308Summary: She's starting her new job as an Advanced Placement, College Preparation English professor at a small town high school in the hottest place in the country: good, old California. She's also only twenty-two years old. He's starting his senior year as the school's biggest, most popular jock slash manwhore. He also has his hazel eyes on the school's new, hot English teacher. Is she going to be his first challenge, or will she fall head over heels just like all the other girls?
Rating: M for Mature Audiences
Contains adult situations, language, and sexual scenes
By: Chelsea Elizabeth
Chapter One – First Day of School
XOXOXOXOXO ARIEL BROOKS XOXOXOXOXO
Today was the first day of school for Ariel Brooks. And she was ready for it. No, she wasn't worried about boys or her social life mainly because she wasn't exactly a student. Ariel was starting her first day of high school at The Bay School of San Francisco as a new teacher. She had just received her PhD in education, and she had even taken an extra summer semester at Harvard University. Miraculously, she had found a school to work at right off the bat. As soon as she had gotten out of college, she began searching online and looking in newspaper ads trying to find a promising school, and then one day: Bam. There it was. Right in California. She had never been to the west coast of the country, but she liked the change of scenery. Ariel had previously lived in the south east, in South Carolina, and rarely had time to travel in her busy and hectic life.
Ariel was smart, not just average smart, but exceptionally intelligent. She had attended St. Maria Goretti's Catholic Elementary School, which was an advanced placement school, as a child and still she skipped two grades—second and fourth. She graduated high school at age fifteen. Her professors had never seen anyone with such amazing intellect; she was her graduating class's valedictorian in both high school and college. As soon as Ariel graduated from high school, she knew what she wanted to do with her life: she wanted to be a teacher. When she matriculated into college and majored in education, she received her Bachelor's in just two years—which was two years earlier than the class she started with—and earned her Master's in under three years—half the time a typical student takes to earn such a degree—and finally she obtained her PhD two years after she had attained her Master's. Her entire schooling in education took about seven years.
In addition to being intelligent, Ariel was gorgeous. When she was in high school—though she was two years younger than everybody else—she was immediately popular. She had the prettiest chocolate brown eyes and brunette hair that never seemed to make up its mind. One day it was as straight as an ironing board, and the next it was as wavy as ever, looking like a beautiful waterfall. She had a small, yet distinct, beauty mark on her upper right cheek and the most luscious lips one ever did see. She could smile just a small smile and succeed in sending countless males into Lala Land. A helpful factor to her popularity in high school was that she was a complete and total social butterfly. But nobody wanted to piss her off. Being on the receiving end of her wrath was the last place someone wanted to be. She was witty with a sharp tongue, and nobody wanted to mess with her.
But today—seven years after her fun high school experience—she stepped foot into the hallways of The Bay School of San Francisco dressed in a dark green V-cut sundress with a thick brown belt wrapped around her tiny waist. Her brown boots matched the belt and they clacked against the tiled flooring of the hallway as she made her way to her new classroom.
"Hey, you know that we have a uniform," someone called to her. Ariel turned around and faced a brunette student. "We aren't allowed to wear normal clothing. Though your dress is super cute, you're gonna get written up for it."
"I don't think I will," Ariel answered and flashed a smile at the girl and the boy she was standing next to.
"Why do you think that?" the boy asked.
"You think you're more special than everybody else?" the dark haired girl asked, narrowing her green eyes.
"Well, I'm pretty sure that teachers are allowed to wear anything they like," Ariel answered.
"You're a teacher?" The girl's eyes widened.
"Yes, ma'am," Ariel answered.
The male let out a low whistle. "You sure are young," he commented. The brown haired girl slapped him on the bicep and glared at him. "What? She is," he said defensively.
"Thank you, now if you don't mind..." Ariel continued walking to her classroom.
Ariel's heart fluttered when she turned the light on and took in the large interior of her new classroom. It had maps, including one of Normandy where the Battle of Hastings took place—she couldn't wait to cover that bit of information with her AP English class this year when they read about Scots and Bards. The classroom consisted of thirty-something desks and a grand desk in the front which held papers, pens, notebooks, textbooks, and a new Mac laptop that connected to the new projector which faced the wall where the SmartBoard was mounted.
Though Ariel was only twenty-two, she still appreciated Emily Dickinson, William Shakespeare, Homer, John Milton, and all of the other great authors and playwrights. Ariel loved to read; it happened to be one of her favorite hobbies. When she was eight years old—and in the fifth grade—she had successfully completed all of the books in her home and begged her mother to go out and buy her new ones.
