Westwood Regional High: In His Defence..

The first time he saw her watching him he thought it was just his imagination. She was young, had to be a junior, and was petite and blonde.  She was much too pretty to be looking at him the way she was. And yet, it appeared she was. Her eyes seemed to follow his every move as her mouth sat slightly open, her hands formed tight fists at her side. She looked to be in a battle with herself. Mind somewhere far away, lost in thought.

The second time he saw her watching him he was sure it was more than just friendly glances she was sending his way. She sat under a tree in the spring breeze eating an apple. She slowly took a bite and chewed as he watched her from the corner of his eye. She didn’t seem to realize he had discovered her watching him.  She watched his every move. Watched his polite nods to some of the students in his class, watched as he carried on conversations with some of the other teachers, and watched as he sat on the steps to the private school eating his lunch.

He watched her watch him every day that week.

He first learned her age when he discovered she was in his English class second semester that year. At only fifteen years old, a girl that age should not be looking at a man more than thirty years older than herself. At his much older age of forty six he felt guilty enjoying the way she watched him move across the classroom. But he did enjoy it. He loved the feel of her eyes burning into him as he went over what the course would entail for the remainder of the year. He was excited to know he would now get to see her each and every school day.

She sat in the front row of the classroom, and never took her eyes off of him all two hours of that first class. Even when taking notes she rarely glanced at the page, too caught up in his every movement. He noticed her messy handwriting scribbling unevenly across the page and smiled. He felt a pull to her he couldn’t describe. A need to get to know her in ways a teacher should never know a student.

He looked forward to her class every day.


After reading her first poem he was fully infatuated with her. She was amazing, full of talent, a breath of fresh air. He wanted her. That fact he could no longer deny, even to himself. He pleasured himself to her poem that night, and many more times throughout that weekend.

Monday he grumbled at her to please stay after class. After spending much of the weekend fantasizing about her, he felt the need to get close to her. Not to cross any boundaries, but to get close enough to smell her, to feel her presence.

After their first meeting, it was easy to find excuses to speak with her after class.


He waited until she turned sixteen to turn all his fantasies into a reality. The first time they slept together it was fast, he completely lost control and he felt rather guilty for it. It was obvious it had been her first time, and he had cared only about himself.  He couldn’t help it. A fantasy of his for almost a year, he couldn’t have stopped once they had started even if she had asked him to.

They made plans to meet again, and carried on that way for some time. He lost himself when he was with her, became someone he no longer recognized. She consumed his entire being. She was all he thought about, and when he wasn’t with her he felt as if a piece of him was missing.


The day he realized he was falling for her was also the day he realized he would soon have to end it. She had been in love with him for a while, that much was obvious, but it hadn’t really hit him until nearly her graduation. Two years of secret meetings and heated make out sessions and he only just now realized how much he loved her.

However, as much as he loved her, he couldn’t be with her. He couldn’t take her out into public and let the world see the perverted old man he was. The forty nine year old with the eighteen year old, his mother would be so very proud.

The decision to end things with her was the hardest decision he ever had to make.


The day he met his new co worker was the day he set out to get over his dirty obsession. He felt little to no passion for this new woman, but the way she smiled and stuttered around him made him feel content. He thought he could be happy with her, and that seemed like the easiest road to take at this point in his life. The easy way to get over the girl that now consumed his every thought.

He put his all, his everything, into his new co worker. Asked her questions, smiled, flirted. The more he got to know her, the less he felt for her. She was nothing compared to this amazing student he had let steal his heart. He felt sick to his stomach, fully realizing the love he felt for her, and knowing he would never be able to tell her his true feelings.


He broke her heart on her last day of school. It had needed to be done. The only easy way to end things. He knew she would come looking for him, so he waited. He waited with his new co worker, gazed into her eyes and mustered up all the emotions he could fake.

His stomach flopped as he heard her slow footsteps approaching. He waited until he heard her quick breath and then the dead silence that followed. He knew he had broken her heart completely and for that reason alone, his heart broke right along with hers. The only thing in this world that had ever given him pure happiness, true bliss, and he watched it run right out the door.

He was a man almost in his fifties. A smart man and a teacher. A man who couldn’t date an eighteen year old former student. A man who was slowly building a life he could accept.

He broke her heart, and lost a piece of himself with her.