The Education of Joey Granger

From behind her desk, Eliza Matthews watched as the second-to-last student shuffled out of her classroom, leaving her alone with Joey Granger. Noting that he was now the last of his peers, the young man stood up, collected his materials, and approached her. She leaned back, looking at the lanky senior. There wasn't much to him, both physically and scholastically. Maybe after she holds him back he'd be able to address at least one of those shortcomings.

"So," she said.

He offered no response. She hadn't expected one. Not from Joey Granger.

“Do you know why I asked you to stay?” she finally asked, her voice even and measured.

Joey shrugged, his face burning red, eyes glued to the flood in front of his feet.

She reached forward, plucked his failed test from his hands and placed in on the desk between them. At a glance the large red 'F' emblazoned on the top of the page shone out like a flashlight. Perhaps she had overdone it, been too dramatic, but the disappointment she had felt in grading his paper was too much. Joey Granger should have known better.

“This," she pointed at the 'F', "is unacceptable. All year I've been waiting for you to catch on, to catch up. Underperforming is what you've done. And not just on this test. Every assignment. Every quiz. Your effort has been, at best, minimal. Don't you care about your future?”

Joey’s eyes flicked up briefly before he dropped his gaze again. His shoulders hunched forward defensively.

"Nothing to add?" she knew he was shy, but this was too much, "I would think that you'd at least try to plead your case."

Again nothing. The boy was a pressure cooker, holding it all in, no tools for communicating his feelings. She sighed. There was only so much she could do.

“Just for the sake of context, I think you should know that I wasn’t planning to pass you, no matter how well you did on this test,” she continued in a cold, stoic tone, “I cannot in good conscience allow you to graduate, not when you have demonstrated to me that you are unready for the real world, and unwilling to make the effort. My job as a teacher is and aways has been to make sure students are prepared to move forward, not to hand out free passes to those who refuse to try.”

“That’s not fair,” Joey muttered, finally speaking up, “You can’t just decide I’m not ready.”

“It’s exactly my responsibility to decide. High school is supposed to prepare you for life, Joey. If you aren’t willing to put in the work here, you’re setting yourself up for failure out there.”

The words hit him like a slap. His face turned a deeper shade of red, but he looked up at her, which was an improvement. If he was going to get anywhere in life, he would have to learn to put in the effort, and what better place to start that was advocating for yourself to your teacher. Too bad it was coming too late, “Give me another chance. I’ll do better...”

“You’ve already had plenty of chances,” she interrupted, "more chances than I should have allowed. You blew past deadlines. Then you blew past extensions. You never followed up on the tutor I recommended. Even when I gave you a warning about this test, told you what the important information was, you still failed,” She paused, slowing herself down, then, “It's not my job to hold your hand and walk you through it. If I help you too much, you'll never succeed.”

"Um, actually," her student said, an angry, sarcastic tone in his voice, "It is exactly your job to help me succeed. You’re supposed to build me up, nurture my confidence, and help me become a man."

Joey stopped, took a breath, seeming to realize that he might be over the line, but then he continued, a crack of emotion in his voice, "What kind of teacher ruins a kid’s self-esteem? Aren’t you supposed to guide people, not punish them?”

Joey’s words hung seemed to echo through the room, through her mind. Elize Matthews drew herself up in her chair, ready to slice through his excuses with logic and authority. Her rebuttal was practiced and waiting: Teachers guide, but students must do the work. You alone are responsible for your success. Failure is a lesson, not a punishment.

Only the words did not come.

She felt confused for a moment. A moment ago she was sure she was ready to argue her point. She knew best what her roles as a teacher were, not some student. Except, now that she thought about what he had said, Eliza wasn't sure that she did.

"It is exactly your job to help me succeed."

Yes, that was what he had said. She let the words roll around in her mind, comparing it with how she saw the world, with he university education, with her upbringing. Strangely, although she knew that there were ways to argue the point, she could see no holes in the logic. Her job was, exactly, to help Joey Granger succeed. Luckily, for his classmates, helping Joey succeed would give them opportunities to succeed as well, but that was none of Eliza Matthews' concern. What concerned her was that she was failing at her job.

Thank God Joey had pointed out the error in her thinking! There was still time to help him, to get him across the finish line. Of course his failing grade would have to be changed, that was easy enough, but there was more. How were the grades in the rest of his classes? How were his career aspirations? How was his social life? Eliza had work ahead of her with this one.

But how was she going to start?

"You’re supposed to build me up, nurture my confidence."

As if she was Moses hearing words spoken by God himself, the truth Joey had spoken rang loudly in her ears. Of course! That's a perfect place to start! When was the last time Eliza had given Joey a compliment? When was the last time she had told him how great he was, how good looking, how kind, how clever...

Never, that's when.

Well, that's not what Eliza was supposed to be doing! Eliza was, in fact, supposed to be building him up. He obviously knew that, and she was dramatically derelict in her duties. No wonder he had such low self-esteem. The woman who was supposed to be taking care of his confidence, nurturing it to the the point where he felt built up, was doing the opposite. He must have felt like utter garbage, and it was all her fault.

Eliza's curriculum was all wrong. She had been teaching facts and dates when she should have been teaching him to believe in himself.

The realization swept through her, powerful and undeniable. Her mind filled with images of how she had approached him in the past, always correcting, criticizing, pointing out where he had fallen short. How many times had she delivered comments that chipped away at his self-esteem instead of building it up? How often had her stern demeanor conveyed disappointment rather than encouragement?