Ariel noticed a large, glass window on the far side of the room and made her way to it, her heels clacking against the clean floor of the bare room and echoing off the walls. She peered down from the second story and to the ground floor of the building. Her heart nearly stopped, and her breath hitched as she saw what was right outside of her perfect room: the water of the bay. It was a dark color, appearing almost black; you could not see what was directly beneath the surface like you could with the waters of the Bahamas, where she and her family vacationed every summer. Ariel stared, dumbfounded at the water below her. She hated water. She couldn't stand it. She could barely tolerate the water she used to take a shower every morning; it reminded her of the…incident. She knew that the fresh, filtered water that came from her shower head wasn't in any way, shape, or form similar to the water of…that night, but this water, the water that stared maliciously back up at her, was exactly the same kind of water that had threatened her years ago.
Ariel took a deep breath, shoving the thoughts of what had happened to her so many years ago out of her head, and began getting ready for her first class.
XOXOXOXOXO LAYTON JONES XOXOXOXOXO
Today was the first day back to school. But the important fact about today was that it was the first day back to school as a senior. Junior year rocked for Layton Jones, captain of the football and basketball teams, and he wasn't expecting anything less for his senior year. He had been waiting for this year since he was in seventh grade. He had been The Bay School of San Francisco's star athlete since his first day as a freshman. And he had become instantly popular.
Not only was he a popular jock, he was also a popular player. The entire female population loved him and was ready to spread their legs for him at his beck and call. And the entire male population just wanted to be his friend so that they could also get the girls to open readily for them. Though The Bay School of San Francisco was a private Catholic school, the students weren't as Christian as everybody wanted to believe they were. And since the high school was such a small school—only two hundred and eighty-one students attended the high school—everybody knew each other and they were very comfortable getting into bed with one another.
As Layton got out of his car and reached the front entrance of the school, he was greeted with many play punches to the shoulder and handshakes from his team buddies and plenty of 'hi's from the female inhabitants.
"Hey, bro." Layton's co-captain of the football team, Frederick Mills, high-fived him as they reached their homeroom.
"What's up?" Layton asked as he turned the desk's chair around and situated himself in it, extending both of his legs out to the sides of the chair, as he faced Freddy.
"Nothing interesting. Hey, have you ever screwed around with Chenille Waters?" Freddy asked.
"Who haven't I ever screwed around with?" Layton replied.
"True. Anyways, she's a nice go. I could consider doing her more than once. Maybe even establish a 'friends with benefits' deal with her. No strings attached."
"I guess; if you're into the whole 'friends with benefits' hubba-bubba."
"I dig it."
"Whoa, going sixties on me?"
The two football players talked until the final bell rang. School was about to officially start. As Layton went to his locker to retrieve his books needed for his first period AP English class, his friend and basketball teammate, Allan Lewis, who had a brunette attached to his arm, approached him. The brunette, whose name seemed to slip Layton's mind, was scowling at something.
"Hey, bro," Allan greeted as they got closer. "You got AP English with the new teacher?" he asked.
"Yeah, why. Is she ugly, fat, or old?"
"None of the above. She's hot. And I don't mean just usual hot; I mean, like, I have never seen someone as sexy as she is."
"Crushin' on the new teach? Can you say 'revolting'?" Layton mocked.
"Tell me what you think after you've seen her," Allan rejoined and then made his way to his first class with the brunette girl still clinging to his arm.
Layton didn't believe Allan. How could a teacher be hot? Didn't teachers have to go through, like, ten years of schooling to be qualified to educate students? So, wouldn't that make the new AP English teacher around thirty? It disgusted Layton that Allan had the hots for the new teacher. Layton just shook Allan's words off and tried not to think of them as he made his way to room 201A, the senior AP English classroom.
The former AP English teacher was Mr. Lessaine—or called by the students: Mr. Insane—and he was said to be the worst English teacher known to mankind. Layton had never had the man as a teacher, but some said that he would take points off a term paper merely for incorrect font size, or if the indents were too large. When Layton had discovered that he wouldn't have Mr. Lessaine this year, he almost leapt for joy. Layton, unlike most jocks, was actually smart and didn't get his good grades from cheating off other people. Layton received his high marks for studying day by day right before his daily fuck with a random girl.
