Office Hours

Crossing The Line

I woke up already thinking about her.

Not like a passing thought. It sat heavy and persistent. It wasn’t a crush, at least, I didn’t want to call it that. I stared at the ceiling, trying to shake it off, but it stayed.

Miss Elara. Our literature teacher.

I knew a lot of lecturers at this school. But I’d never felt this kind of curiosity, this need to know someone beyond the classroom. I didn’t want to just know her as the woman standing in front of the class, explaining texts and giving assignments. That felt too distant.

I wanted to know her. Really know her.

The realization made me uneasy. Why did I care this much? Why did I want to get closer, close enough to hear her talk without an audience.

I turned onto my side, exhaling slowly. There has to be a normal way, I thought. Something reasonable, something that wouldn’t cross a line.

Then it hit me again,

Private tutoring?

Not because I was failing even though I was but because it was the only excuse that made sense. The only way I could justify seeing her outside class without admitting the real reason. I wanted access and Conversation. Uhhh I’m so freaking weird.

Later that morning, I called my mom. I didn’t explain much, just enough. She agreed to pay for the tutoring without hesitation and asked me to get the teacher’s number, definitely because it had to do with my academics. I thanked her, my heart pounding, wondering why I’m so nervous, it’s so unlike me.

Back in my room, my phone buzzed nonstop on the bed beside me.

“Ethan,” Jamal texted. “Oh my gosh, have you seen Miss Elara’s i********:?everyone is talking about it.”

Before I could reply, Luca dropped a screenshot into the group chat. It was a beach post. Miss Elara in a bikini, a light scarf wrapped around her waist, the ocean behind her.

“Bro,” Jamal added, “she’s so hot and sexy as hell.”

I didn’t laugh. I shook my head, irritation crawling up my spine.

“You guys are so weird,” I typed. “That’s our teacher. Show some respect.”

Luca replied almost immediately, smirking through the chat.

“Bro, she’s actually just 25. That’s crazy. I’ve knocked up women twice her age. Way too young for a lecturer.”

I paused, staring at the screen. 25?…that’s only four years older than me. My mind started to wander, imagining things I quickly shoved away. Still… she really was young.

I scowled quietly, tossing my phone onto the bed,then hesitated. My Curiosity won.

I picked it back up and opened her page myself.

The photos weren’t cheap. They weren’t desperate. She looked confident. Her figure graceful and natural. I found myself staring longer than I was meant to.

“Oh my gosh…” I whispered to myself.

“She’s stunning.”

I swallowed, heat rising to my face, and locked my phone quickly.

Back in the group chat, I typed, firmer this time:

“It’s still not funny. Stop stalking her.”

I was gathering my books from the locker when Serena, my girlfriend walked up behind me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me softly on the lips.

“Hey, babe,” she said. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Let’s record a t****k later. That trend all the couples are doing?”

“Okay,” I said. “But after my class.”

“Fine,” she smiled, “we’re going to look so better than every one else babe”, she said giggling in excitement, pecking my cheek before walking away.

We were close and comfortable with each other and even though I knew other guys wanted her, it felt good that our relationship annoyed them a little. Still, my mind drifted back to Miss Elara.

When I reached the teachers’ lounge, I slowed down. Voices floated through the slightly open door.

She graduated here at Auburn University with a perfect GPA at twenty,” a lecturer said, voice dripping with mock admiration. “She’s brilliant, but it’s such a pity she ended up back here.”

Another scoffed. “I heard she wanted to be a writer. Guess that didn’t work out for her. Still, here she is, back at our school. It’s Sad really.”

A third voice giggled softly. “Can you believe it? So young and so accomplished… and yet stuck here. It’s almost laughable.”

My chest tightened. How could they talk about her like that? She is brilliant and ambitious, and they reduced her to gossip.

I stepped inside.

She was sitting at her desk, flipping through papers. When she looked up, her expression softened immediately.

“Yes?” she asked. “How can I help you?”

My throat went dry.

“I—um..I just wanted to—uh…”

She smiled, relaxed in a way that showed how young she really was.

“Hey,” she said gently, giggling a little. “Bro you can chill. Just use your words.”

I forgot everything I’d rehearsed. The room felt quiet. I took a shaky breath and tried again, focusing on saying what I needed to say.