“Tell me your feelings on Christmas.” Doctor Reid says.

Christmas? The Holiday Season? It didn’t mean much to Trent. Growing up in the orphanage, they had a tree, a few ornaments, and some lights that barely shone. It was always a big deal for the kids to put it up, but it didn’t make much sense to Trent, seeing as there were rarely gifts beneath it on that morning they call Christmas.

By the time he was adopted in his teens, Christmas had lost all its appeal and luster for Trent. His parents bought him things. And the gifts were nice, but he never enjoyed them too much. He’d learned not to get attached.

And since he had no wife and no kids--or at least, none that he knew of--Christmas was pretty much just another day of the week for him. The only thing he really enjoyed about the holidays was the break from work or school and the drinking.

He told Doctor Reid this, she making notes as usual. Then, he asks, “Why is it always so cold in here?”
“Oh, it’s not hot enough for you?”
“No, not nearly. I’m freezing. Feel my hands.” He extends his hand out for her.

She looks down at his hand, a small impassive smile emerging. She stands, walking over to the thermostat, clipboard pressed to her chest. Trent’s eyes follow her. She turns up the temperature and returns to her chair.

“Is it just me or do you feel this sexual tension between us?” Trent asks, blatantly.
Without hesitation, “It’s just you.”

He laughs in his head. He knows they end up going at it on the couch…eventually.

“What’s your obsession with sex?” She’s interested.
“Obsession? I don’t have an obsession.” He’s defensive.
“I think you do. You have an obsession with quite a few things, sex and alcohol particularly.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with having a good time. And a good fuck--Can I say ‘fuck’ in here?”
“You can say whatever you want.”
“Well, yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all. They’re two normal practices, but you take part in them far more than others.”

He laughs, sitting back on the couch, rubbing his temples.

“And laughter would be your defense mechanism…” She scribbles something. “Why don’t you tell me about when you lost your virginity?”
“Are you serious?” Trent asks.
“Yes, I’m interested to know why you look to sex to solve your problems.”
“You forget alcohol.” He looks to her, noticing she’s not joking, he changes his demeanor. “Well, what would you consider my first time?”
She sighs. “Penetration.”

Silence lingers. Heads are down, some studiously reading, some sleeping.

The clock ticks, the minute hand seems to take years to finally reach twelve. Once it does, the bell rings loudly, prompting the students to pour out of the classroom and into the hall, the teacher yelling the weekend’s assignment over all the commotion.

Trent remains at his desk, book in hand.

After a few moments, he stands, approaching the teacher’s desk.

“It was a Friday. So, the building was practically empty within minutes. We were reading ‘Romeo and Juliet’. Not much of a fan of Shakespeare, but it was for school… I got cast as Romeo in the class production of the play. I didn’t object, but I soon realized that it was too much for me to handle. I couldn’t remember the lines and I thought the teacher could help me. Her name was Mrs. Verrano. We called her Mrs. V for short.”

“Mrs. V, I’m having trouble with the play.” Trent says.
“Is it the kissing?” She asks.
“No, the lines. I can’t--”
“Because, I can certainly help with those scenes.”

“She had this look in her eye. And she stood up from her desk. I think I started to back up because I’d never seen her act that way.”

She takes the book from Trent’s hands, tossing it on a desk. She backs Trent against the bulletin board, grasping his neck, and pressing her lips against his.

“I tried to talk, blurting out any excuse I could think of. Telling her that I was just a student. And that she was married. And that we’d be caught. But soon, I gave in, and didn’t resist her. Every guy had fantasized about Mrs. V. She was pretty hot for an English teacher in her late thirties, so what the fuck…”

Trent kisses her back, softly nibbling on her top lip. His hands find their way up her shirt, and working on her bra, whilst hers undo his belt.

Their clothes hanging from their bodies, they move to the floor. Trent lies on his back, Mrs. V, obviously the pro in this situation, leading. She grips the seat of a nearby desk and the metal leg of another, for support, as she begins to rock slowly, gradually increasing her speed.

“It only lasted a few minutes… The excitement and the fear of being caught got to me. When we were done, I put my clothes back on, grabbed my book and threw it into my backpack. By the time I was ready to leave, she was at her desk, planning next week’s lesson plan or something. As I walked out, she said ‘See you, Monday.’ I didn’t know what to think…”
“So, what came of this little incident?”
“Well, I studied the lines the whole week-end, but the play was still a disaster. No one else had cared too much about it. But, I got my A.”
“I see.” Doctor Reid says.
“You see what?”
“I think you associate sex with success and it will be the cure-all for your problems…You were telling me about your dreams…Did you have a dream about this teacher?”
“No, not that I recall.” Trent notices something happen in Doctor Reid’s behavior. It’s almost as if he sees a light bulb illuminate above her head.
“I have a challenge for you…” She says.
Oh, shit. “A challenge?”
“Yes. I want you to go a month without sex.”

He erupts in laughter, honestly believing that she’s joking. After regaining his composure, he finds that she’s dead serious.

“No, I’m telling you now: I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Can’t I just go without drinking for a month?” He’s done that before, figures it’ll be easy.
“Yes, add that, too.”
“Add?! This shit is crazy.”
“And this challenge will include, no penetration of any kind, no oral, and no other technicality you can think of. And no masturbation.”
“I don’t masturbate.”
“Good, so that won’t be a problem.”