That has to change, and it had to change immediately. Staring at the boy, anger still locked in his eyes, she knew that his predicament was all her fault. She should have been showing him what’s good about him. His strengths. His potential. Who cares about the Magna Carta and the War of 1812? What was important was Joey's self-image.

Every conversation, every interaction, was an opportunity to strengthen him. Every word she spoke to Joey should be a brick in the foundation of his self-worth. He needed praise, affirmation, and the constant reminder that he was capable of great things. Her job wasn’t to find fault, it was to help him succeed and believe in himself, that he could do anything, be anything he wanted.

Except she had no idea what he wanted, where he was headed, what his future held. What kind of person was he going to become?

"Help me become a man."

Well.

Okay then.

The weight of his words settled in her chest, heavy with truth. It was a daunting task, guiding him into manhood, but as she turned the thought over in her mind, it clicked into place with a sense of inevitability. He was right. This had always been her role, hadn’t it? She had just been too blind to see it before.

Obviously it would be up to Eliza Matthews, Joey's history teacher, to guide him out of adolescence and into manhood. If she wasn't up for the challenge, she would have studied to teach something else, like gym or drama. No, Eliza's job, her task, her calling was to help Joey become a man.

She eyed her student slowly, from his head to his toes. His slim body showed none of the bulk that some of his beefier classmates had taken on in the last couple years, and yet Joey had indeed matured. Even in the last year she had seen him grow, in a physical and a spiritual sense. Yes, he hadn't tuned into her class (mostly her fault, she now realized), but she had heard from some of his other teachers about his work, about his maturity, insights she hadn't been able to gain in her own class.

But that was in the past. Eliza had a task ahead of her. She needed to help Joey become a man.

Again her eyes swept his body. So much of growing up was physical, carnal even. Her eyes paused, her breath catching again as they lingered at his hips, the hem of his jeans slung just a little low.

There, she thought. The very seat of his manhood.

Her heart quickened in her chest. She had tried to teach him history, facts and dates and dead men’s deeds. But wasn’t the history he was making now far more important? The quiet, unseen growth of boy into man, hidden beneath the surface of shy glances and restless hands? She let her eyes trace the line of his jeans, imagining what lay just beyond her sight.

What was it like for him?

She thought of him alone in his room, the tension of burgeoning desire coiling inside him, his own hands his only guide. Eliza winced at the knowledge of how many opportunities she had missed, how many times he had taken his education, her own job, into his own hands. How many times had he fumbled with the awkward urgency of youth, his mind filled with dreams of women beyond his reach? She had been blind to it before, but now she knew: his transition into manhood was incomplete because no one had shown him how to claim it.

Manhood isn’t just about grades and responsibility.

She leaned back, her fingertips curling against the desk. Manhood had always been abstract — a concept, a lesson. But here it stood, the potential taking shape before her. Joey Granger. Lanky. Awkward. Waiting. And it was hers to guide, to nurture, to grow. Eliza was up to the task, of course. Why else would she have taken all those student loans and become a teacher? What had occurred in the past, the lapse in her responsibility, was only a slip, a misalignment. She was so thankful that Joey had reminded her of what her job really was, why she had gotten into teaching in the first place.

She looked at her reason in the eye and smiled.

He needed her.

He needed her to help him succeed. He needed her to build his confidence. But more than that, he needed her physically. Sensually.

To be honest, Joey wasn't what most women would call 'a catch'. He was so average, so forgettable. Eliza herself knew what she brought to the table, and had been quite selective when picking partners. Her last boyfriend had been a firefighter, a big hunk of a man who had landed a page in last year's fundraising calendar. Mr. July. Unfortunately her speedo wearing centerfold had decided that a big shot like him didn't need to stick with one woman, so she had walked.

Joey wasn't Mr. July. If Eliza didn't act decisively, step in and take on the role she was born to play, ensuring his education, it would be years before he experienced the sensual touch of a woman. And that would be unacceptable. If he needed to become a man, experience what it was like to be touched, to be lusted after, to be dreamed about, Eliza would take care of it. It was her job, after all.

She swallowed, a rush of heat rising in her chest as her mind wandered further. It would be a shame if his education in become a man was reserved entirely to her. Older, more experienced women, would be an excellent unit in the syllabus of his manhood education, but there was so much more out there for Joey. He should feel the thrill of a young girl’s kiss, she mused, the soft, hesitant touch of a first love. Her lips twitched into a faint smile. He should know the wild, intoxicating passion of someone bold, someone who would push his boundaries.

Her pulse quickened. He deserved all of it. He needed it. And she would help him find it.

The certainty filled her, a steady warmth spreading through her veins. She would be his guide, not his gatekeeper. She would show him the possibilities, open the doors he had never dared to approach. And she would be part of it. Not just an observer. Not just a teacher.

Her role was active.

Essential.

She exhaled slowly, her gaze returning to his face. He was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and hope, still waiting for her judgment, still bracing for the weight of her disappointment. He didn’t know how much had changed.

The smile on her face grew, her fingers curling against the desk.

“Joey," she said in a soft voice, "I have to apologize. You, of course, are right," she grabbed the test, crossed out the 'F' and replaced it with an 'A', "If you'll give me another chance, I promise I'll work harder at making it better."

Her voice was calm, but her heart raced with anticipation.

Joey looked her in the eye, his eyebrows shooting up. He opened and closed his mouth once, then twice, then on the third time, he said what seemed to be an indication that she had not property explained herself.

"What... what?!"