Pulling out my phone, the screen is blank and empty and I hate the silence. Maybe I pushed him too far this time.
I palm my face and suck in a deep breath.
“Good Morning,” I announce.
A few grumbledmornings, followed by a fewheys,is the standard good morning melody of college students after a long weekend.
I ask the students about their weekend and a few rave about the Smashers back-to-back wins. Others have their heads tucked into their arms as they lean on their desk, with zero motivation to be here.
I feel you.
I start the lecture, using my dinner with Edward Russo—leaving out any names, of course—as a topic of conversation. Edward was driven, a true salesman in his determination to get my business. But, when is it too much? We chat about strategieson selling yourself, your brand, your idea, and the students liven up a bit.
I assign them in groups and ask them to come up with a joint pitch. I want them to work as a team and find a way to convince me. Convince me to need what they have. I want to feel that passion.
This isn’t necessarily a sales class per se, but in life we need to learn to sell ourselves, our brand, and they need to know how to build relationships and talk to people, so I came up with this as a way to push them out of their comfort zone. Most of these students are only comfortable behind a computer; it’s time to get them out in front of it.
As the students converse amongst themselves, my cell phone lights up with a text from Ethan. My heart beats heavily behind my breastbone before it jumps to my throat. A mix of excitement and worry battle each other and I find myself urgently reaching for my phone.
I click open the message; there’s no text, only a video. I squint then glance around the room, everyone is consumed in what they are doing so I click the volume button down then tapplay.
The video is aimed at the floor then pans up as I see a very familiar dark wood desk come into view.My desk.
I glance over my shoulder at my office door. It’s shut and I’m trying to recall if I locked it when I left last week.
Turning back, the video pans to myquote-a-dayflip desk calendar showing today's date—I sure as hell didn’t change that—and a quote; "One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching." - Gerard Way, then the clock showing the time. I glance at the clock on the wall of the classroom.Ten minutes ago.
What the hell?
I snap my gaze back at the video and Hannah appears onthe screen. She’s sprawled out over my desk, her pink dress is bunched around her waist, legs spread open touching herself.
I smother my feral expression as I clench my phone, my cock thickening instantly behind my pants.
Goddamn it. I turn around to look at the door as if I have X-ray vision and could see through it. Is she still there? It has to be Ethan recording, right?
Just as I internally ask myself the question, the camera flips around and Ethan's face comes into view, smirk on full display.
“Enjoy your class,” he says, as he records himself diving into Hannah, his tongue flattens as he presses his face in between her legs and the video ends.
Fuck.
If that wasn’t the best fucking invitation of my life, I don’t know what is.
Looking back at the clock, there’s still thirty minutes left of class.
Fuck it.
“Class dismissed!” I close my laptop and place it in my bag. They all look up stunned and some go back to talking like they plan to stay in my goddamn classroom. “Class dismissed,” I repeat. “Work with your groups and prepare for a practice speech on Thursday. This project will be part of your final so take it seriously.” Finally they stand and start to exit and I’m practically bouncing on my toes as I walk the last student out and lock the door behind them.
I’m at a roadrunner pace as I walk through the classroom. Reaching the office door, I grab the handle and use my body’s momentum to walk through it, but it doesn’t fucking open. Instead I crash into it, my shoulder zinging with the pain of the impact.
“Ow!” I groan as I grab my keys out, flipping through them frantically.
“You stop, you stop right now!” I call out from behind the door as I fit the key into the hole and turn the handle.
39
ETHAN
