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Hot For Teacher

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Beca's alarm wailed promptly at six thirty in the morning. She groaned, slamming her hand against the snooze button. She sighed, sitting up in her bed. She rubbed her eyes, yawning loudly. Today was her first day at Barden High and she was set on making it semi-decent. She stepped out of bed, heading to the bathroom to take a shower. She turned on the water, testing its warmth with the tips of her fingers. She stepped under the hot water, relaxing into the sound of the water hitting the porcelain. She sung to herself, rubbing the soapy loufa against her body.

'You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say,
You shoot me down, but I get up,
I'm bullet proof, nothing to lose,
Fire away, fire away,
Ricochet, you take your aim,
Fire away, fire away-'

Her singing was cut off by violent knocking against her door.

"Hurry up, Becks! You're gonna be late for your first day of school!" Her father shouted through the door. Beca groaned, shutting off the water. She enveloped herself in a towel, letting her hair down from its loose bun. She drew on her thick eye liner, swiped mascara on her lashes, brushed her teeth, and ran through her hair. She threw on a black v-neck, skinny jeans, and her signature combat boots. She grabbed her backpack and ran down the stairs.

"Ready to start a new life?" Her father smiles.

"Sure..." Beca rolled her eyes. She loved her father, almost out of pity, but he was ridiculous. Her mother left them several years ago after he discovered she was having an affair with a guy at the office. Her father moved on quickly, marrying her step-mother Sheila, or as Beca lovingly referred to her as the step-monster.

"Off we go then." Mr. Mitchell opened the door for his daughter. Beca climbed into the car, and they went on their way.

Beca wandered into the front doors of the school, entering the office. It was light and pristine, buzzing with chatty women running around like chickens with their heads cut off. She walked up to the front desk, waiting for the secretary to notice her presence. The woman looked up from her paperwork, scowling with pursed lips.

"Name?" She said blankly.

"Um," Beca started awkwardly. "Beca Mitchell." She craned her neck to look at the paper work. The woman riffled through her papers, grabbing a green sheet of paper.

"Here's your schedule and a map of the school," She handed over the papers, "If you get lost, whatever you do, do not ask the seniors where to go." She warned, returning to her papers.

"Oooooookay." Beca raised her eyebrows.

She strode out of the office, looking to her schedule for where to go. Her first class was Classical English in the west wing. She glanced at the map and started down the hallway. She ventured down the final hallway to the second classroom on the left. She looked at the plaque by the door,

"Mrs. Beale." She mouthed to herself, grabbing the handle. She walked in and no one was in there. She shrugged, finding a desk. She shrugged her backpack off her shoulder, pulling out a notebook and a pen. She was determined to make better grades this year, so maybe, just maybe, her dad would finally get off her back. She wrote her name in her crooked scrawl in the top left hand corner of the page.

A redhead woman bummed the door open with her hip, carrying a large box full of papers. Beca's head shot up at the sound, pleasantly surprised to see the young, attractive woman. The woman's glasses slid off of her nose and she grabbed anxiously at the sides of the box. She looked up when she heard Beca, jumping in fright and dropping her box.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me!" The woman laughed lightly. Beca stood up, rushing over to help pick up the papers.

"I'm sorry, um, I'm Beca. I'm new." Beca stuttered out nervously, shoveling papers back into the brown cardboard box.

"Beca," The woman murmured to herself, "I'm Mrs. Beale." Her hand shot out for a hand shake. Beca shook her hand, glancing up into the teacher's eyes. She gasped quietly when she saw how blue they were, shaking Mrs. Beale's hand mindlessly. Mrs. Beale smiled kindly, blushing at the eye contact. She cleared her throat and withdrew her hand.

"Well, I hope you like European Lit, Beca." Mrs. Beale jested.

"Oh, of course." Beca played. She put the last of the papers up, and picked up the box. "Where do you want this?" Beca asked quietly.

"Um, just on the desk." Mrs. Beale rubbed her hands against her tight pencil skirt. Beca obeyed, setting the box down on the edge of the desk. She looked up at a frame on the teacher's desk. She picked it up, seeing Mrs. Beale and a man, obviously on their wedding day.

"This your husband?" Beca inquired.

"Oh," Mrs. Beale gasped lightly at the student's curiosity, "Yeah, that's Mr. Beale."

"That's a shame." Beca whispered. Mrs. Beale quirked her brow when she heard this, a small smirk on her face. Beca retired to her seat as students started to flow into the classroom. Beca rolled her eyes as the stereotypical cheerleader flounced in, a bulky football player on her arm.

"I'll see you later, babe." The boy said gruffly.

"You know it." The blonde squeaked, peaking him on the cheek. The blonde sat down next to Beca, glancing over at her.

"Oh my goodness, are you new?" She beamed.

"Um, yeah." Beca shook her head out of staring at the teacher. "I'm Beca." She said, biting her lip so she wouldn't laugh at the perky cheerleader's dorky expression.

"I'm Aubrey." She glowered. She scribbled something down on a slip of paper and handed it to the new girl.

"This is my number," She said happily, "If you ever need anything, or just want to talk, shoot me a text. We're gonna be the best of friends." Aubrey said firmly.

"Okay then." Beca chuckled, shoving the slip of paper in her pocket.

The bell rung and class started. Beca couldn't find herself to absorb anything her teacher was saying, she was far too busy admiring her stunning assets. She examined her desk, noticing that her first name was Chloe. She smiled to herself, writing down Mrs. Beale's name in her notebook. She looked up at the lecturing teacher and made immediate eye contact with her. Beca winked flirtatiously and Mrs. Beale blushed, digressing from her lecture. All the students furrowed their brow at the sudden stop and Beca laughed to herself once more. The rest of class flew by and more glances were stolen. At one point, Mrs. Beale dropped her papers, and proceeded to bend down and retrieve them. Beca tilted her head, admiring the view. The tight pencil hugged the teacher's ass so nicely, Beca had to bite down on her lip so she wouldn't sigh. The bell rang again and the students began to clear out. Aubrey bent down and hugged Beca's shoulders, blabbering on about hanging out that night or something.

"Beca, will you stay after class, please?" Mrs. Beale called out. The class room emptied and the teacher closed the door, sitting on the edge of her desk.

"Beca, I realize you're new, and you haven't quite absorbed any of this yet," The teacher started, removing her glasses. Beca smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. "But, I need you to know that whatever your motive behind the glances, and the winks, and the admiring of my rear-end," the blush rose to her cheeks again.

"You saw that?" Beca asked smugly.

"Of course I did, you were practically drooling." Mrs. Beale rolled her eyes. "Anyways, as you know I am married, so whatever your motive is, I am not interested." The teacher finished, pursing her lips. Beca blinked slowly, cheeks aching from smiling.

"Chloe," Beca started. The teacher scowled at the mention of her first name. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't find me attractive." Beca purred, grabbing the woman's hand.

"I regret to inform you that I absolutely do not." The ginger woman adverted her eyes, snatching away her hand. Beca craned her neck to whisper in her ear,

"We'll see about that." Beca breathed confidently. Beca strode back down the aisle and grabbed her things. She winked at the teacher once more before she left, eliciting another glare from the older woman. The door shut behind the petite brunette and the teacher brought her hand to her forehead.

"Shit." She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

To Be Continued...