Dr. W. A. Frost's Ides of Revolution

 I looked around the locker room, hoping no one was watching. Luckily, it was empty. No coach, no players. I was free to enjoy my typical Friday night ritual. I’d tried this with Warren’s cleats after a long game, or Chase’s sneakers after basketball practice, but I always wanted to try with Coach Halvorson’s Nike trainers. Turning to my right, I saw them on the bench next to the bench where I was sitting. I smiled as the smell hit me, the smell that only comes from a pair of worn out, sweaty shoes. They were perfect. I reached down, picking up the sneaker. It had been soaked with sticky sweat for the past few days, the sweat dripping slowly onto the floor. He wore them all the time, on the field, in the halls, in the gym… Looking down at the floor, there was a thick dark streak, running from the shoe on the left to the shoe on the right. The streaks seemingly got wider and wider as I watched. It squirmed and pulsated, but I couldn’t look away. Looking down at the shoe, the inside ...

  Yeah, he’s pretty. Studly, sexy, the ultimate adonis. Would you be absolutely shocked to learn he was a High School History teacher? This is Mr. Rappaport. He taught AP European History at Marva Collins High School for 4 years. In that time, he won teacher of the year, brought the school basketball team to the state title, and touched the lives of hundreds of students that walked in and out of his classroom. Now, you may be thinking, this is not exactly a picture that’s appropriate for a schoolteacher. Mr. Rappaport would have vehemently agreed. It was meant as a teaser for his husband, Danny, on Valentine’s Day. Little did he know that hitting the send button his Facebook Messenger would cause his life to turn upside down. In hindsight, he should have known that Collin would have pulled something like this, especially after how pissed he was for being kicked off the team. But Mr. Rappaport never would have guessed that Collin would have snooped through his laptop during practice...