I glance up from the register, trying to shake off the creeping dissatisfaction that lingers over me like a dark cloud. I’m the head of Performing Arts and Music, but I’ve lost any drive to move further up career-wise. I feel stalled, stuck in some sort of limbo. I have no inspiration anymore. Workplace politics, lesson planning, and education department inspections will do that to any teacher. It’s not just work, though; my marriage feels stuck in neutral. Boredom greets me every morning over breakfast, just the same as it does my wife. The same routine, the same kiss goodbye, the same commute.A
Alexandra Ravensbrook
constant reminder that life isn’t turning out the way I want it to. It feels like a weary cycle, and I can’t help but think that the beginning of this school term won’t change a thing.
With a heavy sigh, I push onward with the register to start the term once again.
Yes, Miss
Chapter 2
Isabelle
As the final weeks of school creep closer, a thrilling mix of excitement and anticipation about what lies ahead surrounds me. I have secured a place in teacher training— I want to be a secondary Performing Arts teacher, just like Mr. Wentworth. The thought of following in his footsteps makes me tingle with anticipation.
Mr. Wentworth is everything I admire in a teacher. He’s pretty easy to look at too, which always helps. Tall and stocky, with chestnut brown hair that flops to the side slightly, falling in front of warm brown eyes that can make anyone feel at ease that are framed by thick, long lashes. His smile is slightly lopsided, but it radiates a charm that makes every piano lesson feel special.
He is so passionate about music and always patient with us as we struggle through difficult concepts but somehow knows just how to inspire us. It’s no wonder I, and every other girl in the year, have developed a total crush on him.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
He has taught me piano for the past year after my old tutor retired, leaving me in a total panic. I have my exams coming up and I felt completely unprepared, but he instantly took control of my lessons, keeping me calm and getting me well above the required standard needed to get my grade eight piano certificate. He is so kind during my little freak-out episodes, reassuring me that I have the skills I need and practicing over and over with me. I honestly couldn't have done it without him.
I hope one day I can be that person for someone—a teacher that is inspiring and dedicated. It certainly helps that he is total eye candy, and watching his fingers dance over the piano keys makes me think of what his fingers could do to me.
I’m not the only girl in my year to fancy him, but the fact I do, sends Matt, my boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend— into fits of jealousy. He was constantly telling me I would never be attractive to someone like Mr. Wentworth, that I am too chubby or too geeky.
When I finally stood up to him and told him he could never measure up to a man like Mr. Wentworth, Matt lost his shit. He was always controlling when it came to sex and often pushed me into things I didn't really want to do. When I told him to stop, I was called frigid or a tease. He would tell me I secretly liked it, that I just didn't want to admit it.
Yes, Miss
But that night there was no gaslighting.
No affection, lust, or even persuasion.
He was furious and screamed at me as he accused Mr. Wentworth of being a pervert and chasing after me and other students. There was yelling and tears, mostly on my part, and then finally there was Matt's anger. His cold stare, rough hands, and nasty words. I didn't have the strength to fight him off, and the terror that coursed through me was enough to paralyse me. I left his house that night and scrubbed myself clean. Clean of him, clean of his nasty words, clean of the self-disgust that I couldn't fight back.
I threw myself into my schoolwork, determined not to let that shithead affect my future. The whole experience had been draining and traumatising, but I refuse to be the kind of girl who just laid back and thought of England, so to speak, or was gaslighted into thinking his behaviour was even acceptable. He had called me a frigid bitch and a slut. The irony of those contrasting terms was clearly lost on him.
He has ended up with Charlie May Baxter now. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that when I heard. Considering her reputation, whether it’s warranted or not, I wish nothing but good luck to her. I hope Charlie May is ready for his particular brand of drama and fuckery.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
With the prospect of my own future looming ahead, I do my best to focus on the positives. I’m ready to carve my own path, starting with teacher training. For now, I’m determined to finish my exams strong and embrace whatever comes next.
And now, I have another lesson with Mr. Wentworth. Swoon.
Yes, Miss
Chapter 3
James
A gentle knock sounds on the music room door. Glancing at the clock, I realise time has gotten away from me and that it’s already time for Isabelle’s piano lesson.
I pack away my half-eaten lunch and finish the last dregs of my coffee as I rise from my desk and approach the piano.
“Come in, Miss Matthews,” I call. I wave her in as her head peeks around the door, the sounds of student chattering filtering in from the corridors.
