I was the hot teacher. Every student’s dream girl. But the guy I helped? He doped me up. As I mumbled “honey” in a daze, his hands went where they shouldn’t. Later, he bragged. Spread our videos everywhere. “Dream girl? Ha! I’ve had her. Nothing special.” Just like that, I fell from grace. My husband left. My parents became outcasts. The school fired me. The cyberbullying crushed me. I jumped from the school roof. Then I woke up. Back to the day that guy first came to our class. There I was. Standing in front of my senior class again. Same old boho dress. White sandals. Looking good as ever. Still the young, gorgeous lit teacher. We got a new kid. Charity case. His first day. He shuffled in. Everyone stared. Whispers broke out. “Jesus. He looks like a horror movie extra. Talk about a letdown.” “Not to be mean, but I might puke. For real. Sorry.” He limped in. Face full of acne scars. Huge nose. Mole the size of a quarter underneath. “H-hi everyone. I’m new. Hope we can get along.” His eyes never left me as he stammered. I couldn’t breathe. Ethan Rivers. A name I’d never forget. Not in a thousand lifetimes. Last time, I pitied him. Stood up for him against bullies. Bought him clothes. Taught him confidence. Then one stormy night, he followed me home. Stupid me let him in. He spiked my drink. I lay on the couch. Called for my husband. His shaky hands unbuttoned my shirt. Then I blacked out. Helpless. Next day, I woke up bruised. Ran to the cops. But he’d vanished. For days, I was a wreck. Jumping at shadows. Then I saw it. High-def video. Every group chat. Caption read: “Dream girl? Please. Had her. Nothing special.” It was me in the video. Whimpering. Sobbing. Begging. The internet exploded. See, I’d gone viral before. Some candid shot. They called me “The Girl Next Door”. “The Unattainable Dream”. #DreamTeacherSeducesStudent #DisgraceToTheProfession He never owned up. Just hid in the shadows. Giggling like a creep. Sending anonymous texts: “Ms. Summers, we’re both in the gutter now. Be with me. I’ll treat you right.” I couldn’t take it. The online lynch mob. So I climbed to the school roof. And jumped. Three months pregnant. From everyone’s dream to public enemy number one. Rock bottom. But now? Standing at that podium again? Watching him in the back row? I felt fate shifting. My chance for payback. He looked up. Thick accent: “‘The bubbling spring is voiceless in its flow; In shadow of the trees, a fountain plays.’ Ms. Summers, I’m… I’m Ethan. Ethan Rivers.” The class lost it. “Dude, seriously? You know our teacher’s Ms. Olivia Summers, right?” He froze. Then flashed a shy smile.
Our eyes met. Chills down my spine. I played it cool. This time, he knew nothing. I could stop it all. “New kid. Anyone want to sit with him?” He’d started late. Already twenty. Built big. Face like it went through a meat grinder. Dead silence. No volunteers. Then Megan, class rep, raised her hand. “Ms. Summers, I’m class rep. I should set an example. I’ll sit with him.” Megan’s face? Kind. Honest. Just like I used to be. I shot her down cold: “Heard your grades sucked before transferring. Don’t want to hold Megan back. Take that empty seat in the back.” Plenty of spots open. I’d picked the worst option. He looked shocked. Like he couldn’t believe I was throwing him under the bus. Ethan’s lips twitched. He mumbled: “How… Ms. Summers looks so nice. Why’s she picking on me too?” Every word made my skin crawl. After class, I bolted to the staff room. Back soaked in sweat. Didn’t even notice as I chugged scalding tea. Mind racing. Quit now? Run? I’d fought hard for this job. Sleepless nights studying. They never switch teachers in senior year. Not with finals coming. Why give it all up because of him? I sat there. Dazed. Until home time. Michael picked me up. Waited half an hour in his car. Saw me coming. Rushed to open the door. Pulled me close. “Babe, you look terrible. What’s wrong?” His familiar warmth. I lost it. Sobbed like crazy. We’ve always been solid. Last time, we fake-divorced. To protect me from the hate. Moved to a new city. Fresh start. Later, when he saw how broken I was? He went after Ethan. Knife in hand. But Ethan used his grandma as a shield. Michael got played. Bled out on the street. Now? Looking at his handsome face? No tragedy yet? I wiped my tears. Forced a smile. “It’s nothing. Just feeling off. Let’s go home.” Michael wasn’t buying it. Dragged me straight to the hospital. Couldn’t talk him out of it. An hour later, rush blood test results. I was pregnant. Turns out, I was already carrying Michael’s baby. When he found out? Michael swept me up. Spun me around. “Babe, this is amazing! We’re having a baby!” “Hope