all of this after our first kiss, and to my surprise, she wasn't shocked or scared. I thought, "This girl is amazing. She's one of the few who isn't scared by what I say." I thought we were soulmates. We were affectionate and at night, we were animals. Isn't that the perfect relationship? To me, it was a completely balanced relationship, something that I liked and filled me up inside.

Kamila was always a beautiful woman with many suitors. In contrast, I was a younger man than her. I had slightly long, wavy hair and wore black glasses because I was blind and hated contact lenses. My body was well worked out, and the hours I spent at the gym for a year helped me win the attention of the thirty-year-old woman. Currently, I am twenty-four years old, and she is thirty-two. We don't have that much of an age difference.

The fact is that this morning I invited her to dinner, and she happily accepted or so I remember. She was smiling, so I assumed she was happy to know that we would be eating together at a restaurant. After spending most of the day at work, I got home and changed, and she had already left, so I ran as fast as I could.

We were eating, and there was a moment when she sighed and told me to stand up. I didn't understand what was happening. She grabbed her drink, and I took mine, thinking she wanted to make a toast. I was so clueless.

The girl threw her drink at me and said we were through. Then she grabbed her things and left. She didn't even pay the bill! I was left speechless watching her leave the expensive place. I called her for a reason, but she didn't answer, and I stopped insisting. When I got home, my things were in a suitcase with a note. It turns out she was kicking me out, and her father had fired me from my job. I started working for her father shortly after we started our relationship, and I didn't know he was her father. When I found out, I was afraid that something like this would happen if we broke up. And I wasn't wrong. Moving in with her to her apartment and leaving mine was a bad idea. I'm homeless with a suitcase in my hand. Can my life get any worse? What will I live on now?

I continue on my way until I remember that Jeremias lives alone. If I go to his house, he might let me stay with him. We're not the best of friends; I don't have many friends. The friends I had were friends of Kamila's. Now that I think about it, I depended on her a lot. How stupid I've been all this time. For a man who likes to have rough sex, I'd say I'm pretty innocent when it comes to everyday life. Maybe too absent-minded. Whatever I am, I arrive at Jeremias's house, and the first thing he does when he opens the door is widen his eyes and spit, taking a step back so his disgusting saliva won't fall on me, and he grunts.

"What the hell are you doing here? Stop stepping on my lawn."

"It smells disgusting. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."

Jeremias pushes me, and I fall on my butt on a beautiful ceramic frog, the sound of the little frog breaking reaches my ears and his. The guy screams in despair and pushes me again, but this time, to pick up the pieces of the frog.

"Damn, look what you've done. It's one of my favorite figures. Can't you be more careful with what you do? You broke it, Conrad."

"I've seen hundreds of them in the market. Don't try to make me feel guilty."

"She was special, she cost more than a thousand dollars," he whines.

"Don't try to scam me! They sell them for five dollars everywhere. Stop being stubborn. It's not like the frog was made of gold."

"You're an idiot," he mutters.

He gets up and dusts off his clothes, walks back to the entrance of his house, and I follow him so he won't leave me outside. As I said before, we didn't get along. We had been enemies since high school, always arguing over childish things. I went down the science route, and he chose to be an English professor at a prestigious university. His house and the clothes he wears show me that he's doing pretty well in that profession; at least he lives peacefully in a comfortable and peaceful home.

"Jeremias," I sigh resignedly. "I need your help."

"What did you say? I don't think I heard you."

"I need your help," I whispered even lower.

"I can't hear you. Could you speak up?" he said this time with malice.

"I want your stupid help!" I shouted.

"What do you want, lackey?"

"I have broken up with my girlfriend, and I don't have a job. I need a place to stay until I have enough money to leave again."

"Conrad, are you listening to yourself? The only way you'll get a job in this day and age is if you prostitute yourself, and with your taste in women, you'll end up fucking only two of them."

"I'm not going to prostitute myself," I frowned. "Are you going to help me, or should I leave?"

"You can come in, on one condition," he raised his index finger. "You'll work as a substitute science teacher at the university where I work. We need one, and you need a job while you look for another. What do you say?"

"I don't want to be a teacher. I can't deal with kids."

"They're all adults, Conrad. No one's going to kill you. If you go, you can stay, but if you don't, you'll have to sleep under a bridge and cry because you've lost me and the fabulous opportunity to see me every day. And then you'll want to die. It would be tragic," he nodded repeatedly.

"I'll go, but I want you to drive me every day."

"Fine," he smirked. "You can stay in the upstairs room. No one will bother you there. We both live alone. You have to go to the university tomorrow. I'll send you the address on WhatsApp later. I hope you rest, you piece of the animal."

"You're not far from being rage-personified, Jeremias."

"Sure," he clicked his tongue. "But no one's left me. Someone left you, though. I wonder why."

I climbed the stairs to my room and left the suitcase in a corner.

Everything in this room was perfectly arranged. I had forgotten that Jeremias had a mania for cleanliness. When we were kids, he was always cleaning his desk. If someone sneezed on it, he would go crazy and start crying. He was a strange child, for many, he was just the kid who was full of love. I remember the students hating him for being the teacher's pet. It never bothered me, but I liked having better grades than him, and that's how our rivalry began. This time, I'll be the best teacher of all, better than all the teachers at that stupid university.