Layton entered the designated classroom and chose his usual seat—the middle desk in the back of the classroom. He hated sitting in the front of the class because he didn't like the fact that anyone could be looking at him, and he couldn't tell the difference. And he didn't like sitting off to the side because he hated being out of the group. He had to be in the middle and in the back. And if this new teacher decided to try and make him move, well, fuck her. Soon enough some of his more intelligent teammates from the basketball team walked in and situated themselves next to him and few of the cheerleaders who held themselves higher than everyone else because of their intellect also came and surrounded Layton.
"So, did you hear about this teacher?" J.E.T. (Jason Ethan Thomas) asked.
"Well, Allan Lewis told me that she's supposedly really hot, but I don't believe him. I mean, how can a teacher be hot?" Layton replied.
"I heard the same thing," Julie, the head cheerleader, piped in. "Brenda told me that she saw her this morning, and she was wearing this really cute dress."
Brenda! That was the brunette that Allan had had draped over his arm; Layton knew he would remember it soon enough. But he still didn't believe that this new teacher was going to be hot. He was too used to old women who were either fat or way too skinny, so he couldn't picture anyone who taught a high school class to be anything more than nice-looking.
Just then the final bell rang, signaling the official start of senior year. The new teacher was still nowhere in sight, and Layton was beginning to wonder what exactly she looked like. That was when Layton heard the click-clack of heels echoing off the walls in the hallway. Along with the rest of the class, he turned his attention to the door where he watched as a fine brunette entered wearing a green dress.
But he wasn't looking at the dress. He was mainly staring wide-eyed at the figure that the green dress covered. The brunette's body was sensational. Layton had never seen any teacher who rocked a body like that. She had nicely shaped breasts that curved into a petite waist and then back out into nice hips—and probably a nice ass, but Layton wasn't too sure because he couldn't see her backside…yet.
Layton's eyes finally traveled back up to her face where he was stunned. She looked young, too young to be a teacher. She had a kind smile and shimmering, brown eyes that were framed with thick, black eyelashes. Her brown curls cascaded down her back and curved to a stop near her hips. And her legs. Oh, God, Layton wanted to have a work out with them. She must be some sort of fitness guru because her tanned and toned legs were very inviting. It took all the willpower Layton possessed to remain in his seat without squirming. This new teacher had yet to even open her mouth—which Layton wanted somewhere else—and Layton was already going crazy.
So, maybe he had misjudged Allan's and Julie's forewarnings. Now that he had seen this new teacher for himself, he was going to have to apologize one hundred times for not believing them right away.
Layton took a quick look around and realized that he wasn't the only male staring wide-eyed at their teacher. They were all looking at her disbelievingly. Even some of the females were amazed at how young this new professor looked. She had to be twenty-three, at the very most. Layton just didn't know how that was possible. Teachers had to go through years of schooling before they could get a job like this, didn't they?
XOXOXOXOXO ARIEL BROOKS XOXOXOXOXO
"Good morning, class," Ariel greeted her first period seniors.
"Good morning," half of the class replied. The other half was still gawking at her. Ariel didn't understand why they kept giving her that look. She quickly chanced a glance down at her outfit. Yep, everything was okay there. She was looking pretty cute in her new sundress. Ariel tucked a ringlet of hair behind her ear and continued with the morning necessities.
First, she went to the white board, picked up a purple dry erase marker, and in her flowery lettering wrote Ms. Ariel Brooks.
"My name is Ms. Ariel Brooks. You may all call me Ms. Brooks. This is my first day on teaching seniors in high school, but let me inform you that I absolutely will not take any crap from a single one of you. Now, I know that you are all AP students, so that's a plus because I hear that AP students here take pride in their work and are very efficient in getting projects done. I expect each and every one of you to maintain a low B at the least this entire year, and if you seem to be falling behind, please feel free to stay after school on Thursdays for extra help. Also, today, I am going to have everyone stand up and tell me something about himself or herself. By the end of this week, I am determined to have all of my students' names memorized and hopefully a bit of their personality to go with it. So, I'll start. You already know my name, and the bit of information about me that I am going to share to ya'll is: I'm only twenty-two, so I was a teenager only three years ago and I still remember what and how a teenager thinks. So, if you ever have the inclination to try and cheat in my class, I'll be sure to have you suspended for academic integrity," Ariel spoke with a sweet smile on her flawless lips. "Now, let's start over here. What's your name, sir?"
