Hello, Mr. Arrogant!

I can feel pure excitement bubbling up inside me as I dash through the school corridor to my boyfriend’s classroom. The clock says I still have one hour before our date — a planned romantic dinner at a nearby restaurant.

But I can’t wait for us to be together! Honestly, I am ecstatic. It is my thirtieth birthday and our sixth monthsary. I have my own house and own a car. I have investments, some savings and a stable job. Mark, my boyfriend, is also a teacher like me. It’s a simple life, but all in all, life is pretty good. My mother is right, simple things are always the sweetest.

Moreover, after six months of being a couple, we can take a step further in our relationship. I can finally offer myself to a man. It’s been long due. I’ve been a virgin for three decades of my life. It’s not that I am adamant about keeping it until my wedding day, but I just don’t find the right time or the right man to lose it to. I just can’t go on a trip and give it for free, right? Just the idea of it makes me shiver in disgust. Imagine kissing and being touched by a stranger. It’s repugnant.

And so, arriving at the room, I notice that the windows are shut and the lights are turned off. The door is slightly open though.

Then A student comes out of the classroom. I remember that his name is Jason, the current school paper feature writer. He bows to me, and I acknowledge his presence.

“Good afternoon, Jason. Are you assigned to lockup duty today?”

I work at a public school, so it’s the students’ job to ensure the cleanliness of the classrooms. We also assign a weekly keeper of the classroom key and give them the responsibility to lock up for the day.

“Ma’am, actually…” he starts, closing the door without locking it.

“Is Mark there?” I ask, making a small smile as I glance at the room he exits.

He nods. “There is just something I’d like to ask.”

“What is it?”

He pauses for awhile, before asking, “Can the school paper have a feature on you?”

I cock my head at him. “What for?”

“You just won an award at the recent teacher’s conference, right? You also keep on getting promoted. And so, we think it will be motivational to get an interview with you.”

“Oh,” I exclaim.

Jason, being part of the school paper is now on his fourth year. I teach first year students but we know each other — exactly because of his insistence to get an interview.

However, that means more eyes will look at me. In truth, a higher position means a higher salary. It also means better room assignments and I will be able to handle the star section.

“Maybe next time?” I ask, declining the request.

“But ma’am, you’ve been here for a year…” he complains.

“There are other teachers too, other AMAZING teachers. You can interview them.”

He grimaces. He’s been pestering me for an interview since the first time I won an award in the regionals. It’s not that big of an achievement. Besides, I only joined for the prize money.

“How about this…” I start. “If one of your team goes to the national competition for the school press conference, I will do the interview. Not only that, but I will also go with you to the city, that is, if you want me there. After the competition, win or lose, I will treat the team to something nice.”

Jason brightens up and responds, “You promised, Teacher Cassie.” He starts to walk away from me as if he thinks that I will change my mind if he doesn’t leave soon. “Don’t forget!” he shouts at me while waving his hand.

“Just make sure you win!” I retort, shouting back so he’d hear me.

And so, when the young man is gone, I shift my attention to the classroom. The lights are dimmed and the room glows gently yellow in the low light. The sunlight from the windows has turned a warm yellow-orange.

This is my boyfriend’s, Mark Wood, classroom. He should be leaving soon because Jason left without leaving me the keys or without locking up.

I glance at my watch. It’s already close to six PM and we have a reservation in the local restaurant at seven PM. The restaurant is thirty minutes drive so we plan to go there in my car. He usually takes the wheel as I hate driving — it’s stressful and tiring. I’d rather spend that half an hour thinking of other things.

I enter the room. No one is inside. My shoes echo on the tiled floors. The tables are gleaming in the low light. A low murmur comes from behind the door to my left. Mark is a Home Economics teacher so his classroom has an extra room. It is where he store all the extra pillows, beddings and other stuff. It also have two bunk beds inside.

As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I realize that everything is cleaned up and organized, which means that Mark is ready to leave. He’s nowhere to be found, though. Then my eyes go to the closed door of the extra room.

