How to Keep an "A" in English

Adriana lay in bed as her alarm went off the next morning. Lying amidst her own white sheets, she hoped, no, prayed that everything she had encountered was just a dream. That she really had not let her English teacher fuck her. Let him screw her over and over in his big round bed, in his big white house. But she knew it was true. He had let her leave the next morning, after sleeping with him in his bed, after making her take a hot shower in the morning, and also eat his homemade western omelet. She was so confused; did she like it? Did she let him do this to her? Did she ask for it? Had she been abused? Did she want the attention? In addition, would they do it again? Moreover, why Her? She did not know any of these answers, but she was not looking forward to class that day.
She went through the day somewhat numb, somewhat nervous, and somewhat anxious. She skipped lunch, and sat outside under a tree instead. Hoping to spend time with herself, and figure out what to do about this incident. History, Chemistry, and French were a blur. She usually did well but she felt her brain give out on her French test on the verbs tenses she was sure she knew last week. Finally, it got to be time for English. Hoping to spend the least amount of time in his class as possible, she got to his class late after walking really slowly from Algebra.
She heard him addressing the class, and was scared. She opened the door a crack and peered in. “Come in PLEASE!” she heard him say. She froze. Was he talking to her? Obviously, but her legs wouldn’t work.

“COME IN PLEASE!” Again she heard it. She opened the door all the way and entered. Her little denim legs shaking. She tried to make her way to her seat when he stopped her.

“Do you have a pass or a good explanation Adriana?” He demanded loudly with a very cynical smile.

“Uh, no, Mr. Andrews”. She pleaded with her eyes.

“Tell us, where you were Adriana. Under the bleachers? In the broom closet? Tell us.”

All she heard was a chorus of laughter from the students. No one tried to stop him. They just fed him the fuel that was to break her down.
“Did you like it? Who was it Adriana? Who made you late to my class? Speak up, will you; I cannot hear your answer. Tell me. I’d like to know.”
Adriana squeaked out a sound that came out like “Nermph”.

“Well then, you can take a seat at my desk. You’re too late to sit in your normal place and we’ve already broken into groups.”
Adriana tried to quietly get to his desk with as little attention on her as possible, but the class was already whispering. She sat down, and crossed her blue-jean-clad legs. It was clear that things weren’t over.

“I’d like you to start your Introduction to Romeo and Juliet Projects now. You have 15 minutes.” Mr. Andrews said to the class. He walked over to where Adriana was sitting.

“You tell anyone?” he muttered. She only shook her head “no”.

“You better not. Will you come over tonight?”

“I think I am busy”.

“I think you’ll make time for me.”

“Uh, why?”

“Because of these” He said as he pulled out a manila folder with her name on it. She thought maybe it was all her work from his class, and she was partially right, but there was more. Adriana audibly drew breath when she saw what was inside. Her naked body, spread out against a black leather bench, with a long blue object within her, was the focus of the first of several pictures.

“How, what, how did you make these? I don’t understand. When did you take them? These aren’t real, they are made up. How did you make them?” She asked, her speech choppy and uneven.

“I bet you would like to know that, and I bet even more that you wouldn’t want your prospective colleges to see them. Eh?”
She gasped. This was unbelievable.

“We need to talk Mitch” she said in a hushed voice.

“That’s funny, you always seem to want to come over my place to do that, huh? Let’s say, about 7?”