It was signed in a plain, but neat script: Mrs. Robinson
Brie's stomach did a little flip. She had dreaded the possibility of having to face her math teacher so soon. Still, she knew she couldn't avoid Mrs. Robinson forever. Taking a steadying breath, Brie quickly texted Alexa and Erin.
"Maybe she's gonna lecture you on properly closing your backpack!" Erin messaged back.
"Or teach you a lesson on squirrel removal?" Alexa added with a smirk emoji.
So much for supportive friends. She’d get them back later. "Whatever it is, I doubt it'll be fun for me. Hopefully she doesn't give me a month's detention or something..." Brie typed quickly as the lunch bell rang. Part of her wondered if she was in more trouble than Miss Carol had let on.
Brie made her way to the designated empty classroom. She found Mrs. Robinson already seated at one of the smaller desks, back in her skirt and blouse. However, Brie noticed the teacher's pumps casually discarded at the base of the desk.
"You, uh, wanted to see me Mrs. Robinson?" Brie ventured, taking a seat across from her.
The math teacher's face was tinged slightly pink, but she regarded Brie with her usual teacherly demeanor. "Yes, thank you for coming, Brielle. I felt we should have a discussion about uhm… what happened earlier today."
Before she knew it, Brie found herself stream of conscious apologizing. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry about what happened! I never expected anything like that! When the squirrel got into my backpack, I didn't know until-"
“Brie brie!” The teacher interrupted, "Sorry, I should have started with this, you are not in trouble.” Brie sighed audibly. “Yes, I'm aware you didn't intentionally bring the squirrel with you."
She paused, giving Brie a level look. "However...it was still your failure to notice it in your backpack that led to the… you know..." Brie could only nod meekly in agreement. She went on delicately. "I hope you understand that any future incidents like this will be dealt with… severely?"
"Oh absolutely!" Brie replied quickly. "I promise you’ll never be tickled in front of the class like that again."
Mrs. Robinson winced at the reminder, but held her gaze for a long moment before giving a curt nod of acceptance. "You have to understand, this sensitivity is my biggest weakness," the math teacher confided as her expression softened. "An Achilles heel, literally."
Perhaps it was the way her teacher was talking, or maybe a tiny nudge from the back of her mind pushing for more insight. Either way, Brie found herself hesitantly asking, "If you don't mind me asking...how ticklish are we talking, exactly?"
Mrs. Robinson arched an eyebrow at her student's curiosity, but didn't seem put off by the personal query. If anything, a hint of resignation crossed her features. "I suppose in light today’ events, you've earned something of an...explanation." Mrs. Robinson smoothed out her skirt, looking off to the side. "I am… extremely ticklish. From the neck down, you saw how even a squirrel sent me into hysterics. It's been...a lifelong struggle."
As if to illustrate her point, Mrs. Robinson lifted her stockinged feet and draped them over an empty chair in front of Brie's desk, exposing her soles. “Why, a simple feather could easily tickle me through my pantyhose.”
Brie couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy, but also curiosity. Actually, mostly curiosity. "I can totally relate, at least a little bit," Brie offered. "My mom's pretty ticklish too. And my sister. And me too actually." She recounted the time her mom was on a video call and she secretly tickled her tummy the entire time. Or all the sleepovers with her sister’s friends that turned into tickle fights. Or even the time when her dog Maxie was still a puppy and she got her ankles caught in the dog gate. The ever curious puppy found her ticklish soles irresistible. She finished with the squirrel causing chaos in her own family this morning.
An amused chuckle slipped from Mrs. Robinson's pursed lips. “You have a rather ticklish family it seems."
Brie hesitated before posing her next question. "Mrs. Robinson, if I may ask...what if I were to use something like a feather to tickle your stockinged feet? How intensely would you react to that?"
Mrs. Robinson's expression tightened slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Well, my reactions would be quite… pronounced. I would prove...exceptionally pliable to the demands of my tormentor. Just like your mom and those waffles." She shifted in her seat, rubbing her feet against each other.
"So you're saying that, like, if I feather-tickled your stockinged feet for long enough...I could basically get you to do whatever I wanted? Like give me straight A's for the rest of the year?"
"That’s… probably not beyond the realm of possibilities," she murmured. "Though I certainly expect none of my students would actually have the...temerity to test that, hmm?"
