Forbidden Fruit (Bevatoria and Goodatbad)

[Bevatoria]

No matter how many times he had gone through it, he still got nervous on his first day of school. He figured it should have been different now, on this side of the desk, as he strode into the classroom, taking his position behind the desk. As a student, it made sense to be nervous, and even during his first year as a teacher, maybe. But Derek Waiters figured that by now, the butterflies should have been long gone. At 31 years old (though he looked far, far younger), this wasn't his first class he'd ever taught. But it was the first class as this particular school, and Derek wanted to make a good first impression.

8:29 AM, the clock read, with the class set to start at 8:30. He didn't like idling and waiting for things to happen, he always wanted to be on the move. So he got up from his desk, meeting the mostly-bored gazes from the students in his class.

"Good morning. I'm Mister Waiters, and I'm your History teacher for this year." He had made his way near the door, and closed it; while late students were not entirely uncommon even during the final year of high school, he wasn't about to condone students not taking his class seriously. He had on a grey/blue blazer, light blue button up shirt, and pants which matched the color of his blazer, to go with dark oxford shoes.

"We'll go over the syllabus in a moment; for now, I'm going to take attendance." He gave an easy smile, making sure his gaze was moving from student to student. "Just so I can get to know who's who." Truth, and it would make it so that they would pay attention, at least at the start of class, and he opened the folder he'd been holding which had the list of students in his class.

"Andy Barson." He looked around, and heard the male student call back.

"Here." Derek nodded at him.

"Samantha Carter."

"Present." The same; he looked for the source of the voice, and met their gaze.

And on it went, until he got to her. The one who would end up making his year very interesting.

"Mercedes Moreno?"

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes had been seated and ready for class to begin by 8:25 am. She was typically early for class out of habit, in case she had questions, or more likely constructive criticism, for her teachers. Although it was her senior year and most of her peers prematurely had stopped giving a fuck, she actively made it a priority to excel at being studious. She was bright and intrinsically-motivated to do well at anything she attempted, but the raven-haired teen probably took her academics so seriously because she would be the first person in her family to go to college.

When the teacher rose from his desk just before 8:30, Mercedes took notice. She’d seen him when she arrived to class, of course. He was a new guy, and a fairly cute one at that. It was refreshing not to have someone advanced in years teaching history for a change. She had somewhat high hopes before he even opened his mouth. As Mr. Waiters began taking attendance, Mercedes opened to a clean sheet of looseleaf in her social studies binder. She crossed her legs at the ankles, her black high-waisted jeans hugging her slim waist and thick hips as she settled into her seat, a heart-shaped gold pendant accentuating her cleavage through the unbuttoned top of her blush pink blouse.

Mercedes lifted her hand to draw Mr. Waiters’ eyes to her once she heard him announce her name. “It’s actually pronounced Mair-seh-dess. But, you’re not the first to get it wrong... most people can't roll their Rs... so if you can't, I can forgive you.” Fiercely proud was an accurate description for the Latina. She had no qualms about correcting people when she felt it appropriate, which was almost always.

 

[Bevatoria]

Derek was visually nonplussed at Mercedes correcting his pronounciation. Not that it hadn't happened before (he'd had a rather embarassing incident with a student named Skye, who insisted her name sounded like Ski), but something in the way the proud latina had corrected him irked him a little mood wise. Still, he showed no signs of it, as the last thing he wanted to do was to show the students they could get to him like that. "I cannot, but I will attempt to...learn how." He wasn't about to say he meant no offense, either, since that went without saying. This was the first day, and he wasn't about to give his class an 'in' as to how to get under his skin.

He was a kind teacher, but also someone who knew what it meant to project the aura of an authority figure. That wasn't why he worked out - Derek did have a jogger's build, and was a hair over six feet tall. Working out was more for his mental health, as he'd read much about how exercising helped keep his mind sharp, which he needed to teach.

"So. There will be a half dozen pop quizzes during the year. While I won't tell you when these are, there will be a prearranged four week 'period' when the quiz will happen. So while you won't be totally prepared, you also won't be able to say that you were totally unaware, either..."

Derek fell into the routine of explaining the syllabus to the class - pop quizzes, a group project, two papers, a midterm exam, and a final exam. Although his syllabus also mentioned a 5% 'discretionary' grade, which was for attitude and attendance. Which was kind of his way of saying 'show up, don't be a dick, and you're 5% of the way there already'.