it’s a girl. A mini-Olivia. Beautiful and sweet like you.” I smiled through tears. Made a silent promise. This time? I’d protect our happiness. No matter what. Next day, I went to class as usual. Voice still hoarse. Brought a clip-on mic. Loud voice drowned out my messy feelings. Didn’t even look his way. Just taught like normal. Few quiet days passed. Then Thursday afternoon. Just finished my last class. Heading to the staff room. Group of girls blocking my path. Helping Ethan along. He’d been roughed up. Reeked of toilet water. Bruises everywhere. Limping worse than ever. But I knew better. This poor-me act? Just a mask. Hiding the monster underneath. He was strong. Never fought back. Let the bullies have their way. Never made a sound. Long, dirty nails. Left hand a mess. Skin peeled off his index finger. Nasty wound. “Ms. Summers! Ethan got beat up! His finger’s skin is falling off! What do we do?” Girls in our class. Always playing hero. Standing up for the underdog. Ethan gave me puppy dog eyes. Nose scrunched in pain. Oily sheen made me want to gag. “Help me, Ms. Summers… please.” I was about to brush them off. Send him to the nurse. Then Jenny, our class monitor, spoke up: “Ms. Summers, don’t you have a first aid kit in your office? Nurse’s office is so far. Maybe we could patch him up real quick?” I paused. Looked at his pleading eyes. His bleeding finger. Bell rang for next class. I nodded. “Alright, come with me. Rest of you, get to class.” Ethan’s lips curled. Barely noticeable smirk. He followed me to the office. Class time. Place was empty. Casual as can be, I opened the first aid kit. Took out tweezers and gauze. “Sit down. I’ll bandage you up.” Wind rustled the curtains. Seashell wind chimes tinkled softly. I gently cleaned his wound. He suddenly blushed. I asked, “What’s wrong?” “Ms. Summers, you’re… you’re really pretty.” Ethan’s face turned red as a tomato. Stammering out the compliment. Then his eyes glazed over. Staring at my collarbone. While he was distracted, I smiled. Plunged his whole finger into the bottle. Raw, bloody finger. Now submerged in nearly full bottle of medical-grade ethanol CH3CH2OH. “Gotta disinfect properly, right?” He was horrified. Trying to pull away. Face twisted in pain. “It hurts! Ms. Summers, it really hurts!” But I kept smiling. Grip tight on his wrist. Wouldn’t let go. Bottle’s narrow opening practically swallowed his finger. Held it there. Until blood turned the whole bottle red. He’d bitten his lip bloody. Eyes bulging. Staring at me in shock. For the first time, I saw real hate in his eyes.
But he didn’t know. This time around? I was a psycho. All sunshine and rainbows to everyone else. Pure evil to him. His injury was bad. School nurse sent him to the hospital. Next few days, Ethan came to school. Hand all wrapped up. Tried hard in my class. Always raising his hand. Answering questions. I ignored him completely. Even when he won first prize. School computer competition. Brought glory to our class. I didn’t say a word. His eyes changed. From eager to dark. Once came to ask me directly: “Ms. Summers, why don’t you ever notice my efforts? No matter how hard I try?” I swiveled in my chair. Didn’t even look at him. If kindness only bred betrayal? This time, I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I could protect myself. “Because you don’t deserve it. Some things can’t be changed by trying. Like your disgusting inner self. Even uglier than your face.” Even now, I had good reason to say this. Few days ago. On my way home from work. Caught him torturing a stray cat. By the time I found them? Little white cat was already dead. Scalded by boiling water. He’d smiled and said, “This stuck-up cat scratched me. How could a cat be better than a human?” Now, Ethan glared at me. Hate in his eyes. Hands clenched under his sleeves. I didn’t care. Kept giving him the cold shoulder. Even the head teacher noticed. Frowned as he reminded me: “Olivia, teachers should treat all students the same. We shouldn’t be harsh on special cases. Should give them extra care.” But I didn’t hold back. Said right in front of Ethan: “What’s so special about him? He has hands and feet. He’s mentally sound. If we give him special treatment, is that fair to the other students?” He started to hate me. Spread rumors. Said I had a wild private life. That I was seducing the principal. That sort of thing. But on the surface? He’d still flash me a grin. Say hi when he saw me. As autumn turned to winter, Ethan started wearing shabby coats. Ripped jeans. Stuck out like a sore thumb. I’d heard he was orphaned young. Raised by his grandma. Spoiled rotten. On my 25th birthday, I won the city’s