Up In Smoke Pt. 04

Notes: No real disclaimer today, just an apology. I tried to figure out how to cut this story in half, but I didn't feel there was a natural break in any part without leaving both halves weak, so its long. If you are enjoying the story, then great, but I think it might be too long for others. So I'm sorry. Maybe I will actually be able to write a shorter story eventually...But I doubt it.

So here we go, the story below contains Drug-Usage with elements of Mind-Control and NonConsensual/Reluctance Sex. All Characters are 18 years and older. The Story is a work of fiction, and certainly does not condone any actions within, so please don't try any of this at home.

With that, sit back and enjoy Up In Smoke, Pt. 4. Light 'em up if you got 'em up.

- - -

"Sometimes you just gotta say 'fuck it' and smoke a big ass joint,"

- Tommy Chong

"Struggle is the enemy, but weed is the remedy."

- Kid Cudi

"It's hard to be mean when you're stoned."

- Bill Lee

- - -

THE GRIND

- - -

[MARCH 20, 2017]

I awoke with a start. Was I late? It's bright out! Why didn't my alarm go off?

I looked at my phone, [07:59]. Oh, Good.

The clock ticked [08:00]. My alarm starting blaring away in my hand. I hit the Snooze button, and laid back down. I hate waking up like that, right before my alarm goes off, it always makes me think I over-slept. I just laid there with my eyes closed, trying not to fall back asleep, but at the same time not wanting to move, just luxuriate in the calmness of doing nothing before having to do something.

My alarm went off again, [08:09]. I hit snooze again, but made sure my legs started moving. I always hit snooze...now...far too many times I have turned off my phone and fallen back to sleep, only to actually be late when I have reawaken. I even set an emergency alarm over by my desk to go off later, just in case my phone failed at getting me moving. I have sleep issues. What?

But I was moving, my legs fell off the bed and dragged the rest of my body along with them. The cool floor on my legs was a nice further aide to help me wake up. I sat my body up on my bed and rubbed my face and hair, then I stretched my arms, yawning. I looked around my room for a moment, nothing had changed while I slept. There was no girl in my bed, Thuy having gotten her own room, after all, but I had still half-wondered if she would have tried to sneak into my room while I slept. But no, she had been a good girl this time and given me my quiet time.

I stood up, scratching my chest, and made my way to the bathroom, every step waking me up more as my bare feet touched the cool floor. I used the bathroom and took a quick shower. After drying myself off I went to go get clothes. I checked my pants from yesterday, but realized pretty quickly that I needed to get another pair because the zipper was broken on these from when Giang had ripped them open. I was a little annoyed at the inconvenience at first, but then smiled to myself thinking what I got gotten for the low, low price of a pair of pants. Well worth it, in my opinion. I dug out another pair of pants, figuring I could take the broken pair to a tailor and get them fixed, put them on and got a shirt too. After throwing it on as well, I took a moment to think about what I would need today. I packed my bookbag with the needed text books, work books, my folder of blank paper, pens, the works. Then I remembered I had a date tonight, smiling I thought about my plan for tonight.

I got off work at 6, but it could be earlier, depending on how fast I could get the students out of there, and I had told Amber that I would pick her up at 7. I should have enough time to get back here, drop stuff off, get changed, and then make my way over to her house. One can never be certain with Vietnam traffic, but I should be ok. That said, I didn't want to bring my book bag on my date, and I certainly didn't want to bring my magic bag of weed to the school. That is the easiest way to get caught and this is not that kind of story. So, I would have to take the chance on trying to get back here after work before heading out on my date.

I checked the time again, [08:40]. I was good, I didn't need to be there until 9, and the school was a five minute drive away. I put my shoes on, grabbed my bookbag, and made my way out of the room. I made sure to lock my door this time. God knows what Thuy would do if she found my room unlocked. Probably smoke all my weed at least, that or I would come home and find her laying naked on my bed, trying to seduce me before my date. Door locked, I got on the elevator and made my way down. Once the doors opened again, I quickly went to the kitchen to see if there was anything I could shove into my mouth quickly and found a couple left-over spring rolls in the refrigerator. I munched down on them, trying to swallow quickly, and then turned back to leave the kitchen.

Trinh had just come down and was standing in the doorway, was she following me?

"Hey Trinh, Morning. Sorry can't talk, I'm late for work." As I grabbed my bag off a chair, and made my way into the parking area of the house.

"Good Morning Ben, did you sleep well?" She had turned around and watch me make my way to my motorbike.

"Yea, I slept pretty well, thanks for asking." I replied, as I put my helmet on and walked over to unlock to the front door.

