Yes. Mr M during my sophomore year. Hoo, yes, indeedy. He was hoooot! He was a math teacher and the soccer coach. Go ahead. Imagine his body.
And he was 24, from Dublin. Just about every girl at our school, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, it didn’t matter; they all had the hots for this one. Many of the teachers fancied him as well. I was on the soccer team, so I saw him every day. He was very sweet. A little shy. Many were the times I’d look at him while just standing on the pitch during practice and wish fervently that I was 18 or 20 instead of 15. I transferred out at the end of the year to another school, he went home to Dublin and I never saw him again.
I ran into my dirty old man biology teacher from freshman year, Mr P, on the street one day shortly before I went off to uni. He tried to chat me up after checking that I was 18. :/ I stood there thinking, “Why isn’t this Mr M?”
Oh, James. ::sigh:: Call me!