Bates Motel Teacher Novels & Stories

"And again. And again. Until you learn your lesson." The door unlocked. The eight of them filed out, shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor. Theo paused at the threshold, still holding the phone. "Great video. I'll edit it tonight. Want me to send you a copy, Professor?" She didn't answer. Couldn't. The door clicked shut. The fluorescent lights hummed their indifferent hum. Haylie Bates remained on the floor of Classroom 4B, leaking, sticky, and utterly undone, while the silence pressed in around her like a held breath waiting to be released.

"You're not going to play hard to get now, are you? Why would the Princi bother about what the urges of two students?" "One student and a teacher." I removed her hands easily as she stood gaping at me. "My name is Ethan Whitmore and I'm the new chemistry teacher. Now, if you do not want to be suspended from school, you will get out of this room immediately." Her shock turned to anger as she stepped back hastily and picked up her bag. "How dare you!" He screeched. "You're going to regret this, Mark my words." With that, she flung the door open and stomped out of the class.

A music teacher had committed suicide in there by driving a silver stake through her heart, around the 1800s. I shut the door behind me and then email a backup of the files to my computer and to Wilma, just in case. Coercing a deal out of the boys with the proof I have will be easy peasy, but one can never be too cautious. I text Abraham, Luke, and Garret the files concerning each party, along with a kissy face and the message; ‘Freshman math classroom. Five minutes.’ And then I sit cross-legged on the teacher’s desk and wait.

There is a dead mouse stuck in the air conditioning unit during summer, filling the classroom with a foul odor. Henry Hudson, my homeroom teacher, instantly blames it on me, saying I don't shower. He mocks me for reeking of pigs and polluting the air in the classroom since Mom and Dad raise pigs for a living. He even insists that Mom and Dad sell our pigs to buy new air conditioners for the classroom. I flush with shame as I repeatedly insist that I shower every single day, but my classmates still mock me and call me "Stinker Tucker". I am forced to transfer to another school after enduring the endless insults and hostile glares from countless people. Years later, I head a major biophar

That was so wrong. “Oh, wow. That’s so weird.” Seeing his dad’s perspective, he found it reasonable. “But here’s the thing. Your bullies were trying to hurt you. Your mom’s bully was trying to kill her. You can look at the schoolyard like training wheels for adult life.” Some people will learn to ride the bike, but others won’t. I’m here to help your mom teach you to ride the bike. Mr. Bateman, his gym teacher, believed he was there only to babysit the kids because nobody wanted to have, but society would fall without them. Geoff didn’t really understand what he meant, but it wasn’t nice. He thought Mr. Bateman was one teacher that made their school bad, like his dad insisted it was.

I missed it even if I did not miss this shithead behavior. The teacher takes the notebook from him and seems to sit for a weirdly long time, even flicking a few pages and getting very serious. I am supposed to be writing, but I can’t help glancing to see if Dane actually bothered or not. “Are you feeling okay, Mr. Masterson?” the teacher flips the notebook around to face Dane and hands it back to him. “Fine…just bored.” Dane shrugs. “ Well if this is the result of your boredom, long may it continue. Keep up that work, and you might ace this class this term. I don’t know what cool aid you have been consuming this month, but I’m impressed Thou does possess a brain after all.”

“Why?” “You’re being a bad boy.” She lay down on her side, and I came behind her, pulling her close to me in a tight hug. “How can I change your mind, baby?” “I’m tired, babe. Let’s get some sleep. *** I didn’t listen to Maverick’s advice. I stepped onto the porch of the Bates house and rang the bell. A few moments later, Augustine opened the door. “Hello, Mrs. Bates. I’m—” “I remember who you are. I’m not senile. Why are you here?” She opened the door wide but neither invited me in.

Even just getting taught was a f*c*i*g battle. It was totally unfair. But as the teacher cleared his throat and made to speak, one of the students caught him off. “We're not feeling very well today. Leave.” The teacher barely waited till the words were completed before he scrambled towards the door. I stared open-mouthed as he hauled the doors open and walked out. “What the hell just happened?” I asked in shock. Patty sighed and leaned back against her chair, her hands folded under her boobs. “Another thing you need to know? If the Elites don't feel like learning, the teacher f*c*s off.” She said.

Typical. But Kae didn’t care; he just looked as unimpressed as ever, sliding into his seat beside me like the world owed him a nap. Mr. Bates was already mid-lecture, droning in that flat, soul-sucking tone of his. I swear the man could make fireworks sound boring. “It’s kind of a talent,” Kaelin muttered, his lips twitching. “Being able to talk for hours while no one gives a damn.” I snorted, biting back a laugh. Half the class was on their phones, the other half pretending to take notes. The “nerds,” as I liked to call them, were the only ones actually paying attention.

I couldn't believe she still had time to think about me. I crumpled the paper with my fist, glaring back at her with curious intent. “What the fuck is this,” I spat out, low but clipped. She leaned closer with a casual look and blinked twice. “Pardon me,” she said. I raised the letter a little above my shoulder and repeated. “What the fuck is…” “Maxton Carter,” the teacher called. I looked back at the teacher and dropped my hands. “Do you have a question?” He asked. “None sir,” I replied briskly.