"What are you doing tonight?" Trinh asked.

"I got a date, so I might not be back until late. Why? What's up?" I had returned to my bike and was about to roll it out the door, but stopped to see what Trinh had planned now.

"Oh, another date? Oh my. Very busy boy." She flashed me another grin. "No worries, I was just seeing if you would be back for dinner. Never mind, however. Have fun on your date, I will see you later. Oh and good luck at work."

"Thanks, Trinh. I will." I rolled my bike down the little ramp we have in front of our door down to the street. Once, I set it down again outside, I turned to lock the door, but Trinh had followed me out and was watching me.

"No worries, I will lock the door, have a good day." Trinh said, eyes still locked on me with something on her face that I was too rushed to think about at the moment.

I swung a leg over my bike, straddling it, and turned on the engine. Before driving off, I quickly checked the time again, [08:53]. I should be fine, and I put the bike into gear and drove down my alley. I slowed at the end of the road, waiting for a gap in the traffic to slide into to get onto the main street, and I saw someone heading my direction foolishly use their breaks, opening a space in front of them. I took the advantage and jumped my bike into the flow of traffic ahead of the breaking fool. Who actually uses their breaks in Hanoi? I mean, seriously. Was this their first day in country?

I sped up, sliding between other drivers, slipping into any gap I could find and accelerating ahead of them. I gracefully swam my bike through traffic, like a shark on the hunt. Someone ahead of me wasn't paying attention and almost hit me when she tried to turn while I was on their left, I honked loudly and repeatedly. The motorbike's horn was more of a high pitch beep, but it got the other driver's attention anyway, and I sped around her too. I arrived at the school with plenty of time to spare, [08:58]. I slipped my bike into their parking area, hung my helmet on the handlebar, and jogged into the building.

This was my Monday/Wednesday/Friday school, one of the three I worked at. I was kind of a floating teacher, moving around to where they needed me from day-to-day, but I had arranged my schedule to spend my Mondays and Fridays here specifically because it was so close to my home. Come Monday mornings I didn't want to have to fight half-way across town in rush-hour traffic, I'd have to wake up earlier; and then on Friday evenings it gave me an easier time to get home and drop stuff off before getting to my weekend ASAP. I hadn't really been taking advantage of this accessibility these last few months, post-break-up, but tonight it was going to work to my advantage.

Today I was teaching at one of the local, neighborhood high schools, not one of the best, but a decent public school that got most of its students through their exams. Schools like this one are typical in Vietnam. The building itself was an old French design of a giant, yellow block of cement with an orange roof, and brown shutters and doors. Each classroom had an exterior door that opened onto the open-aired balcony which ringed each of the three floors. With a bright blue banner that ringed the building with the name of the school printed in a very professional style. It kind of looked like a giant beehive, and all the uniformed students were buzzing around flying into one class from another like bees.

High schools in Vietnam only cover three years, instead of the four they typically do back in the US, so the school was divided into three grades and each grade was given a floor of the building, the tenth grade was ground floor, the eleventh grade was in the middle, and the seniors were given the top floor. It was now March, and we only had a couple more months left before summer, so the whole school had gone into Study Prep Mode preparing for the upcoming end of year exams. Which were taking place at the beginning of April. Two weeks away. It was crunch time.

In Vietnam, exams are everything. It doesn't matter how good a soccer player you are, or if you are a concert pianist. They don't care if art is your passion or you want to build robots. All those extracurriculars you can do on your own time, and your own dime. Succeeding in the Vietnamese Education system relied only on two factors, exam-scores and money. The less of one you had, the more of the other you needed. And at this school, the families weren't rolling in the dough. It was a public school, and most of the families that could afford it sent their kids to private, international schools. Therefore, my students needed to work their asses off to get into better universities.

Here is a recipe for success and/or disaster. Take a bright, intelligent, eager to learn student, then add on twelve years of constant pressure from teachers, non-ending competition with your fellow classmates, no time for TV, and then throw it all into a blender with their overzealous, helicopter parents demanding the student be 'Number One', the best, better than little Hong over there, at least. Students all over the world feel similar pressures, but trust me on this, Vietnam cranked that dial up to Eleven. The people knew that their country was lagging behind other developed countries, economically and technologically; and they also knew that the only way that would change is if they worked their collective asses off. And work their asses off they did, starting at school.

...And test time had arrived.

I checked in at the front desk, then jogged over to the doorway at the end of the building to my first class of the day, walking into the classroom at exactly [09:00]. Damn, I'm good. The class was already full of 26 uniformed students, all sitting at their long-bench tables, all having their notebooks and pencils ready. None of them were quiet.

