My parents died on my 18th birthday. Later that year I slept with three of my high school teachers.
The roads were icy, we couldn't see and we were driving too fast on the way home from a family dinner. I never really dropped out of my last semester in high school; if you just stop going, they eventually stop calling your house.
When she was around, the aunt who had taken me in was very understanding. But after a summer of video games and bad pizza, come fall, I found myself walking up a well-maintained brick path to the front entrance of a massive stone building built in the gothic style.
Two stone gargoyles perched over an immaculate oak door and snarled down at passers-by. Well, they might have been snarling. The male seemed oddly...pleased, and the female's back was arched in a peculiar way.
"Admiring our mascots, I take it?"
I hadn't heard the door open. The voice, as hard and unyielding as the building's granite, came from a spindly, white-haired woman; she was laced up tight from the soles of her well-polished shoes to the large bun on the top of her head.
"Oh, yeah. They seem pissed at me."
She stared at me disapprovingly from behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. The smile she flashed was thin, and when she offered me her hand to shake I thought the touch might kill me.
"Mr. Roe. Welcome to Eros Academy. I'm Janice Mitchell, your counselor here."
"Thanks. But Jeff is fine."
The disapproving stare again. She motioned for me to enter the school.
"We're not a first name establishment, Mr. Roe."
I looked down. The floor was actual marble. We were in a long, narrow hallway, bounded on both sides by portraits of what I assumed were the school's very distinguished, very wealthy, very white, alumni.
"Well, gosh, Janice. Does that mean I'm not invited to the cotillion?"
She didn't even look back at me. The hallway ended in the school's main office; to the left and right branched off routes to the rest of the school. Mrs. LastName led me into the school's command center; it was light and airy, all glass and expensive computer equipment.
Her office, on the other hand, was the domain of someone who cultivated and cherished an air of Spartan...well, nothingness. Her walls were bare, the chairs hard-backed and without cushions. I didn't wait for her permission to sit.
She scowled, but said nothing and sat behind her cherry oak desk, the one ostentation she allowed herself; I could see my reflection in the polish. It was empty, save for a computer and a thin manila folder. Janice took her glasses off and put them on the folder; she folded her hands precisely on the desk and tried quite admirably to effect a look of concern.
"Mr. Roe, I wish to express the Eros Academy's sincere regret at the tragic circumstances surrounding your-"
"Thank you Janice, but that was six months ago. I'm done with condolences."
She cleared her throat.
"Yes, of course. But that doesn't mean-"
"Move on, please."
She looked about to press the issue, but thought better of it and pressed a few keys on her computer with precise, swift strokes.
"Well, regardless of the circumstances of your entrance to our school, we are pleased to have you here. Tell me Mr. Roe, what do you know of Eros Academy?"
"Well, you're rich and good and my aunt says you're waiving my tuition. Oh, and I imagine you've been shaping children into adults since 1673. Is there anything else I should know?"
Again, her smile was not pleasant. The lines at the corner of her mouth hardened and she replaced her glasses. Those bony hands opened the folder on her desk.
"Your transcript says you just need four classes to graduate," she said. "History, English and two electives?"
"Sounds about right, Janice."
"Might I be so presumptuous as to make a couple of suggestions?"
"You may be so presumptuous."
"For your electives, I would recommend drama with Miss Drosus and computer software with Miss Sharp. They're both fine teachers, and I think you can learn a lot under their supervision."
I thought about that for a second. I also thought of putting my feet up on her desk, but that seemed over-the-top.
"Well, drama would be fine," I said. "But I don't think I really need a computer course. I can type, run Microsoft Excel and find porn on the internet with the best of 'em."
I made it a point to look her straight in the eye when I said "porn." She shook her head and looked at her watch.
"Yes, well, those skills notwithstanding, Miss Sharp is really very good. And would I be incorrect in assuming that, during your time at Eros, you're not looking for the most stimulating educational experience?"
Insight!
"So," she continued, "can I sign you up for computer software?"
I conceded the point with the slightest nod imaginable. She made a few more keystrokes and looked at my file again.
"For English, I'd recommend Miss Wainwright. She's new here, and a bit unorthodox, but her student evaluations have been excellent."
This time she didn't wait for me to say anything. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.
"And," she said, "for history, I would-"
"Actually Janice, I had some thoughts there."
She raised her eyebrows, clearly shocked that I had some thoughts anywhere.
"Do you offer any sort of honors history? Advanced Placement, that kind of thing?"
"Why, yes, we do, but our honors courses are much more difficult and not nearly as...pleasant for our students as the regular offerings."
"I'm sure. Still, I want to take the class, and I think my transcript says I can do that."
She shook her head gravely and made one last entry in the computer. She took another look at my record.
"Now, Mr. Roe, it says here you played basketball at your old school. We have a pretty good team here. Were you interested in trying out?"
I shook my head.
"No. I'm here for my four classes and graduation. I don't need the other distractions."
At that she smiled again, but this time, there was an actual hint of mirth on her face. She extended her hand across her desk.
