Maria Yzecka wrapped a black ringlet around her finger, her jaw slack as the hour rolled by. By all means, she should hate this class — her teachers had labeled her as one of the “unsavories”, with her penchant for black clothing, foul language, and spacing out in the middle of lessons, not to mention her utter ineptitude with anything educational. However, there was something in the room that held her interest.

She gazed at the small of Dobbins’ back as he scrawled some nonsense on the board.

Maybe it was an authority thing, she wondered as her mind drifted, thinking about legs and fingers and mouths wandering, yesterday’s homework floating to the floor.

“Miss Yzecka!”

Or maybe it was just because teachers were the only people who cared enough to pronounce her name correctly.

Dobbins leaned forward, his palm pressed against her desk, only inches from her own.

Maria didn’t know why she felt this way as she stared Dobbins down, her grey eyes rimmed with an inch of kohl.

But she knew it felt good.