Teacher

She wore the tightest yellow dress in her closet and a head full of arguments against that woman. An hour later, she no longer knew whether she hated or desired her.

I’d spent the whole morning imagining being caught. I didn’t expect it to be the professor I’d been thinking forbidden things about for months.

I crossed the empty campus with my lab coat against my naked skin and my heart racing. Adrián was waiting inside, and we both knew we wouldn't be sleeping that night.

She lowered the blinds, locked the door, and stood behind me. “You just need to relax,” she whispered. What came next wasn’t on any exam.

When Tobías’s teacher gave me her personal number “in case anything urgent came up,” I knew it had nothing to do with my son’s grades.

I’d spent months fantasizing about her in silence. That afternoon, during the lesson, she looked up from the book and said: You need to be more careful with the bathroom door.

She woke with her back to me and my teeth marks on her shoulder. I told her the bathroom was mine, and she obeyed without question.

She knew he watched her too long, trying to hide it. And, as always, she decided not to let it go.

She knocked on my door at midnight with red eyes and a broken voice. I didn’t expect the last night of the trip to end with my student in my bed.

Her hand slid up my thigh and beneath my underwear. I expected to find what I had imagined so many times, but what I touched left me breathless.

I climbed over her garden fence at nine at night thinking only of confessing my feelings. I left with a video that was going to change both our lives.

That September morning I saw the shyest girl in class walk in. It took me two weeks to realize the shy one wasn’t her, it was me.

When the other students left and the evening light came through the windows, she locked the door and asked me to play for her—just for her.

I arrived at the square expecting a polite coffee with the woman who taught me to read poems at seventeen. What happened next wasn’t in any book.

I came down wearing nothing but a towel, and on the next-to-last step I discovered the room was full of people who had already seen me completely on the screen.

Her mom went out on an errand, her sister left with her friend, and we were left alone. Camila opened her biology book and started asking questions no teacher answers.

The elevator panel died between two floors. She smiled, stepped toward me, and said quietly that she knew exactly what was on my mind.

When I saw her get off the bus with the pink backpack over her shoulder, I understood that she had already made up her mind—and that I was only going to play my part.

I sat down in front of him, took his hands, and started talking. I knew every word tied me more tightly to him, even if it hurt like a badly placed caress.