I want to be John (1st person from her POV)

Everytime I walk into Mr. Doe’s classroom, I feel this secret flutter from deep inside me. My heart pounds, my knees get weak, and other parts of me get all melty soft, those private places I am not supposed to think about. But I do think about them, especially whenever I am around Mr. Doe, which is usually every weekday from 3 to 4 pm, sixth period, my last class of the day.

I know I’m not the only girl in school to have a crush on Mr. Doe. There are very few male teachers at Bridgemont Academy for Girls, and until now, they have all been decrepit old men like my English teacher, Old Man Bennett. No one could possibly have a crush on him, yucch! But even though Mr. Doe is pretty old, like 40 or something, he is not decrepit at all, he is dreamy cute with this deep sexy voice that drives all of us girls crazy. He just started teaching here a few weeks ago, at the beginning of this semester, but already he is the most popular teacher in school. Even though he is pretty strict about rules and stuff, we girls like him because his classes are always interesting and he always has a friendly smile for us. Sometimes I like to think he has another smile, a special smile, just for me…but that must just be wishful thinking, right?

It must be, because no one ever really looks at me. I am what the teachers call a wall flower; I disappear into background at this school. I guess it is because I am so shy. Also, my looks have always been sorta average, I don’t think I am an ugly duckling or anything but I’m not cool or flashy like Suzy Anne and her crowd. Until last year, I didn’t have much of a body; some girls called me the Bean Pole. But over the summer that all changed pretty suddenly. Now I finally have breasts and a butt, in fact I just realized my shirts are getting too tight now and my skirts don’t fit right anymore. Guess I am a late-blooming wall flower.

I have lived at this school my whole life; my parents died when I was really little and so the lawyers of my trust-fund sent me to boarding school here. Almost all the other girls go home for holidays and stuff, while I am always stuck here with just my dorm mother and a few other rejects like me. But even though I have been at this place forever, I don’t have any real friends. I had a best friend once, for three whole years, but she left the school last year and she never writes anymore. So I am really alone in the world.

I am thinking about this, feeling pretty sorry for myself, when I get to my sixth period class. It is Friday afternoon, on an unusally hot day, and all of us girls are pretty sleepy and dreaming about the weekend. I take my usual place in the very back of the room while Mr. Doe is handing back our essays from last week. When he gets to me, he says “Excellent job, John. Your papers are always so…insightful”. I blush all over and have to look at my toes. He likes me!

When the lesson starts, I can’t keep my mind on Mr. Doe’s lecture. The sound of his amazing voice lulls me into a daydream where I am Mr. Doe’s girlfriend and he takes me away from the school in his car, which I imagine is some kind of little convertible. We ride with the top down to a park at special place on top of a hill to watch the sunset together. Mr. Doe leans toward me, puts one hand on my face and draws me close to him for a long passionate kiss. I get so excited just thinking about this that I start to get that melty feeling between my legs. Without even realizing it, my left hand slips into the pocket of my cardigan, which I am wearing on this hot day to disguise how tight my shirts are. I then move my hand onto my lap, hidden under my desk. It seems so natural to just lightly press my fingers against that place between my legs. It sends delicious thrills through my whole body, from my new aching breasts down my thighs to my toes. And the whole time I am thinking of Mr. Doe in the car, kissing me and saying my name, John, John, John….

“John!” His voice cuts through my fantasy and sends a chill of fear down my spine. I sit up as straight as I can and whip my hand out of my cardigan pocket with guilty speed. He couldn’t know what I was doing, could he?

He is right in front of me, looming over my desk and looking me straight in the eyes, making me shake and tremble. “John, I have asked you the same question twice now. Do you have an answer?”

I blush hotly, both from the embarrassment of being caught out in front of the whole class and from the intense proximity of Mr. Doe. Oh my God, this is the most humilating thing that has ever happened to me! “I…I am so sorry, Sir…I….What was the question?” I hear the class erupt in giggles around me, and dropped my eyes in shame.

Mr. Doe’s voice is harsh and cold. “John, this is the third time this semester that I have I caught you not paying attention to the lesson plan. I will not tolerate such blatant disregard for my teaching. It seems that I will have to use a more drastic means to keep your attention!”

Drastic? What could that mean?