However, I haven’t even opened the door yet when I heard unmistakable sounds inside. I’ve watched steamy romance movies before and I know how lovemaking sounds. That sound of flesh against flesh, those moans, and sounds of pleasure. I’ve long wanted to try it, but I never had a chance before.

And so, taking the key from the desk where Mark hides it, I unlock the door and push it open. I don’t know how to react to the scene inside. The new teacher, Hilda Ellis, who’s been a volunteer teacher for five years, is on all fours on the bed. And my boyfriend, of six months, is fucking her from behind.

I can see his length, which is midway from pulling out and thrusting against her again. It’s something I haven’t seen before. I want to cry because this scene seems too pathetic. I thought I knew him, but seeing him now, I think that I don’t.

If that is the case, do I love him? The only reason I said yes to him is because we are paired up. We are the only teachers who are still single. He also looks above average and has a nice body. More importantly, he has a sense of humor, something that I like in a guy. Otherwise, I will talk a lot about myself, something that I don’t enjoy. But then, as we go through with our relationship, I start to think of a life with him. I think it will be okay — it will be a kind of peaceful living.

“Cassie…” he breathes.

Neither of them is standing up or moving away from each other. Instead, Mrs. Hilda, a young woman of twenty-seven, is still impaled midway by his manhood.

I move closer to them, and then I look at his erection. I did the most painful thing I can think of while I am rattled by this sense of betrayal.

“Already erect, and only that big? I am amazed Miss Hilda is enjoying your stolen session.”

I shift my attention to the young woman and ask, “I hope your husband knows about this?” I take my phone and snap a picture of them, still conjoined with each other.

Fear suddenly appears on her face. She pulls back from my boyfriend—no, ex-boyfriend—and covers herself.

“You won’t tell him,” she hisses.

“That you are enjoying my ex-boyfriend’s tiny penis?”

“T-tiny?” Mark sputters the word.

Mark is focusing on the wrong word. If he doesn’t love me anymore, he could have ended things between us. Sure, I will try to make him stay. I will propose some changes to our relationship too. But in the end, I will allow him. He doesn’t need to do this behind my back. He is just making things worse.

“Maybe I should flirt with your husband instead,” I say, my eyes on Mrs. Hilda. “In that way, you will know how this feels like.”

“You whore!”

“And yet, who’s the one naked? Who’s the one fucking a man who is not hers?” I retreat from the room while smirking. When I reach the door, I open it and say, “Continue. Don’t mind me. I will even lock the door for you. For your privacy.”

And I did. However, the instant the door fits on its frame, my tears fall. Thirty years old, first-time boyfriend, a virgin, and yet, utterly cheated with a new, beautiful co-teacher that has only become a full-time teacher today.

I grin in between my tears. Frustrated, I wipe it all away. I sniff and make sure I still look okay. Guess I will have to cancel that reservation now. And so, I leave the room and walk towards my car. Students are nodding at me and I nodded back. I even take my phone and cancel my reservation. In that way — talking on the phone and looking busy — the students won’t crowd me.

However, the instant I enter my brand-new cheap car, I lean my head on the steering wheel and cry again.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone. When I open it and see the image of Mark and Hilda engaging in carnal pleasure, a wave of fury crashes over me. My whole world turns red as I glare at the image, my vision clouded by a storm of rage. No, I won’t take this so calmly like this! All rational thought is gone — replaced by a powerful rage as I toss my phone aside.

I can’t understand! Why is love is so hard to find? What the f*uck is wrong with me that Mark cheated on me?! That damn teacher Hilda — she had to cross the line this time! I won’t back down. I’m gonna get her! I will march right into the police station, show her husband the picture of her having her way with someone else, and let him know his wife is a cheater. I’m gonna wreak havoc. I will destroy her marriage. I will seduce her husband and take him for myself if I have to! I don’t care anymore!