Outstanding Teacher award. Double celebration. I had a great rapport with my students. This was the job I’d always dreamed of. Several students chipped in. Bought me a huge, gorgeous bouquet. I accepted with a big smile. “Megan, Jenny, you both made top ten in the recent mock exam. Didn’t you two want to be desk buddies before? I was worried you’d chat too much and fall behind. Now, go for it.” “Travis, your literature score’s looking up. Try to shift some focus from science and math to memorizing more poetry. Easy points, right?” As I was chatting with the students, I spotted an uninvited guest in the crowd. Ethan had brought me flowers too. Whether by accident or design, it was a single white rose. Petals crushed and oozing sap. Hideous. “Ms. Summers, I saved up my allowance for a week to buy this for you. You have to like it, okay?” He held it out to me. Hope shining in his eyes. My smile vanished. In front of all the teachers and students in the office, I picked it up with a tissue. Dropped it on the floor. Wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Filthy.” Ethan’s lips quivered. But he bent down. Picked up the flower without a word. Walked away. The dark look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. But I didn’t look back. I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He always preyed on those weaker than him. Cowered before the strong.
Michael had earned a black belt in Taekwondo. In his spare time. I’d picked up some self-defense moves from him. Just in case. When I got home, my husband was waiting. Massive bouquet of roses. Voice soft and loving. “Happy birthday to my award-winning teacher, my beautiful Olivia!” Despite my excitement, I put on a sour face. Feigning disappointment. Sure enough, over our candlelit dinner, Michael brought it up. His upcoming research trip abroad. “This research opportunity is crucial for my career. Babe, I’m afraid I won’t be able to take care of you for these two months.” He sighed. My adamant refusal took him by surprise. I knew he wouldn’t believe in time travel or reincarnation. So instead, I said: “Michael, I had this awful dream the other day. After you left, someone broke into our home. And… and tortured me. When you came back to avenge me, knife in hand, they killed you instead.” “Our family of three was destroyed. But the culprit got away scot-free.” “That’s impossible. We live in a society governed by law. Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit unstable lately.” He clasped my hand. Concern etched on his face. In the end, after my relentless pleading, Michael decided to stay. Gave up his research opportunity. Out of worry for me. I felt guilty about hindering his career. But it was getting close. That stormy night when Ethan would break into my home and ruin everything. Even though my attitude towards him was completely different this time, I couldn’t risk fate playing a cruel joke on me. I remembered clearly it was on a Friday. Ethan had followed me after school. Begged me to let him in to escape the rain. But tonight, Michael was stuck in traffic. Couldn’t make it home after work. After several unanswered calls, I started to get anxious. Soon, Michael sent me a text. “Honey, accidents everywhere due to heavy rain. Highway’s jammed. Can’t get back. They’re not letting us use phones. Don’t wait up, okay?” By 10:30 PM, still no knock at the door. Rain coming down harder. Drowning out my chaotic thoughts. My taut nerves finally relaxed a bit. Finally feeling sleepy. Body covered in cold sweat. Decided to take a shower and go to bed. Hot water felt good on my skin. In the bathroom mirror, I saw my reflection. Delicate features. Straight nose. Big doe eyes with long lashes. Hint of sensuality. I caressed my still-flat belly. Michael always said I was beautiful. He wasn’t bad looking himself. Our baby would surely be a little angel. Lost in thought, I grabbed a towel to dry off. Just then, in the steamy mirror, a dark, grinning face appeared behind me. Limping closer. It was Ethan! Sheer terror washed over me. This wasn’t a hallucination. He’d cracked my home security system. In my past life, when I’d let him in to escape the rain, he’d seen my door code. This time, to avoid bad luck, I’d changed the locks. Even installed a reinforced security door. Only my fingerprint and Michael’s could open it. Had all my precautions been for nothing? Was I doomed to relive this nightmare? A cold, mud-caked hand reached in. I screamed, but my waist was suddenly gripped tight. Another hand sliding upwards. “Ms. Summers, it’s raining outside. I’m so cold. Can you… can you hold me?”
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