Teacher Student Stories Novels & Stories

Even if you say the word 'rat', she makes an irritated face. Obviously, she didn't tell me all this but I discovered it through conversations with teachers and students, because she’s somehow always present even when she isn’t around. Teachers, especially students are comfortable around me and end up telling me things I’m not even supposed to know. I usually talk to students when I’m on my weekly school tour or regular events in the hall area. Interestingly, Briar is one of the favourite students of many teachers, especially Mrs. Jones. Mrs. Jones doesn't have a daughter and if she would've got one, ‘she wanted her to be like Briar’ as quoted by one of the students. Briar does leave a lastin

Her lips set in a thin line ,as the girl mouths her a sorry. Shaking her head, the teacher leans back on her chair and sighs, tired of telling this girl everyday. "A very good morning Alexandria. What was it today?' The teacher asks, with a look of irritation evident in her eyes. Eager to hear today's excuse which she expected was again going to be one of her lies. Unknown to her,that today's story was not an excuse, it was genuine. "Ah Mrs Fernandes! You won't believe! A little squirrel was laying injured on the sidewalk near the school entrance!"

With graduation three months away, the seniors in my advising cohort still hadn't finished the internship credits they needed. I talked my father into taking all of them at Morgan Components: three thousand a month after tax, free room and board, weekends off. Brooke Hayes, our senior class president, was the first to object. "Three thousand? That's what you throw at a panhandler. Everyone, I've already found us placements. Eighteen thousand a month. They sign off on the paperwork after thirty days, and the company's flying us overseas on top of it." I told them it had every mark of a recruitment trap, and I called their parents. Brooke turned the whole cohort against me. They said I'd us

Teacher's Sweet Virgin Bribe Kristen had a naughty new story percolating in her perverted mind she was eager to write. Ms. Salazar, a young teacher at Kristen's college, had an infamous crush on Mr. Stone. The older, married teacher was quite the hunk. More than a few girls had fantasies about the confident man. Ms. Salazar's was so obvious. As the home ec club's adviser, she was always sharing with him the sweets and treats she baked with her girls.

Now, I would wait for it to go ba boom! The teacher she had submitted her books to was Mr. Tesfaye. He was the strictest and oldest in the entire school. Rumor even had it that he had been teaching during the time of the dinosaurs and cavemen. The Terra’s and Penelope’s of the world had nothing on him. He could not be taken in by her false compliments and deceitful remarks.

Hey, wake up! Her colleague knocked on her head from behind. "You're just a working kid. Don't learn from others and fall in love early! He's a math teacher of L! Stop thinking about it! He comes every week. There are many girls who want to chase him, but none of them succeeded. He's already frozen to death." "A middle school math teacher? Wow, so cool." Xia Gladyce rubbed her head, rolled her eyes, and raised the corner of her mouth.

At first it wasn’t much more than screams in the night, but soon it carried over into everyday life. I was never told the details of her dreams–that was confidential–but during that first parent-teacher conference, her teacher pulled out a folder of illustrations. Inside were several illustrations of a little girl with long brown pigtails standing in a large burning house. In some images there were bodies lying on the ground in puddles of blood drawn in rough streaks of red crayon. “I asked the students to draw memories from their childhood for a personal biography project,” the teacher explained, showing me the story written below the most graphic of images. “This one was supposed to be her

I abused him a lot but I just came out with an angry face. I could not have done anything else, my teacher was in front of me. I went outside and stood with my head down and was lost in my own thoughts. It had been just 5 minutes since I had started standing outside when I heard someone's voice, "Why are you standing outside, has the teacher thrown you out? Come, let the three of us sit together in the cafeteria and talk." I looked up and it was Shruti with Vivek. I started laughing after seeing them. "Should I stand outside or go inside, it is none of your business."

Four other people were sitting around a large oak table and they all looked older than me but they gave me a small smile when I sat down in the empty chair at the end. The teacher was a woman named Clara who had very bright eyes and she told us that today we were going to write a short story about a character who has to find their way home. She said that home did not have to be a building or a city and that it could be a feeling or a person. She gave us all a fresh piece of paper and a black pen and then she turned on some very quiet music that sounded like water falling over rocks. I looked at the blank page for a long time and I felt the familiar weight in my chest but I decided that I was

"It is. And once you know, you'll wish you'd turned me in from the start." "You don't know that." "Yes, I do." Vale sat back down. "Listen to me. I've been teaching for eight years. I've seen hundreds of students. Good ones, bad ones, everything in between. And in all that time, I've never met a student like you." "Because I'm a liar." "Because you're a survivor. Because despite whatever you're dealing with, you've excelled. You've worked harder than anyone. You've earned your place here."