The barest hint of a smirk played across Brie’s features as she stashed that information away for future use. Putting on an impishly coy expression, she decided to probe further. "Well, since you're being so open about all this...I can't help but wonder where exactly you're most ticklish, Mrs. Robinson?" she asked, putting on her most innocent expression.
The math teacher's eyes widened slightly at Brie's brazen inquiry, clearly not expecting her student to seize on the topic so boldly. For a moment, she appeared to consider deflecting or admonishing the girl's cheekiness. Instead, after a pregnant pause, Mrs. Robinson seemed to resign herself to maintaining her policy of vulnerability with a sigh. Smoothing her hands over her stockinged legs self-consciously, Mrs. Robinson began to list out her weakspots.
"As you've no doubt deduced, my entire upper body is...especially sensitive: tummy, ribs, bellybutton, you name it. My feet likewise are a hot spot. The arches, toes, soles. My knees too. Among other parts.”
She couldn't quite seem to meet Brie's avid gaze as she finished speaking. Brie for her part didn’t think that would actually work and didn’t have a proper response prepared. "Wow, Mrs. Robinson," she stammered inelegantly. "I had no idea you were so...so ticklish."
"Don’t get me started, Brielle," the math teacher sighed. "Why, when I was your age..."
On her left shoulder, a tiny angelic figure with feathery wings and a golden halo appeared, a mini cherubic version of Brie herself. At the same time, a devilish doppelganger with little horns and a pitchfork materialized on Brie's other shoulder. Curiously, the pitchfork had a little feather fastened to the end, almost like a tickling implement.
The angel voiced her conscience. "You can't seriously be thinking of using this very private information against Mrs. Robinson!"
The devilish voice on her other shoulder animatedly countered. "Oh, come on! This is the golden opportunity! When else are you gonna get a chance to have someone as impressive as Mrs. R wrapped around your finger?"
As the angel and devil personifications bickered back and forth on her shoulders, the teen vaguely made out her teacher continuing to speak. Brie being Brie, it wasn’t long before a tickle fight broke out. Devil Brie pounced forward and unloaded a furious volley of strokes from her feather-pitchfork directly onto her angelic twin’s bare midriff, the fronds seemingly having a mind of their own curved around her belly to brush over all the soft skin.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!! STOHOHOHOHOHOP IIHIHIHIHIHIT!!”
The devil merely grinned wider, feathering her pitchfork back and forth. With a sudden burst of strength, the heavenly cherub seized the devil by one ankle and gave it a firm tug. Angel Brie had managed to take the legs from under Devil Brie rendering her prone to the angel’s feathery wings, which were now fluttering over the demonic figure's torso.
"HEE-HEE-HEEEEEE!!! NOHOHOHOHO HAHAHAHA!!" Devil Brie cackled and thrashed as the feathers danced across her exposed armpits and sides.
The young girl was only half listening to Mrs. Robinson, story "...quickly became...a source of amusement, for my peers, I mean sleepovers, birthday parties…"
The screaming and laughing on her shoulders came to a sudden halt as Brie seized the miniature figures into her fists, with only their heads and feet protruding. Then taking her other hand, using the very tips of her nails, she lightly dragged them over both sets of helpless wiggling soles. Devil Brie's raucous cackles of glee melded with Angel Brie's frantic shrieks into a brief cacophony of mirth, before the two slumped finally quiet. Brie gently laid them back on her shoulders, tuning in just to catch her teacher recounting her sorority hazing rituals.
"...and after securing my ankles to the bedposts, they would take their sweet time...brushed their nails against my heels all the way to my toes…” Noticing Brie’s intense stare, she composed herself, “...but I think that’s enough reminiscing for this afternoon..."
Brie gulped, not sure what to do with all this information. She had never expected the mostly serious algebra teacher to be harboring such a tickle filled past, and even more, to have her open up about it.
"Oh, the poor dear..." Angel Brie wheezed out "Perhaps...there's a way we could help her finally confront and overcome these lingering vulnerabilities?" Angel Brie was definitely reminiscent of her mom, Hillary.
But on the other hand...
"Oh puh-leeeeeeze!" Devil Brie suddenly cut in. "Why would we wanna go and 'cure' her little hangup? Let’s have some fun, and maybe get something out of it also!"
The two choices lay before her like a quiz question she hadn’t studied for (which happened quite frequently). Perhaps, it would be prudent to seek some advice from a third party. There were a lot of people she could talk to, but then she would risk spreading the secret Mrs. Robinson tried so desperately to keep. What to do?
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