The first twenty minutes of class went like that. Each student stood up before saying his or her name and then a little bit of information they wanted to share with the class. The first half of the class said what they needed to say and then sat down; the process went smoothly. But then a boy with black hair and green eyes stood up with all the confidence in the world and said, "My name is Layton Jones, and I wouldn't mind having you squirming underneath me." Layton finished, looking straight at Ariel.
Ariel had been looking down momentarily, writing down Layton's name in the spot where he sat on a piece of paper, so she would have an official seating chart. But when she heard him say this, her head snapped up. She looked Layton straight in his hazel eyes and quirked a smile. Layton had perfectly messed up black hair, almost shaggy, that was flawlessly styled, and yet looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, giving him that carefree look. His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked into Ariel's brown ones. The right corner of his perfect heart-shaped lips was quirked up into the ideal smirk, just waiting for Ariel's response.
Only, Ariel didn't respond the way Layton had been anticipating, maybe even hoping for. Ariel was used to boys coming on to her ever since eighth grade. Even though she had been two years younger than the rest of her classmates, she had physically matured early. So, in response to Layton's crude comment, Ariel smiled and said, "Layton, I'm flattered that I look good enough to screw with you, but trust me; you wouldn't be able to handle me anywhere besides the classroom."
The class gasped. The guys smirked and coughed, trying to cover their laughter. The girls giggled and raised their eyebrows. Nobody had ever had the guts to stand up to Layton before; even some of his teachers were too scared to really give him a detention when he deserved one. Layton allowed a moment of shock cross his face before he covered it up with another smirk. Ariel just smiled sweetly at him. "Are you done with your introduction?" she asked.
"Not quite."
"Continue." Ariel wasn't going to allow Layton to get too far with his comments, but she was still young and naïve; she was almost curious to know what Layton would say next.
Again, Layton had been stunned that Ariel allowed him to continue, so it took him a second to figure out what he wanted to say. "If you don't think I can handle you, then we should give it a go. See if you're right," Layton finished with a wink.
The class looked from Layton to Ariel as if they were witnessing a tennis match.
"You think so?" Ariel asked, egging him on. Ariel had never thought that her first day of teaching would consist of a verbal argument with one of her students.
"Sure." Layton smiled.
"Aren't you afraid that you won't even compare to the men that I have had in my bed, boy?"
"Trust me, I'd compare, and I'd, without a doubt, be better than all of them," Layton retorted.
"Don't be so sure, Layton. You have no idea how many notches I have on my bedpost. We're done with this conversation. Take your seat. Now," Ariel finished with a tone of authority.
XOXOXOXOXO LAYTON JONES XOXOXOXOXO
Layton stood up for a few moments before he finally decided that he would probably benefit from obeying her. But he was now determined to have his way with Ariel. She was a teacher he wouldn't mind having tutor him, and he was absolutely settled on finding some way to get into her pants. For some reason, when he finally did take his seat, he liked the fact that he had to obey her, that she was dominant over him. Most girls he got into bed were always submissive—which he loved—but he never thought that he would ever like being told what to do and obeying.
And Ariel's responses had been so cunning. Layton could hardly believe they were coming from the mouth of an English teacher. What she said, how she said it, the way her lips moved, everything kind of turned him on—okay, maybe, everything seriously turned him on. At first, Layton thought he was crazy for getting hot for his English teacher, but, after he thought about it, he was okay with it. Ariel was hot; she was probably hotter than any girl he had ever gotten into his bed. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized something: Ariel wasn't just another high school girl that he wanted to screw; she was a woman. A very sexy woman that Layton would most definitely find a way to get into his bed. Naked.
The rest of the class went by smoothly, but all Layton could really concentrate on was the idea of getting his new teacher into bed. And the sooner the better. Senior year was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than Layton could have ever thought it would be. He now had a new goal. And though his new objective was a bit crude, it was going to be a bunch of fun. And Layton couldn't be more excited about it. Last year Layton's ultimate intention had been to get the more girls in his bed than anyone ever thought to seduce, but this year his aim was totally different. Instead of getting as many girls as possible to sleep with him, he only wanted one woman. And that one woman was standing right in front of him.
And she would be standing in front of him everyday for the rest of the year.
So, Layton thought, this is going to be easy.
~Chelsea Elizabeth