Page 10 of Romance Languages

Greg could be so convincing. Look no further than the shit he’d had me do in college. But I couldn’t ride with him on this one.

I’d hurt someone I cared about. I wasn’t going to risk that again.

4

JULIAN

On top of having to teach a subject I had no business teaching, I was late on my first day as substitute health teacher. The power imbalance swung hard to the students.

I entered the classroom to find all of my students seated, chatting amongst themselves and checking their phones. All heads looked up at me, twenty-four sets of judging eyes.

“It’s a good thing they don’t give detention to teachers for being tardy,” I said and flopped my bag on the desk.

Mrs. Stockman hadn’t updated her lesson plans in Cyllabus. Was I the only teacher in this school who had? I’d tried texting her to get a sense of where she was in the curriculum, but she’d never responded. She was taking her sick leaveveryseriously.

I recognized a few students from my French classes, but it didn’t hold back the wave of embarrassment cresting in my gut.

“Welcome to health!” I said, which only made things more awkward. “Or should I say, thank you for welcoming me. Because Mrs. Stockman is recuperating, I’m pitching in for the next few weeks. I’m Mr. Bradford. I usually teach French, so should I say bonjour?”

I didn’t know why I turned to making jokes when I was nervous. Funny wasn’t my forte. My poor comedic timing had the effect of tossing buckets of blood into shark-infested waters.

“Does anyone know where she left off? Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get ahold of her lesson plans yet.”

Avery, one of my top French students, raised her hand, an ally in the mist. “We were about to start our lesson on contraceptives.”

She blushed a little, and I thought of one of Seamus’s videos where he described how students raise their hands. Avery was doing the nervous, I-hate-that-everyone-is-looking-at-me raise.

“Thank you.” I flipped open the textbook to the contraceptives lesson. Diagrams of condoms and birth control filled the page.

“She was supposed to show us how to put a condom on,” said a kid in the front row who had the swagger of someone meant for the back row. My suspicion was that Stockman made the kids sit alphabetically. His dark, judgmental eyes narrowed at me with that menacing grin that was eerily common with teenage boys.

“Okay,” I said. “Condoms. Condoms are good.”

Woof. I was off to a fantastic start.

“Does anyone know where she kept her condoms?”

“The nightstand, probably,” said the Front Row Menace to murmured laughs. He held a hand behind him for the guy in back to high-five.

“Well, since there is no nightstand here, my guess is she kept them in her desk.” I searched the drawers, trying not to be frantic. I pulled open the bottom drawer and my heart officially stopped.

I found a box of condoms. An extra-large, overflowing box of condoms. And what could only be described as a school-approved sex toy. A dildo attached to a stand.

I’d never owned a box of condoms or a sex toy. I was in deeply uncharted waters.

The dildo felt weird in my hand. Did other dicks feel this thick? It was real enough to make my virginness seep through my pores.

I plunked it on the desk, which elicited unavoidable gasps and murmurs from the students. But I was in control here. I was the teacher. I knew more. I was certified in health. Were they?

Perhaps those health certification courses were further in the past than I thought, or maybe I had missed the lesson on prophylactics, because I suddenly drew a big blank.

“Today, we’re going to learn about proper forms of contraceptives, which can protect against unwanted pregnancy and STIs. The easiest form of contraceptive is the condom. Whereas female contraceptives can be complicated with medication and intrusive devices that have to be implanted, the condom is simple to put on and is incredibly effective against unwanted pregnancy and disease transmission. It stops the sperm from entering your partner.”

A flash of embarrassment hit me as I said sperm, even though it was the technical term. We were all little kids at heart when it came to sex. I blamed our Puritan ancestors.

“Guys, this is a no-brainer. Wear a condom.” I held the packet up for all to see.

Then I looked down at the demonstration dick staring up at me, waiting to be sheathed.

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