Chapter 1

MASON

1

The sounds of dry-erase markers squeak across the whiteboard in my brand-new classroom. Well, the room isn't new, but I am. A bell rings and a parade of students file through the door. They're mostly laughing and talking amongst themselves, never bothering to acknowledge my presence as they take their seats.

"Hey, Mister. Where's Miss Adelaide?" one student asks as they plop down at a desk close to the window.

Twenty students sit in their assigned seats, shuffling books and pages around their desks, waiting for me to answer the question.

I give them a warm greeting and explanation. "Good morning, everyone. My name is Mr. Montoya. Miss Adelaide needed some time off. What began as time off turned into her resignation. So I'm here for the rest of the semester."

The class of high school seniors erupts into cheers as if this is their lucky break. There's an air of happiness that I don't want to tamp down, but I need order.

"Before you all get your hopes up," I announce and see their faces drop. The acknowledgment that this isn't going to be a free ride settles over the class. "I have Miss Adelaide's lesson plans, all of your grades, her notes on your progress, and the curriculum for the rest of the semester. We're going to pick up right where she left off. Let's begin with taking attendance."

There's a collective moan of disappointment around the room, but it doesn't stop me from going down the list of names. Everyone responds with either a 'here' or 'present', with a few groans or grunts thrown in for teenage annoyance.

"Madison Nichols," I say the name and look up. No one's raising their hand, but a split second later, a vision of beauty sashays through the classroom door.

She has everyone's attention, including mine. Platinum blonde hair flops behind her in a high ponytail, chewing pink bubblegum, wearing ear pods, and a pair of cut-off denim shorts that make my cock twitch. For fuck's sake, what am I getting into?

The frilly threads from the bottom of her shorts sway with every step as she strolls to the back of the classroom without a care in the world.

"Miss Nichols?" I ask.

She says nothing. Blowing a bubble that pops loudly, drawing laughter from some and several eye rolls from others in the class. None of the girls have anything on her. She pulls out a small notepad. It's the kind of notepad that looks like something a waitress takes orders with, but this one is pink with unicorn stickers.

After setting it down on the desk, she glances at me with a smirk before dipping a finger between her tits to pull out a pen. I'm lucky that I'm sitting behind the desk or else the entire class would see the tightness around my crotch. She's doing this on purpose.

I won't be toyed with as the tension grows around the room. The echo of my hand slamming against the top of the desk gets everyone's attention, including hers.

"Miss Nichols." My voice bellows, keeping everyone's attention on me. "Are you present?"

"Yes, sir." Her lips are a shade darker than the bubblegum. I can hardly keep my eyes off her, but the last thing I need is students thinking anything of this blossoming infatuation.

It takes me a few more minutes to get through the names. Once I'm done, my erection dies down. Thankfully so because being able to stand makes me effective at my job.

"Good morning everyone. Once again, my name is Mr. Montoya. Feel free to call me Mr. Montoya. I am taking over for Miss Adelaide. You all had homework assignments due?—"

A student's hand shoots up. She volunteers her name first. "Casey, Mr. Montoya. If Miss Adelaide was only supposed to take the week off and then decided to quit, how did you get her notes and stuff about us? It's unfair if you ask me. Also, it's biased of you to make judgments off another teacher's observations. Therefore, you should give every single one of us a passing grade for the midterm. There's no way you can grade us fairly."

I nod and flip through the thick binder given to me by Miss Adelaide herself. "Casey Dupree. Constant questions and an enthusiastic debater. Don't give in to test dismissal and easy grades."

The class snickers, and the student blushes.

I offer a smile to call a truce so she won't challenge me much. "To answer your question, Miss Dupree, Miss Adelaide's been preparing to leave for some time now. I was brought in a few weeks ago to get up to speed. Now, I understand we were in the middle of presentations for plans after graduation. Who was next?"

My eyes scan the room. I don't know why I expect anyone to volunteer, so I give them fair warning. "If no one wants to go, you'll force me to pick someone."

Not a single hand.

"Fine, Madison Nichols," I call out to the young woman who has me ready to lose my job by ogling her. My heart slams against my ribcage as she pushes away from her desk, squeezing her tits to give me a peek at the hot pink bra under her v-neck shirt. Her white v-neck shirt that's a rainy day or fire sprinkler mishap away from showing me the sculpted tender young body underneath it.

The shirt stops right above the waistband of her shorts, teasing me with glimpses of her belly button. I wonder if she's as blonde down there as she is up top.

Madison knows exactly how to tease the guys in the room and make the girls envious. She's older than most of the students. 19 according to the school's records, but there's still something innocent she's hiding under her alluring gestures.

"Name's Madison Nichols and my plans after graduation include absolutely nothing. In conclusion, I'd like to say that taking time off from school is not for the faint of heart. Most of you need structure in your lives so you follow all the rules that society tells us to secure a future. For a lot of you, the future includes a nice cozy desk job, and a decent career, but is that all you want out of life?"

