Miss Laura Card, your busty history teacher

Standing in the doorway was Miss Card, your former History teacher and object of your teenage lust for the better part of a year. The sight of her standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and some fruit in the other left you absolutely speechless, how and why would she be here of all places? But then you remembered, Miss Card and Mr Hanson had been friends, along with many of the other teachers.

“Oh, thank god you’re ok!” There was genuine emotion in her voice, and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “We all thought the worst when the news came across the group chat!”

“Muh-Miss,” you stopped, remembered her name. “Laura…”

She took a step forward, and though her hands were full, tried to give you an awkward hug. “Are you alright George? God, it was so horrible, we didn’t think you’d make it. The hospital wouldn’t tell us anything.”

It quickly dawned on you that this was the most intimately she'd ever touched you, usually she would offer a reassuring little pat on the arm while in class but nothing more than that. The combination of both this and the concerned look in her big brown eyes leaving you absolutely speechless.

“M’okay,” you muttered after several seconds, still half in shock as you watched your beautiful history teacher fuss over you. You looked at how awkwardly she was holding her gifts, and then waved her inside. “Come in, sit down.”

She deposited the flowers and the various fruits on the kitchen counter and then went right back to inspecting you. Wearing more casual clothes than she ever would in the classroom, you took note of her firm, perky breasts that peeked through the cleavage of her blouse and it took an agonising feat of strength to tear your gaze away.

But she wasn’t looking at your eyes, instead she studied the slight scar that ran on the side of your head. “Oh, poor thing. What did the doctors say? What was the damage?”

“A flesh wound and a light concussion,” you answered. “I got lucky.”

Her eyes grew watery again. “It was so horrible George, and that poor family. I knew Tim Connors, he was in my history class last year. He was very fine boy, it’s such a tragedy.”

That brought about a strange swell of emotion in you. There was pride at being praised by the woman you had a huge crush on, but then there was also deep overwhelming grief at the thought of what your family must be going through.

But you were startled from your reverie when she reached across and took your hand, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. “I’m just glad you’re ok, George. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re…” her eyes darted away, “ you’re a really good friend.”

Oh, is that all I am to you? It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

“I’m ok,” you said again, lamely. “Doctors said I’ll be good to start back at work by next week.”

She nodded, though pointedly avoided your gaze. “Well…good, that’s really good. I’m-we are all looking forward to seeing you back.” She fiddled with her watch and an awkwardness settled over the both of you. Eventually she looked up and said, “I’ve been here yacking all day, but you probably need your rest. I’ll…see you on Monday?”

“Bright and early,”you agreed.

Miss Card paused at the door. “Uh, just…call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

She nodded again. “Cool Cool…uh, so, bye?”

“Bye…”

She left the apartment after that, but a smoke cloud of awkwardness hung around as you were left pondering things. Just what the hell was going on between Mr Hanson and Miss Card?