As his gaze fell on Mercedes (or Mair-seh-dess), he wondered which of those she'd be...

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes’ correction wasn’t rooted in malice or any sort of effort to haze the new teacher. She respected her superiors quite a lot, but she also wanted it to be known that she wasn’t an airhead or a pushover simply because she was pretty. She was opinionated and happy to show off when she knew something that others did not. Her brazenness didn’t always make her friends, but she wasn’t concerned about trivial relationships as she was certain she wouldn’t see most of her high school peers again upon graduation. Most of them didn’t possess a quarter of the ambition that she did, so the odds of them ending up in the same post-secondary social circles were minuscule.

She nodded in response to Mr. Waiters’ concession, satisfied that she’d made her point and that he would try his best. She wrote the current date in pretty, rounded letters within the top right margin of her loose leaf page as the teacher launched into the course syllabus. That was something the other, more seasoned teachers at the high school often neglected to do. As he discussed grade percentages, she took her time writing Mr. Waiters’ name in her neatest penmanship. She casually wondered what the man’s first name was, and if he would share such a thing with a student or not. He really was cute, she realized, the longer she looked at him.

When the man’s eyes fell upon her, she sat up straighter at her desk and smiled sweetly at him. She raised her hand, the hue of her nail polish matching the dusky pink hue of her shirt which inched up a bit to reveal a sliver of her midriff when she lifted her arm. Her breasts jostled slightly with the swift movement, the nude lace bralette beneath her blouse doing very little to provide restraint of her full Cs.

“Mr. Waiters, some of the teachers here participate in the homework helpline after school hours. Will you be doing that?"

She wouldn't need that support, of course, but she knew that many of her less-capable peers could benefit.

 

[Bevatoria]

He wasn't close enough to see the details of exactly what the subtle shifting of her outfit showed, but even at this distance Derek could tell that her blouse wasn't entirely tucked in to her jeans. And that her youthful breasts were...well, not exactly free, but seemingly moving under her outfit semi-free. Probably something the boys her age would enjoy, even if he could appreciate their beauty.

But he still appreciated her question. "Ah, yes. I will be participating in the help line - Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every second Friday." Subject to the ever erratic whims of the teacher's union. He grumbled inwardly. It wasn't that he minded participating; it was another way to mold and help young people. That, and either volunteer for that, or get roped into certain off other off hour activities which would be more stressful and less engaging for him and the students he oversaw.

"Period 3 is my spare; however, please let me know ahead of time if you wish to pop in to discuss anything. Same thing for after school meetings." He smiled kindly. "I'm happy to help, but scheduling time to talk will help ensure all students get a chance to get the help they may need."

A beat passed. "And, once we get to know each other better, I'm happy to serve as an...informal sounding board. An adult who's not your parents, to talk about the daily pressures of school." He held up his hands. "Of course, the school has a guidance counsellor as well. But enough serious talk."

Derek sat on the side of his desk. "Now...let's talk about why history is important. Who wants to tell me about their favorite historical fact?" He saw a hand raise and pointed at it, leaning in slightly as if he were right next to the student listening.

For the moment, while Mercedes was in his peripheral vision, he did not pay special attention to her. Yet.

 

[GoodatBad]

Although she wouldn’t need the assistance, Mercedes copied down the information Mr. Waiters provided regarding his helpline availability. Someone was bound to ask, so she would be prepared. She had utilized the helpline exactly once in her Freshman year but immediately swore it off after the teacher had waffled on a simple matter of fact vs opinion. Still, someone else less enthusiastic about learning could probably benefit. Tutoring, while she would’ve been good for it based on her stellar grades, wasn’t a service she was interested in offering to her classmates either. Typically guys who asked for such a thing, really just wanted an excuse to get her to their place and grope her tits. Nope. She wasn’t falling for that again. She was so done with oafish high school boys. Older men were much more attractive and deserving of her attention.

The raven-haired Senior tapped the end of her pen against her soft lips as Mr. Waiters offered himself as a mentor of sorts. Well, that was sweet of him and perhaps foolhardy, considering the school’s existing guidance department was a joke.

Mercedes folded her arms and sank back into her seat as Mr. Waiters warmed up the class with an icebreaker. She smirked, imagining the new teacher hunkered down at his kitchen table the previous night, scouring the internet for cool engagement activities for teens. She watched him as he leaned forward to show that he was actually interested in his student’s feedback. Cheesy, but effective.

So far, she liked this guy.

