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Homework

After a few classes, which all consisted of awkward tension being shared between the professor and his student, the first assignment was given to the class.

"Your assignment will be to write a short story. I want to see your creativity shine through with this activity. That's the point of this class, after all.  Since I want to see your creativity, I am not giving any specific plot or theme that your piece must follow. Again, this means that you're going to need to be creative. You want it to be interesting, exciting. I don't want a boring story with a plot that resembles that of an uninteresting children's book. But be sure to keep the plot understandable. I don't want it to be too difficult to follow. If any of you would like to volunteer to read yours the day it is due, then let me know. Make it interesting."

He sure wanted a lot from his students. Do this, but don't do that, blah blah blah.

With that, the teacher checked his wristwatch and announced, "Class dismissed."

Hayley's mind had been filled with ideas since the second the class had been informed of the assignment. She knew exactly what to focus on.

"Hey, Hayles. Do you want to –" Ashley started, only to be cut off by Hayley. She had things to do.

"No time. Homework," was all Hayley said in order to silence her roommate. Ashley didn't bother asking any questions.

So she went to work on the assignment. She had never enjoyed homework even half as much as she enjoyed preparing the work Mr. York had assigned. Not that she typically enjoyed homework in the first place.

When she completed the assignment and had the physical copy of her final product in hand, she was proud of the work she had done. This would be very fun.

⿲

The paper's due date rolled around. The class was mostly made up of students who were not at all proud of their short stories. Most were nervous about handing in their papers. And what if they were forced to read their stories aloud? Oh god. Hayley's feelings were the opposite of the majority of her peers'. She was excited to not only have Mr. York read her story, but also because she would likely have the opportunity to read it in front of the entire class.

"Would anyone like to read their short story?" Taylor asked the class. He looked around the room, seeing a large group of students with their heads down, their tired eyes focused on their papers. Each and every student was avoiding eye contact with their professor at all costs. Nobody raised their hand.

Except for Hayley, of course. When Taylor had asked the class if anyone was interested in reading their piece aloud, Hayley's hand shot up without a second of hesitation. Not only was her hand raised, but she made sure to make direct eye contact with Taylor in the hopes of receiving his attention.

"Go ahead, Miss," Taylor said with a small sigh.

Hayley hurried to the front of the room with her papers in hand. She cleared her throat before reading.

"Tyler Young was nothing more than a boring teacher to the majority of his students. He was just someone who assigned them work and gave them a hard time. That relationship was present between him and all but one student. That one student was a female student by the name of Hannah Wilson."

Nobody but Taylor was picking up on how peculiar it was for Hayley Williams, Taylor York's student, to be writing a story with the two characters having such similar names to these two very real people. Granted, not many people were even aware of Hayley's name nor Taylor's first name. Nonetheless, nobody but Taylor was picking up on the resemblance.

Hayley continued, "Their relationship was more than just a typical relationship between a teacher and student. Their connection was beyond that. They met each other the summer prior to the first semester of Hannah's senior year. In all fairness to the educator, he was unaware of the fact that he'd soon be teaching her. And the girl had no idea either."

Taylor could not sit there and listen to Hayley telling the story of their first and only date a second longer. He regretted the night enough with Hayley becoming his student. But to be reminded through a detailed recollection of the night was not helping those feelings of remorse. He had to stop her once she said, "The highlight of the entire evening was when Hannah invited her date back to her apartment. She could not wait to —"

It was not the time or place to tell a story about a hookup between a teacher and his future student. Taylor was not so sure that any time was an appropriate time for retelling such a tale. But in his classroom — unacceptable.

"Miss, I'm afraid that that's all the time we have for today," Taylor interrupted. Hayley frowned, checked the clock above the door and looked at Taylor.

"Class isn't over yet," Hayley argued with a frown that was still present upon her lips.

"I'm very sorry, an emergency has come up. Everybody, hand in your short stories. Don't be shy. Thank you for reading, ma'am," he said to Hayley with a phony smile. Anyone with any knowledge of their history would be able to tell that the expression upon his lips was completely fabricated.

Hayley couldn't believe that not too long before, he was fucking her. And now he was calling her "ma'am."

Hayley was the last of the students to hand in her paper, a bitter glare being shared between her and Taylor. Neither of them said a word, just stared at one another as Hayley exited the room.

Hayley was angry that nothing more was happening between them. Taylor was beyond angry that Hayley wrote such a story and then read it in front of the entire class. From what she had read aloud, the story did not sound as though it even had a plot.

Taylor realized that if the rest of the semester were as difficult as the first few classes, he would likely end the year unemployed.