"Conrad! I didn't know you were here," Celia said, blushing. She was one of the few people I liked, kind and a good person. Not like her stupid boyfriend, who had allowed me to stay in his house. I'm the worst complainer.

"It seems like someone forgot to mention it," I replied sarcastically.

My life-long companion rolled his eyes and separated from his girlfriend. I allowed myself to admire Celia for a few seconds, her curves, her cute neckline, and the silky hair that drives Jeremias crazy. She's a beautiful woman, I don't know what she's doing with a guy like him. So ordinary. I wish I could tell her to leave Jeremias and be with me. But then, I would get a punch.

"Can I borrow your car?" I asked.

"I have to go to work too."

"I don't want to be seen with you. Look at yourself! You must have a reputation for being a party pooper if I'm going to be a teacher. I don't want to be like you, I'll be great."

Jeremias laughed and threw the car keys at me. I clicked my tongue and made a gesture. He doesn't know me well enough. I can be charming when I want to be. If only I didn't get tired of going to work, it could be fun. I'm tired of having to deal with so many kids. They can't be much younger than me, after all, I'm not going to a high school. However, I think of the aunts talking in the hallways and the rebellious guys who like to smoke. Then there are the athletes, those are usually the worst.

In my old university life, I was undoubtedly the nerd that no one wanted. It didn't hurt me. When some girls slept with me and then made fun of me, they were surprised and usually came back. I never changed my absent-minded personality or my boredom with life. I've tried to change it and haven't gotten any results. I've given up. I'll be like this for the rest of my life.

I stretch and get into Jeremias' mustard-colored car. This color is disgusting. I've seen girls wear this color in clothes, and I don't remember it looking so bad. Jeremias should wear my glasses, maybe he'll realize how ugly this color is. I sigh, wondering if I should take this disgusting car or walk. I shrug and get on my way. I'd rather let Jeremias walk than think about how ugly this thing is. After all, no one is going to care.

When I arrive at the university, my surprise is enormous, especially when I see everyone walking around smiling. I don't remember university life being so happy. It seems like a bunch of kids eager to make the most of their youth. My life wasn't like that. I was in the art club drawing all the objects that came to my mind. I had a teacher who hated that I was there. It was a club without members, just me and the president. A girl who was only focused on drawing. Her strokes were beautiful, I liked her paintings. Mine were mediocre, but I got better after spending all my years in college there.

I get out of the car and look around worriedly, straighten my clothes, and take firm steps to the office. When I meet the secretary, I smile. She's turned around and wearing a flowery dress. She looks beautiful, the dress is long, and her hair is black, tied in a high and well-arranged bun. I put on my best "I'm what you're looking for" face, and when she turns around, I widen my eyes. I push up my glasses that have slipped out of surprise and try not to spit out the juice I've just taken.

"She's an old lady. The woman I thought was attractive is an old lady, all wrinkled and looking at me like a piece of meat. Oh, damn it. Why did I have to look at her?

"I... I'm the new substitute teacher," I clarified.

"Are you here on behalf of Jeremias?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

She handed me some papers to sign and watched me nervously.

"Okay, I guess I'll go give my first class."

"If you see Jeremias, tell him his wife has been waiting for him. Tell him I'd like to have him under my bed. Just like the other day when I almost sucked him off..."

"I'm running late, I have to go!" I said quickly.

Is she an old lady stalker? Did Jeremias cheat on his beautiful young girlfriend with an old lady? Oh my God, I want to vomit. I need help quickly. My small body can't take it anymore. I came here hoping it wouldn't be hell, but apparently, the secretary has given me a very bad impression of this place. I look at my schedule and lift it. My glasses fall again, and I push them back up with one finger. The life I lead would be better if I were in my room playing video games. I'm a responsible adult. I try to think about every day of my life, but the weekends I have off are the days I can lock myself in and play until dawn.

Ah, who would have thought I'm a pervert and a gamer? I'm getting worse and worse; I don't seem to be a man. I still look like a kid. I guess being in my twenties doesn't make me an adult. At least, not entirely.

The first class I have is with the second-semester group. I peek through the door and see a guy sitting in the back row. He has his legs up at the front desk, and I close the classroom door.

"Are you comfortable?" I asked, putting my things on the desk without looking at him.

"More than you think, old man."

"Old man?" "Old man?!" He must be around three or four years younger than me. Why do kids have to be like that?

"I'm not old, I'm twenty-four."

"And?" he clicked his tongue. "Old man, why did you close the door? Maybe none of the students will come to your class."

"I'd be grateful if they didn't," I confessed. "I shouldn't even be here."

I leaned against the desk and lit a cigarette. I usually smoke when I'm stressed. My mom thinks it's a vice, but it's not.

"I think we'll get along. Do you have another one?" The brown-haired guy asked, I looked him up and down and shrugged, giving him one. His face transformed into one of surprise, but it didn't last long because he smiled. We looked out the window and stayed silent until the cigarettes were finished.

"This teaching thing isn't for me," I said.

"It doesn't seem like it," he said simply.

I threw away the cigarette and opened the doors. I had to close the window so that no student would think anything strange. They took a while to arrive, and the other guy stayed glued to his phone. I didn't pay attention to him; he was not someone who was going to do something stupid. He just seems like a confused and rebellious person. It was normal at that stage; I lived it for a week.

After all, what awaits me as a teacher?"