Heather the teacher

Heather walks over to the schoolhouse and wanders into the front hall. A woman stops her short, looking her over.

"My name is Heather MacPhail, I'm in charge here!" the American informs the woman.

"Of course," she says. "Are you looking to help? Why don't you teach the senior class today? Our regular teacher didn't come in today."

"Hey, that sounds great!" Heather exclaims. She dashes back to her room to wear something appropriate for teaching, and settles on a short plaid skirt and a low-cut white cotton blouse. Professional, but casual.

On her way to class, Heather runs into Heidi. The young blonde woman is in her crisp white nursing uniform.

"Heather, you are so dressed up!" the German notes.

"I'm teaching class at the school today!" Heather tells her gleefully. "Can you come, too?"

"I will try," Heidi says with a smile.

Heather continues to the school and makes her way to the senior class. She enters and finds six teenaged boys spread around the room. Their glum faces brighten when they see their new teacher, and they exchange some excited talk in their language.

"Hi, I'm Heather, I mean, Miss MacPhail," she says with a giggle. She finds a piece of chalk and writes her name on the board. She turns to find the boys looking her over closely. "Where is everyone? Is this it for the class?"

"Yes, most boys work in the fields," one says.

"What about girls?"

They laugh. "No girls in senior class," another informs her.

"Oh, well, it's just us, then," Heather says. "Hey, I have an idea, why doesn't everyone come down here front and center, so we can all be close together?"

The boys hesitate, then start to rise and shift forward. Soon, five boys are huddled within arms length of their new teacher. But the sixth boy stays put in the back of the room.

Heather smiles nervously as she notices the boys staring at her breasts. "Well, what are we learning today?"