Submission of the Bully Girl
The clock on my phone reads 07:48.
I open the door to the staffroom.
The same clicking of heels from yesterday approaches.
Park Soyeon is standing in front of my desk again, holding a clipboard.
"Teacher Han, where is that data from yesterday?"
"I printed it out and left it on your desk."
"Good. There are only fifteen days left until the CSAT. You know what happens if you mess up again, right?"
"Yes."
Park Soyeon taps my desk with her clipboard.
This time, she stops after a single tap.
Unlike yesterday, the clipboard remains still.
Park Soyeon returns to her seat.
I sit down and turn on my monitor.
That bitch has been having an affair with the Academic Dean for four years.
Thanks to her secret, I know everything now.
Yet, Teacher Park still taps her clipboard on my desk today.
Anger smolders deep inside me.
During the break after the first period, I walk down the hallway near the music room.
Han Seah, the music teacher, walks toward me.
She is a junior colleague who was appointed last year.
She is two years younger than me and highly popular with the students.
"Hello, Sunbae-nim."
"Oh, hey."
Han Seah bows her head slightly as she passes by.
For the past year, she has always cast her eyes downward whenever we cross paths.
She acts like someone harboring a deep secret.
At my desk, just before clocking out.
My phone clock reads 17:36.
I open the messenger app.
The small star next to Jung Haerin's name is still there.
It's the favorite marker I clicked yesterday.
This is the second summons.
When I call, Haerin comes.
Twice a week.
Those are the rules of our deal.
No reply comes.
I don't know where she is right now.
I turn off my monitor and grab my bag.
I head home.
I arrive at my studio apartment.
I change into a gray hoodie and sit at the dining table.
The clock reads 19:24.
Thirty-six minutes left until eight o'clock.
...
Thirty minutes pass.
The clock reads 19:54.
The doorbell rings, and the door opens.
Jung Haerin is standing there.
She is wearing a thin beige trench coat over her shoulders.
Only the top two buttons are done up.
A glimpse of what looks like a black mini dress is visible underneath.
Thin shoulder straps.
The cups of her bra outline her breasts sharply against the fabric.
The hemline is cut far above her knees.
She wears sheer black stockings.
And twelve-centimeter black pumps.
Her makeup is heavy.
Three times heavier than when she came to my apartment yesterday.
Smoky eyeliner paired with bold red lips.
Her hair is styled in thick curls cascading over her shoulders.
She carries only a small clutch.
The heavy scent of cosmetics is faintly laced with the smell of cigarettes.
Where on earth was she before coming here dressed like this?
A trench coat over sheer black stockings at eight in the evening is certainly not everyday attire.
"Teach, you're seriously insane. I was out with my friends when your message came. Do you have any idea how hard it was to slip away? Seriously. We had just ordered dessert at a cafe, and I had to leave without even taking a single bite. I didn't even have time to change, so I came straight here like this."
"I'll send you the money for the dessert."
"Is that the problem here? Are you seriously out of your mind?"
"It's a deal. You have to show up according to the rules."
"Ugh, seriously..."
I sit at the table.
Jung Haerin sits across from me.
She keeps her trench coat on.
She clutches her bag tightly against her lap.
"Today, you're going to masturbate. Just like I did to you yesterday."
Jung Haerin freezes for five seconds.
"What? Do what? What do you want me to do?"
Haerin stammers, completely flustered.
"Touch your breasts and your pussy. Masturbate in front of me. Until you climax."
"Damn it... You're seriously a psychopath, Teach. You want me to do that? Seriously?"
No response.
Jung Haerin falls silent for ten seconds.
She squeezes her thighs together, then lets them part.
Her hands tremble on her knees.
"You really want me to do this? Right in front of you? This is absolutely insane. Seriously."
"If you don't want to, you can leave."
"Fuck, seriously... What the hell am I even doing here? It's been four years since I graduated."
No response.
Jung Haerin lets out a deep sigh.
Her hands move to the shoulders of her trench coat.
She shrugs off the already unbuttoned coat, letting it drape over the side of the chair.
"Ah, seriously... Are you really going to watch everything, Teach? Every single bit? This is so ridiculous, honestly."
Under the harsh fluorescent light, her outfit is fully revealed.
A black mini dress.
Thin spaghetti straps.
A deeply plunging V-neck.
Her breasts are pushed up by the cups, exposing the soft, pale flesh of her cleavage.
The waistline is incredibly tight.
The hem barely covers her upper thighs.
"Damn it... I can't believe I'm sitting in front of my high school teacher dressed like this. I must be losing my mind."
Haerin's hands move to her shoulder straps.
She pauses.