Bad Teacher

Just the thought of it makes me wanna smack somebody.

Too bad I’m all alone.

I’ve only got Pepper here with me to console me, and even that doesn’t help, because all she does is remind me of him. That bastard.

And even after days have passed, I’m still thinking of him.

“Fuck him, Pepper.” She’s lying next to me on the bed, and I wrap my arm around her and cuddle her. “We don’t need that son of a bitch.”

She licks my face, and I smile. “I love you too, little Pep.” I do. I honestly do. I’ve never liked dogs, let alone loved them, but Pepper somehow managed to dig her way into my heart.

Still, I sigh. I can’t help but think about TJ and the whole panty debacle. “I just wish none of this would’ve happened. God, the shame.”

I scroll down the emails, thinking about what I’m going to do with them. Maybe I should just delete them all, so they’re gone and I won’t have to look at it again. But no matter how many times I hover over the delete button, I just can’t do it.

I growl out loud and close my laptop, flopping my face down on my pillow.

“Fucking asshole! Why did you have to do this? Right after I was starting to like you.”

Pepper barks.

“And you too … I was finally starting to warm up to you,” I say to her. “But what do I do now? I can’t go back to work. Not when I know his dirty little secret. But if I quit, I might lose you too. I don’t want that to happen, Pep.” I kiss her on the head. “He doesn’t deserve to have you back.”

She barks again, and I cuddle her harder.

But after a while of play-fighting with her, I still can’t resist the urge to open my laptop and stare at the website on screen. My website. And all those emails I’ve gotten from pervy old men who want my panties that have gone unanswered. I used to love selling to them, but ever since I started working for TJ, I can’t send them out anymore. It felt wrong.

That whole website feels wrong.

It weighs me down.

“Oh, Pep … what am I going to do?” I mutter, grabbing my phone.

When I feel like this, there’s only one thing I can do, and that’s to call Hailey.

“Hey, this is Hailey.”

“Hey, Hailey …”

“Les! How are you doing?”

“Could be better. You?”

“Aw, tell me what’s wrong,” she says.

I sigh. “Should I close my shop?”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know … It’s wrong, right? What I’m doing. It could get me in trouble.”

“Since when do you ever care about trouble?” she asks. “Is there something you wanna tell me, Les?”

“No …” I mutter, swallowing away the lump in my throat. “It’s just that I don’t know if this thing will come back and bite me in the ass.”

“Well, it could … but you started it for a reason, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to make an extra buck,” I say.

“Exactly,” she says. “So what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, but I want to start a real business one day. A good one. Non-dirty.”

“You? Non-dirty?” She snorts.

I roll around on the bed. “Shut up. I can sell something clean and wholesome.”

“Sure, you can.” She’s still sniggering.

“C’mon, be serious.”

“I am. Why not design panties instead? Or create sex toys or something?”

I burst out into laughter. “Seriously? Like that’s so much better than selling dirty panties.”

“It’s a step-up, and then you wouldn’t have to deal with all those skeevy pervs.”

“True. And you never know who’s willing to buy fresh panties,” I muse.

“I get it. You like the pervs, don’t you?”

“I do not,” I retort.

“What? Have an eye on one of them? Your boss, for example?”

I don’t know why, but my entire face turns red. “No, stop it! I’m just wondering if I should quit doing this website thing or not.”

“Listen … if having this business right now is helping you, then you shouldn’t quit. But if you feel like you should, then you should.”

“What kind of advice is that?” I ask.

“It’s the kind you get from your best friend. Because you need to make your own decision,” she smart-mouths.

“Ugh … you’re no use.” I groan, rolling around on the bed again so I can pet Pepper.

“Just like you,” she muses.

“Bitch,” I joke.

“Love you too,” she replies.

“Thanks for being my voice of reason,” I say.

“You’re welcome.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and I shoot straight up from the bed.

“Lesley?”

It’s TJ. He’s calling my name. And he’s at my door. Shit.

I hope Hailey didn’t hear.

“Was that the doorbell?” she asks.

Shit.

“No, no,” I mutter.

“Yes, it was …” She sounds way too gleeful.

“Whatever, it’s nothing.”

Again, the ringing. His voice follows. “Lesley? Please open the door.”

“Who is that? Oh my god, is that him?”

“Who? No, it’s probably a salesman,” I lie, tiptoeing around the house and wondering what I should do.