Only 2 students volunteered responses (and they weren't all that original or clever) so when there was a lull, she raised her hand.

"I don't have a favorite historical fact. But if I could go back in time I would tell Pocahontas to leave those White men alone. Disney lies."

 

[Bevatoria]

Derek, of course, hadn't been around long enough to know about the guidance department being less than ideal, shall we say, in terms of how they operated. And even if he wasn't too enamored with the responses so far, the important part was to engage them. It was interesting for him, too, to see how they thought in a more informal environment.

And then his 'special' student volunteered a fact, of sorts. Disney lies. There were a few murmured laughs from the students, not out of wanting to hide their reaction - if nothing else, the last thing Derek wanted to be known as was a tyrant - but mere curiosity. Not wanting to appear to be too enthusiastic at what was a bit of a joke, but neither did they want to be total stiffs and not laugh at all. High school social dynamics at work.

So he tilted his head in thought, giving a chuckle himself before looking at her. "It's certainly true that outside portrayals of historical meetings - be they more, shall we say, loose with certain details like Disney, or even war movies which talk about important battles - do tend to be rather liberal with the facts." He stood up, meeting Mercedes' gaze directly. "It's interesting to think about how changing one event in history - even if it's one somewhat inaccurately portrayed like in Pocahontas - can affect what happens after it."

He looked at his student, deciding to see if she liked to be challenged.

"Do you think inaccurate portrayals of historical events hurt our perception of them? Or do they help because they are making us aware of what has happened in our past?" While the question was for anyone, it was clear he was aiming it at Mercedes.

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes sat upright in her seat once again, taking an interest in her teacher’s deliberate response. She grinned as the man rose to offer an intelligent rebuttal restoring, for the time being, her interest in the class. She returned his eye contact unflinchingly, though the longer it lasted, the warmer her skin grew beneath her clothes. Certainly the culminating question was open to everyone in the room, but she’d be remiss to let someone else chime in on it.

“I think we all know that ignorance is bliss--" Mercedes paused to pass her tongue over her lips, contemplating her ideal choice of words, "--the truth of most recorded human history is grossly disappointing and ugly." She shrugged her shoulders, then propped her elbows on the desk in such a way that squeezed her breasts together as she leaned forward. "Most people prefer the pretty, clean revisionist versions, since they make our existence seem less chaotic and bleak. I don’t know about you, Mr. Waiters, but I like my history authentic. Raw and dirty.”

 

[Bevatoria]

It would be fair to say that Mercedes' teacher was not the male in the room who took the most notice of her alluring gestures. The subtle licking of her lips, and then the way she framed her chest by leaning forward and squeezing her tits together. To guys, they were 'breasts' until they wanted to see them. Then, they were tits.

So while Derek was not the person who noticed her teasing gestures the most, Derek certainly *did* notice it. He hesitated briefly, giving the glass time to chuckle at the innuendo of Mercedes' statement, before he recovered his composure and smiled. "Well. To want something authentic is very genuine." He clapped his hands. "Okay. Let's turn to page 7 in the textbook..."

As much as Derek hated using reading and textbooks - knowing how much students distliked it - at least they could get PDF versions of this one instead of the old paper, hard cover versions.

He was still an old soul at heart, though, and opened his own book. Today would be a long day, with a stint on the help line waiting after school...

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes was keenly aware that the boys in class were gawking at her, straining to see if her cleavage would pop out of her blouse. Their attention wasn’t special to her though, so she didn’t even bother acknowledging it. Mr. Waiters’ attention, however, was something that she was interested in attaining. He was a puzzle of sorts that required some trial and error to figure out, but she was up to the task. And judging by the tiniest hesitation on his part before he mustered a response to her suggestive reply, outright flirtation as a tactic seemed to be a safe bet.

The high-achieving Latina didn’t often flirt with her teachers. She didn’t have to, she’d earned her GPA based on her own merit. But now, perhaps she wanted to flirt a little, to discover what the man’s limits were, to see what could transpire. She could privately consider it her independent study for the semester. Smirking as Mr. Waiters changed the subject and redirected the class to the textbook, Mercedes settled back into her seat and opened her book to the indicated page, planning to behave for the remainder of the lesson.

 

[Bevatoria]

Derek did far more talking than normal, it being his introductory class with these students. While he normally preferred to engage and guide a healthy amount of discussion when possible, there was a benefit in having the students get used to him, too. And while several students were sticking out to him already - Anna, Cole, Jason, Yani - it was Mercedes who lingered in his mind as he dismissed the class. "Start reading chapter 1, and we'll go over some major American historical figures tomorrow." He wasn't the kind of teacher to force his students to read every night; they had enough teachers breathing down their neck for their likely graduation year and the last thing he wanted to do was add stress.

