Becoming Teacher's Pet

Well, Here we go again. Another month, another school, and it seems this one is about half a semester behind the one I just left. Gives me time to think, to sort things out, which is good. What is bad is that it puts me back in the Physical Fitness Test. If I do two more sit-ups, I think I'm going to puke. I tried to get out of it, but the vice principal here wasn't listening to me or my parents when we complained about me having to undergo this thing twice in one year. About the only bright spot in this is the Phys. Ed. Teacher for my class, Miss Eriksen.

She's exactly what you'd expect from a name like that; a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed teutonic goddess. She even has a heavy bavarian accent, occasionally peppering her vocabulary with German. Her warm, husky contralto reminds me of Kathleen Turner doing an impression of Arnold.

Right now, She's sitting on my feet as I wrench myself off the floor yet again. My elbows hit my knees, and she's doing her version of a pep talk as I keep crunching through the sit-ups.

"Sixty-Seven! Come on, Silverman! Ten more and you've got the high count in the school! Rachael, you're not going to let a football quarterback beat you out of the top spot in the Fitness test, are you? Nine more! Just give me mine more, Versteh?" There's a look in her eyes, she wants me to do better than everyone else, but why? She seems to constantly want my time and effort, and it's usually very physically demanding. I found, to my surprise, I wanted to please her. My poor belly muscles were already letting me know they'd had enough; but I was down to five more. I could do this, but god, I was going to pay for it.

I grunted to her at the top of each sit-up,

"I'm."
"Hitting."
"The."
"Wall."
"Miss."
"Eriksen."

I flopped on my back after that last one, moaning in discomfort, but looking up into her smiling face. I felt a warm tingle run through me at that, and wondered why.

"You did great, Silverman." The last bell interrupted what she was about to add, but she caught my arm on my way to the showers. "You're going to want to stretch, or that's going to hurt. I can help you, if you can stay after school."

Staying after wasn't a problem, especially if I told mom I was working with a teacher, but Miss Eriksen's constant pushing and interest in me was making me a little nervous.

My reactions to it were making me more nervous.