A few students mumble their aversion to the boring nine-to-five life she's describing. Madison's stature at 5'9 makes her worthy of a modeling contract, but her ability to speak shows so much potential. I wish she would have taken the assignment more seriously.

She continues to hold her classmates' attention. "You're going to reach a point where you have to decide if you're going to stick to societal norms or break the mold to go after what you want. You only reach a million dollars after you break the mold. The choice is yours. Follow the rules or follow the rules to life."

"Do you have plans to reach a million dollars?" Casey, the inquisitive one, interjects with half a smile.

Madison shrugs. "I can reach a million by following the rules of life."

Now she has my attention by the balls. I'm not ready for her to go back to her seat. I prod her to continue. "Explain to your classmates the difference between following the rules and following the rules of life."

Madison's blue eyes sparkle with delight at my attention before she hops her perky ass on top of my desk. I take a few steps back to lean against the wall in the corner, to give her as much space as possible. I don't want to be too close or else I may lose my job. I want to bend her over that desk and smack that perfectly palmable ass of hers.

I have to stop thinking about her like this. She's a fucking student.

"So, for those of you who are blissfully unaware, there are three types of people in the world. The best, those trying to be the best, and those who don't care to compete. Follow the rules. You graduate, you go to college, or you get a job. You do what you're told and eventually, you get enough courage to ask for a raise."

She takes a pause and has the entire class waiting with bated breaths. Madison is swimming in the attention, but I toss my gaze out of the window.

"Continue, Miss Nichols," I instruct lazily.

I can hear the frustration in her sigh as she shifts her weight on the desk. My peripheral catches another glimpse. This time the back of her shorts rides up just enough for me to see her skin, bronze from tanning. My tongue moves across my top lip, but I keep my face toward the window.

"In case you missed it, that last description is most of you and most of you don't dare to compete." Madison shrugs at the reaction around the classroom. Some boo, others are indifferent, and the rest are waiting for her to finish.

She continues, "Those of you who didn't like what I said are trying to be the best, and those of you who didn't react at all are probably among the best. For right now, that's how it is. It can always change, but the rules for the rest don't apply to the best."

A few of the athletes in the back high-five, and Madison smirks as she finishes up her presentation. "So, the best bend and break the rules in ways that help them. If they're a decent person, it's nothing catastrophic, but it doesn't negate the fact that they'll do whatever they can to be successful. The ones trying to be the best keep the best on their toes or they surpass and take the mantle."

"And where do you fall in that categorization?" I ask. My eyes scan the school grounds from the second-floor window.

"I'm one of the best," she says.

I chuckle and return to my desk as she slides off it to return to her seat. "Unfortunately, Miss Nichols, while you may be the best in life, in this classroom, you have yet to compete. A riveting presentation, yes. I'm certain your classmates are thankful for the life lesson, but I'm going to have to ask you to see me after class to discuss your failed assignment."

"FAILED?" Madison's gorgeous glass-blue eyes widen.

"Impossible."

"If you need a refresh on the rubric, I'll have that ready for you when you come to see me after class. Thank you, Miss Nichols. Now moving on."

The class mumbles a few unsavory things about me versus Madison before I settle them down, leaving her with a scathing look in her eyes. There's something invigorating about her being mad at me. I kind of want her to smack me, pull my hair, and bite my lip while I push deep inside of her sweet pussy.

Fuck. I'm going to get myself fired, or worse.

When the day is over, I expect Madison to be at the door to the classroom immediately. However, after an hour, I stop waiting and head to my office. If she's hellbent on failing, I'm not going to stand in her way.

I get to work, grading papers and going over the lesson plan for the next few days when there's a knock on the door. My heart skips a beat when I look up, but it's not Madison.

The janitor pokes his head in and looks at me with a question in his eyes.

"Normally, Carmen doesn't work this late."

"I'm not Carmen. Name's Mason. Mason Montoya, and you are?" I ask him.

"You can call me, Eddie. You, uh, plan on staying here late?"

I shrug, "I don't know. Does it matter? Principal Paulson said the building doesn't close until seven due to after-school programs. I didn't think it would be a problem if I stayed here to grade papers. I don't like taking my work home."

"Well, you're a teacher. That's one of the things I notice most of them do. I'm only saying something because what I do is make sure these offices are locked up. The after-school programs are designated to the gym and cafeteria."

I nod with understanding. "And I'm making your job difficult. Tell ya what, I'll lock up and see myself out. I'll leave word with security, and you can come see for yourself. That good, Eddie?"

"That works for me, Mason. Take it easy and don't work too hard." The janitor tips his hat, leaving me to work.

When another round of knocks disrupts me a few minutes later, I imagine it's Eddie again. Barely lifting my head, I tell him, "Eddie, I swear I'll lock up as soon as I get out of here."

"How about you lock up as soon as I get in here?"