But he would come down hard on them when he had to. And hold them accountable. Even with his relative inexperience in the teaching world, he knew the difference between busywork and productive work. He settled back at his desk, nodding some polite goodbyes to some students, his glance catching Mercedes' on the way out.

"Bye Mercedes." It wasn't a greeting any different from one he'd given a half dozen students already, but his gaze lingered on her a bit longer, and unbidden, a thought came to his mind.

She's going to rock some guy's world.

Then another one came.

Or make it hell.

 

[GoodatBad]

As the class went on, Mercedes stuck to her resolution to let Mr. Waiters teach without further disruption. She watched the man intently as he spoke, appreciating the spirited way in which treated the subject matter even if it wasn’t one favored by most of her peers. Mercedes herself was on the fence about history being an ‘interesting’ class, but she was certainly open to persuasion.

The bell rang, signaling that everyone was to collect their stuff and spill out into the halls. Mercedes didn’t move however even after Mr. Waiters finished giving out the homework assignment. She took her time with neatly writing ‘read/outline chapter 1’ in her planner under the heading ‘social studies’. It rounded out the short list of other assignments copied down from English and Calculus earlier in the day.

Once the room had emptied out quite a bit, she tucked her books into the crook of her arm, then got up from her seat. Sliding her backpack onto one shoulder, she paused by her desk and offered a smile to her new teacher.

"Later, Mr. Waiters."

Flipping her silky mane behind her, Mercedes turned on her heel and sauntered out of the classroom. She brushed past the two boys who’d made a sad habit of trying to talk to her between classes, both of them jockeying for just a second more of interaction over which to gloat. She didn’t pay either of them any attention; someone else was on her mind and would occupy her idle thoughts for the rest of the afternoon.

When the final bell rang, Mercedes made a final trip to her locker, switching out any materials she didn’t need for homework that night. Then she returned to the social studies classroom, confident that she’d catch Mr. Waiters there. As usual, she was right.

“Hey--" she called to him when she stepped into the room, a sweet, little smile on her lips, "--looks you survived your first day.”

 

[Bevatoria]

All in all, it had been a pretty good first day, although it wasn't as if his mind was replaying every event of notice as Mercedes sauntered into the room. There had been a couple of students who'd tried to make jokes; and he felt like he'd handled it pretty well - flipping it back on them without taking the same juvenile tone they had. There was an important difference between engaging students on their level and engaging them healthily, and he'd seen other new teachers make the mistake of trying to be 'cool'. You couldn't be their friend first; no matter what happened during the year, a teacher was an authority figure. Being supportive did not mean forgetting who you were to them.

But as the young woman walked into the room, Derek would admit that she had probably been the student he'd thought most about. Not just because she seemed smart, and had stood up for herself (a lot of students wouldn't correct his pronunciation of their name, at least not in front of the class). His mind had wandered to how attractive she was, too, and he knew better than to suppress that fully as well. High school girls were pretty, and to him there was no problem with acknowledging that.

Just as long as he didn't do so verbally.

“Hey, looks you survived your first day.”

He turned to her, as he was sitting at his desk. Derek smiled. "Yep." Truth be told, surviving was the baseline for a day, but the day had gone decent enough. "And you yours, in a manner of speaking." Though he knew Mercedes was not new to the school, it was still the first day of a new year for the young student.

"So what brings you here, Mercedes?" He tried to correct his pronunciation as she'd told him, but didn't quite push out the dess in the third part of her name, and he looked at her with a smile that resembled apology. "I'll get better at that."

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes adjusted the strap of her book bag on her shoulder and stepped forward when her teacher looked up from his desk. Her smile brightened when the Mr. Waiters returned the friendly gesture. “My expectations were low,” she laughed softly, shrugging her free shoulder, “and I’m not the one who’s fresh meat here.” She felt the need to remind him, however gently. Well, gently for her.

How could she accurately sum up the intention behind her drop in? She pressed her plush lips together for a moment and hummed softly in thought. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that I like the way you handled my class today. There aren’t many teachers here who actually challenge their students in a professional way. Personally, I like being challenged by an authority figure.”

