School released at 2:50PM but not for Mr. Anon, his tired eyes sorting through a meaty stack of papers in need of grading. Being a male teacher made him an outsider and brought with it a host of biases, he needed to go above and beyond to assuage concerns even if they only lived in the minds of speculative parents and colleagues. If that meant coming in early and staying late or keeping himself available on the drop of dime, so be it.
Some may have said that he was only teaching 5th grade, that the children didn't requires such an attentive figure at this junction, but he didn't buy that. Mr. Anon embraced potential, and the challenge that came with developing it; their success hinged on his passion.
*knock knock knock*
A soft tapping rapped at the classroom's door, Mr. Anon's weary eyes darting from a half-baked lesson plan to the clock: 5:32PM. 'Who was still here at this hour?' he pondered, knowing that most of faculty and even janitorial staff had left for the evening; nevertheless, he answered.
Waiting on the other side was Nadia Copper, who glowed a brace-faced twinkle, "Good evening, Mr. Anon!" A grass-stained soccer uniform clung to her sweat-soaked, tan skin, schoolbag slung loosely over one shoulder; Nadia was a sweet kid.
"Heya kiddo," he returned a weak smile, "just finished with practice?"
"Yup!" She fixed her glasses, realigning them from the tip to the bridge of her pert nose, "I'm gonna play for the team! I'm super excited!" Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm.
Mr. Anon's smile widened as he remembered the first time she came to him about playing soccer, often keeping him updated with her progress on the team; the little girl's spirit was endearing. A question lingered on his mind, "That's awesome! Are your parents on their way? It's getting a little late, huh?"
Nadia shook her head, "Mom said she'll be home a little late and my dad's on a trip" She sighed slowly, as if disappointment was a frequent sentiment when it came to the matter, "It's okay though... I usually just walk." Nadia's eyes were forlorn, vaguely obscured by the glint of thick-lensed glasses.
"You sure?" he asked. "If you need a ride, we can always call your mom..."
Stirring from the daze, she declined, "No thanks, I like walking!" A short, awkward pause before she spoke again, a bit fidgety this time, "H-Hey Mr. Anon, could I get some help with something? My math homework is all messed up!"
"Sure," he replied, feeling bad for her but also relieved; this made staying after worth it. Math wasn't her strongest suit but there had been progress. He wondered what could be giving such a hardworking girl trouble. "I'll take a look." He looked around and pointed to a couple of desks, "Could you show me what you're working on?"
Nadia nodded and walked over to one of the desks, where she set down her bag and pulled out a notebook and pencil; a small hand swiped away a few stray stands of hair, pushing them over her ear.
"Here," she handed him the packet, "this is my math homework, I think."
Mr. Anon flipped through the pages and was perplexed by her request: she'd done an excellent job. "Hey Nadia," he started, "do you know how much 4 times 8 is?"
She looked confused, "Um... 32?"
"That's right, and it's right here on the paper, kiddo. You're actually doing really good!"
Her face lit up, "Really?!"
"Yeah, you got it down. I notice how hard you've been trying and it's paying off." he grinned, feeling proud of her; it was obvious that Nadia didn't want to discuss math. Mr. Anon set the paper down, assuming a concerned expression, "What'd you really wanna talk about, Nadia? Everything ok?"
The girl seemed a bit sheepish, "Well, uh, I kinda wanted to ask you about something else...boy stuff."
"Oh yeah?" He paused, trying to keep himself collected, "What about it?"
"Um...well I had a question..."
This was dangerous territory so Mr. Anon's next question was purposeful, "How about you tell me more?"
"Umm, well," a slight blush filled her puffy cheeks, "I've been feeling kinda weird lately and I don't know if it's because I'm growing up or if it's cause of something else... but I was wondering if you might help me out with something?"
"Anything, Nadia," he replied, eyes lingering on her budding chest, "anything at all; go ahead."
"It's about...sex." She hesitated, her voice wavering slightly, betraying some indescribable yearning. Mr. Anon felt a chill run down his spine, her tone shifting from nervous to flirtatious. Nadia was barely able to contain herself; Mr. Anon had roused an alien sensation in her mind and body. "I've heard that it feels really good when boys touch girls' breasts and stuff. Do you think I'm ready for that?"
His mouth fell open in a delayed gasp, a sudden rush of adrenaline filling him. This was not the conversation he'd expected. The room was silent for a moment, the air heavy with tension. "Uh, I'm sorry, Nadia, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you asking me for advice on this? I don't know how appropriate this is..."
"I just thought you were a cool teacher and I trust you," she continued, her voice cracking slightly. "I mean, you're always so nice to me and you're really smart, too!"
Mr. Anon felt a surge of pride and love for the sweet girl, bordering on something that wasn't right; a storm of emotions raged in the teacher's chest. "You know, I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to come to me with this, Nadia. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have." It was either him or the internet; clearly she didn't feel too comfortable discussing such matters with her parents. Despite how his attempts to morally justify the interaction, Mr. Anon was also a man at his core; the aroma of her young, sweaty body lit his urges ablaze.
"Thanks, Mr. Anon! So...um...can I ask you some more stuff?"
"Sure, but we can't tell anyone about this Nadia. It'll be like," a lump caught in his throat, "like me helping with your math homework. No big deal, but we can't tell anyone, promise?"