Don’t Date Your Students

Don’t date your students.

You’re probably thinking….Ewww she works at a high school!

No, I’m not talking about my prepubescent little turds (although age of consent recently changed from 13 to 16 in Espain. Olé!)

I’m talking about my dreamy 21-year-old private tutoring student. The one I’ve been salivating over for the past few weeks. The one that just randomly replaced his sister one day when I showed up to his house looking a hot mess. There he was in the living room, a tall drink of water with perfect beard scruffiness and those big, ray ban glasses framing his gorgeous hazel eyes.

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swoon

 His dad explained there’d been a change of plans and he was now my new private student. Was this a joke? I think I stupidly repeated to him a minimum of 10 times that his younger brother and sister never mentioned having an older brother.

I tried to collect myself and act as if it were any normal class, but soon the nerves kicked in and I started full on laughing at all his mistakes. Oops!

As the weeks passed and my lessons got better and more personalized I was able to relax a little more and confidently get to know him. (granted I was wearing perfume and a pushup bra)

One day he asked me to add him on facebook. Confused and excited I agreed and from there I entered the biggest mind fuck of all.

One morning I woke up to this

Image

I smiled to myself and thought “I’m in!”

The next class I practically skipped to his house planning on being flirty and charming. Today he’s going to ask me on a date for sure I thought.

But, no dice.

The class went as any other would and when the hour ended I couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied.

With friend’s encouragement I decided that I wasn’t going to give up just yet. One even suggested leaning in to help with grammar and stealing a kiss.

Being the strong, independent, single lady I am I worked up the courage to……

ask him on a language exchange.

I know. I’m lame. But, I was nervous about changing our roles from teacher and student to something more.

He smiled with that adorable little smirk and agreed to meet up “when you want”.

see?! adorable smirk
see?! adorable smirk

After a handful of those obviously flirty messages and him FB liking some of my selfies, again I thought, “I’m in!”

Finally I whatsapped him to meet up one day and he responded with an eager, “Vamos 🙂 Yo toi vestido! Te recojo?”

Here we go I thought excited to finally put an end to all the sexual tension and once and for all liarme with this tío bueno. I ran to the mirror to fix my makeup writing him I needed 10 minutes to dry my already dry hair.

After doing everything I could, giving up, trying again and then giving up again I texted him to come pick me up. With nervous excitement I got in the car and we drove over to an area with a lot of bars. Finally we sat down to a beer each and began one of the most awkward “dates” (language exchanges?) I’ve ever been on.

The conversation was alright, but we both awkwardly stumbled through using both English and Spanish. Knowing I’d invited him on the terms of this being a language exchange I tried to speak English and encourage him to do the same, although his level of English is lower than my level of Spanish.

As you may have guessed, my wicked plan started to spoil. What was supposed to be the game changing date was becoming a conversation class with beers. I tried to steer away from playing teacher and complimented his outfit. This of course made me feel even more like a teacher.

Couldn’t I have said something maybe a little sexier? Maybe touched his jacket as I said so? But no. All I could muster was, “I like your clothes.”

Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice how much I was crashing and burning. One beer became two and finally we decided to leave. When we got in his car he said he wanted to show me a song he was working on with his group and giddily I thought “omg we’re in a parking lot listening to his music! Steamy make-out session on it’s way!”

But instead he turned the keys and sent the car rolling out of the parking lot on its way to my house. In those two minutes on the way home I’m not sure if I was even coherent. I was busy racking my brain thinking of an excuse to stay out longer.

I was fighting a hard internal battle.

Q: Do I just kiss him. A: No, there’s no in. NO IN!

Q: Do I invite him up? A: wtf NO! You’re not a hussy!

All the while the seconds were ticking by. Finally we pulled up to my curb and he said a few nice things and told me we could do it again whenever I wanted. I just smiled and nodded still trying to think of something to say or do.

There was one second where the two of us didn’t say anything and just smiled at each other where I wonder if he knew how much I wanted to kiss him in that moment.

But alas, he leaned in for a double cheek kiss and I knew it was game over. I summoned my best smile and a chirpy bye and got out of the car feeling hopeless and defeated.

I collapsed in my bed and thought of everything that went wrong as I feverishly whatsapped friends recounting the night’s disaster.

“Noooooooo!” was one’s response.

Yeah, mine and yours both.

Don’t date your students.

PS

I woke up to this in the morning.

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Cute goodnight message? Smiley face? HEART?!?

?!?!?!!?

Me rindo!

Don’t date your students.

even if he does look like this...
even if they do look like this…

EDIT POST:

If you and your dreamy ex-private student just so happens to be in Bali at the same time one year later…

then by all means…

DO date your student! 😉

PicMonkey Collage

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