The Serpent I Taught

The kid I tutored was a real creep, a total snake in the grass.

He was failing all his classes, so I started giving him free tutoring sessions.

He was physically unfortunate, you know, kinda disfigured, and got bullied relentlessly. I stepped in, chewed out those punks for picking on him.

I even tried to build up his confidence, telling him to stop putting himself down.

Then, one day when I was sick with the flu, he snuck into my apartment and brutally violated me.

The bastard even filmed it.

After that, he took the edited video and plastered it all over the internet.

“So much for the 'hottest teacher',” he said, “She’s just a dirty little slut I totally owned, listen to her moan, haha.”

I went from being the school's golden girl to a total outcast.

Eventually, they fired me.

My dad was livid and went to confront him. The kid ended up stabbing him to death with a kitchen knife.

And he got off, claiming self-defense.

The day they declared him not guilty, he gave me this twisted grin and said, “Hey, Teach, I used to be beneath you, but now you're finally as low as me. Ain’t it great?”

I blinked, and I was back, on the day he transferred to our school.

This time, when they started bullying him, I didn’t step in front of him.

1

I was back in my classroom again.

A stack of ungraded papers sat on my desk.

The ceiling fan was buzzing overhead, making my sundress flutter.

I glanced at the little mirror on my desk. I was 24 again. Shiny hoop earrings swung by my ears, and my face was still glowing, not the washed-out look of a woman who'd lost her dad and her reputation.

“Hey, all you sophomore homeroom teachers, we have a special transfer student. See who wants to take him," the principal said, leading a student into the teacher's lounge.

Everyone’s eyes went to the new kid.

He was hiding behind the principal, but we could still see him. His right leg was visibly atrophied, and his face was a mess of crooked scars, like a bunch of angry centipedes. He had this big, hairy mole right on his nose.

Everyone in the room gasped.

“What the heck is wrong with him? Look at his face.”

“Oh man, that poor kid is disabled, how awful!”

I remembered being just like these teachers.

The first time I saw Lucas, I was shocked at his appearance.

Then, I felt this huge wave of pity.

That teacher instinct kicked in, and I was all righteous and wanted to save him.

I volunteered to take him into my class and did everything for him.

Not this time. Never again.

“Hey, Ms. Davis, how about you take this student in your class?” the principal asked, turning to me.

Lucas’s head snapped up, his eyes full of hope.

I looked away, scoffing.

“Are you serious? He looks like something from a horror movie. If he scares the other kids, what am I supposed to do? My class is all fragile. No way am I taking a freak like that.”

“Sorry, Mr. Johnson, I’m not taking him.”

Lucas winced, hunching over even more.

The principal looked awkwardly at me. “Ms. Davis, you...