She set her bag down on one of the student's desks in the front row when she was close enough to do so. Homework would be a breeze, so she was in no rush to get home right away. Moving closer to her teacher's desk, Mercedes placed her fingertips on the edge as she leaned toward the man. “I bet you’ll be saying my name a lot... so I’m confident you will get better.”

 

[Bevatoria]

The reminder about being 'fresh meant' made him laugh a bit. It was a bit of a tease, but Derek couldn't help but wonder if there was some seriousness behind it. The students today hadn't been super hard, but it was the first day and there were some troublemakers. And in the back of his mind, he wondered of Mercedes would be one of them. She had just referred to it as 'my class', although she did say she enjoyed being challenged.

"Well, I look forward to seeing how I can challenge you." He smiled, letting the young woman continue. She moved in closer to him, and it didn't take a psychic to tell that it was her challenging him, although how was still to be determined. Derek didn't tilt his head in confusion but it was clear that he was thinking through how exactly to respond to her statement.

"Well. Let's hope so." He could tell Mercedes was trying to get a reaction from him, but Derek couldn't tell how exactly. Or what kind of reaction she was looking for. So while he didn't engage her directly, neither would he back down.

"I'm always glad when I can help my students, Mercedes. I hope you know that you can ask me about anything."

Oh, if he only knew what she had in mind...

 

[GoodatBad]

“So do I.” Mercedes grinned at her teacher, her shoulders shrugging up to her ears in a demure gesture of sweetness. She was pleased with the way he contemplated his words before speaking. He was intelligent in a way that she deemed attractive, not just book-smart but people-smart too. She lifted her right hand from the desk only to chase a flyaway strand of hair from her face, tucking it back behind her multi-studded ear. She was curious to see how he would challenge her too; few who attempted the feat had prevailed with their dignity in tact.

“You can go hard on me, Mr. Waiters. I promise I’m up for it.” She insisted, straightening her back then and pushing her chest forward in a brief stretch for good measure. “You’ll just have to be creative ‘cause I’m not easy.”

When the new teacher offered her carte blanche on inquiries, Mercedes’ eyes lit up. Mr. Waiters had just, perhaps unwittingly, said the magic words.

“Can I really ask you anything?” she asked softly, canting her head to the side slightly. “There are so few teachers who I can relate to here... I know it’s only your first day, but I get a really good feeling about you.”

 

[Bevatoria]

It wasn't as if Derek missed the innuendo that seemed to be implied when Mercedes mentioned being okay with him going hard on her. But even at his (relatively) young age for being a teacher, he had enough presence of mind to know that said innuendo was often imagined by lonely teachers who were fighting their own desperation for human affection. Still, he wasn't naive to ignore the physical signs that accompanied it as the young woman pushed her chest forward with a stretch. Again, not conclusive, as human beings had to stretch lest they get stiff or pull a muscle or two.

And boy do her muscles look lean and taut. Feminine.

He bit back that line of thinking as Mercedes questioned him about being able to ask him anything. And certainly he was not stupid enough to ignore the can of worms he'd potentially opened. But Derek also knew that certain students (and he could not be entirely certain that Mercedes was not one of those yet) would find the limits and then intentionally push past them. So he'd had a tried and true method which had not failed him yet, and one that he imagined he would be refining as he went through more and more students. Experience was the best teacher.

So he smirked, and took a moment. Mercedes was trying to flatter him, which would usually would lead to him raising his guard. However, Derek decided in that moment to gamble a bit, since there was only one time to make a first impression. "Absolutely." He said, knowing that letting her respond immediately would only lead to trouble. "Although I cannot guarantee you will get the answer you want."

Which was a healthier way of saying that she might not like it.

 

[GoodatBad]

Mercedes already had a question bubbling on the tip of her tongue when her teacher placed a condition on it. She giggled sweetly, appreciating his effort at taking precaution against whatever she could’ve tossed at him. He really was an intelligent man, someone worthy of holding her attention. “Okay.. but you don’t know what I want yet.” She countered, lightly chewing on her bottom lip and pausing for dramatic effort.

She pressed her hips against the front of the teacher’s desk, bending over slightly with her hands down on the ledge again. “Would you tell me your first name?” she asked, batting her long dark lashes at Mr. Waiters. “I was trying to guess what it might be during class, ‘cause sometimes you can just tell by looking at someone. But I can’t figure it out with you.” She shrugged her shoulders, grinning at the man.

“I know you probably shouldn’t, but if I promise not to use it in class, would you give it to me anyway?”