Free Wee Danny by Gerard Brennan

Teacher's Pet
     

    Miss moves as if she knows I want her. She can read my thoughts sometimes. Sends me wee signals to prove it too. Like when the pencil rolled off her desk at the start of this class. It landed right in front of me. I pushed back my chair, ready to pick it up for her but she just raised her hand, cool as fuck. And then she stepped in front of me, hunkered down so that her perfect arse almost touched the floor, and snagged the pencil. She stood and twisted in one dance-like motion and I caught a glimpse of her knickers above the waistband of her black trousers. Then she adjusted the hang of her green blouse. The patch of pink cotton and tanned lower back disappeared and took the spit from my mouth with it. It happened in seconds, but I've replayed the images of Miss's graceful retrieval over and over for the last twenty minutes.
    Time's funny in this shithole. I've been here for three years now. Three years that sometimes feel like they just disappeared and yet it's as if I've been banged up my whole life. My memory of the outside is sketchy; the last few weeks leading up to getting scooped, a blur. A class with Miss lasts a blink, but a session with the psychologist drags like Mass. At least the finish line is in sight. They have to let me out shortly after I turn eighteen, unless I give them an excuse to drop me in real jail. But I'm not going to let that happen.
    I got some GCSEs last year. Even achieved A grades in the important ones, English and Maths. I'm doing a few more this year so that I can get into a half-decent tech and qualify for a good job. That's what's been planned for me, anyway. Fuck knows what'll actually happen. I don't even know if I want to work in an office or a kitchen, or at all. But at least I'm still young-looking. If I do end up in tech, the other kids will probably assume I'm the same age as them, even though I'll be a man. Legally, anyway.
    "Danny, how are you getting on with your coursework?"
    Miss has realised my thoughts have drifted away from her. It's the downside to all those vibes I've been sending out to her since I started this class.
    "Aye, Miss. It's dead on, like."
    Her little nose crinkles and I know she thinks I'm not taking the work seriously, or else she's objecting to me saying 'like' for no reason. I can't help it. It's one thing to know how you're supposed to talk and to have a bunch of new words to swap for 'like' but I've been talking one way for a long time now. If she keeps trying to test me when I'm off guard, she's going to get disappointed, like.
    I'll try to win her back a wee bit.
    "I mean, I've another few hundred words written that I'm happy with. Found some interesting stuff about that Zacchaeus guy on Wikipedia."
    "It's great that you're researching beyond the textbook, Danny, but you need to be able to provide references for your quotes. I don't think CCEA recognise Wikipedia as a reliable resource."
    My cheeks are probably a little pinker. I try to ignore the heat in my face.
    "Aye, I know. But reading that stuff helped me get my own ideas."
    "Well just make sure you write it in your own language."
    "I only know one, Miss. I failed Spanish last year."
    Miss shakes her head and gives me that wee look of hers. The one that shows her eyes aren't exactly the same size as each other. She's still pretty, though. Those lips of hers would even make up for her having wonky ears. But she doesn't have wonky ears. They're small and pretty and they hold back the strands of blonde hair that slip out of her ponytail.
    Perfect ears and blowjob lips. Oh, God.
    I shift in my seat in advance of the oncoming stiffy. Thank Christ I've jeans on today. My trackies would just tent under this sort of pressure.
    "Miss?"
    It's Adrian's voice from a few desks behind me. I don't turn around. Everything about that prick bothers me, especially the fact that he doesn't let people shorten his name to Ady.
    "Yes, Adrian?"
    " Zacchaeus climbed a tree to see Jesus, didn't he?"
    "