I'm not going to get into most of my day, because A) no one cares, we have all sat in a classroom before and don't care much to repeat the experience, and B) if you have never been a teacher nor have even stepped into a classroom after your own graduation, then its kind of pointless to explain about my day. I have heard people say jokes about teachers, about how easy they have it, 'Oh, they get summer vacations, lucky bastards.' It pisses me off every time I hear it. Look, you come into a class for one day, just one single day, and help out. You don't even need to be the one in charge, just sit and try to help around the class, and then you can go and tell a teacher about how easy they have it. If you can even keep your eyes open afterwards, that is.

Classrooms are pure chaos, and exam-time in Vietnam, especially so. Each and every one of my students are hoping to be Number One, none of them realizing only one can be. Their parents say it must be them, and so they have constructed the illusion that this is the only possible outcome. It can be rather heart-breaking actually, watching some of these kids have their illusions shattered right in front of their eyes. Sometimes, I think I would rather have them ask me if Santa is real, more than them ask me if they will be Number One. But equally heart-retching is watching some of those who have gradually realized over time that they aren't as smart as their fellows. They 'know' they are disappointment's to their parents and live with that guilt every day of their lives. Around exam-time you always have to keep a watchful eye on both of these types of students because having all that built up pressure can explode violently or spiral down into deep depression. Bad shit has happened before.

My day went as can be expected. Lots of questions about the tests: 'Will this be on it?', 'What about such-and-such?', 'How should we answer that?'. And lots of explaining, pleading, yelling, and crying...not all of it from the students. By the end of the day I was exhausted and frustrated, and I just wanted a drink.

Now here's a fun game: Find a teacher friend of yours and ask them what their usual poison is at the end of their day or week, because I guarantee you, they all have one. For most, its alcohol, usually something strong too, like whiskey or vodka, but I have also known a lot of younger teachers especially, who have gotten into weed because of teaching. It helps relax them at the end of the day. And no, they are not getting drunk or high at work, they are teachers. They are responsible people who care for and love their students, the booze and smoke is for after work, for stress relief. If you ever want to hear what teachers really think, join them on a Friday evening after school has been let out, and a group of them all head to their closest bar and vent about their weeks and their students. It can be quite entertaining.

But sadly, today was only Monday, even though the school day had felt like a whole week already it was only Day One and I still had to try to get my students out of here. The day's final bell had just rung and I was currently in one of my Senior classes, and not a one of my students made up to leave. They all had more questions. They were all about to take their final secondary school exams, which doubled as their University entrance exams. Now think if your last semester's high school final exam was the only test score universities you applied to would see, and you don't have that nifty football scholarship guaranteeing your way into your chosen university. Oh and no ACT/SAT to help out either. Just this test.

They all had questions and I had a date. Time to get this moving. I let each student approach my desk, ask their most pressing question to me directly. This way if they wanted to keep the question private, then the answer could be given discretely. If they asked a question that the rest of the class needed to know as well, then I could give the answer to them all. Then I pushed the student out the door. One by one, I pushed, shoved, and threw them out the door, some of whom were still asking questions as I physically carried them out of the room and deposited them outside. Eventually I was left with the last one, and I already knew who it was going to be.

Thanh, was the perpetual Number Two ranked student, and she knew it. Her parents didn't though, they expected her to be the top of the graduating class, and I could see the pressure building behind Thanh's eyes. I had taught her for two years now and knew her as well as any teacher knows their students, I knew that she needed to be handled with care. I doubted that she would be one of those to explode, she understood intellectually that she wasn't the top of the class - that realization had hit her earlier - but she was still trying to chase that goal, if for no other reason than to be able to look her parents in the eye. We had talked a lot over the last few weeks about how to get her score up.

"What do you got for me Thanh?"

"I'm scared." Her quiet voice traveling across the empty classroom.

"Why? You don't have anything to be scare of." I said as I stood up to walk over to her.

"I know I am not going to get the top mark and when I don't, I won't get into the university I want, and I will have failed my parents, and my life will be over." She said, hiccuping into her hands.

I sat down on a table top maybe six feet away from her so I didn't have to yell. "No Thanh, we have talked about this. Your life would not be over. You don't need the top mark to get into your school, and even if you didn't get into that one, there are plenty of other good schools. You parents might be disappointed, but that will pass. You are smart and hard-working, and will do marvelous in university."

"My parents say I have to get into the best medical school or I wont be a good doctor. I have to go to the best to be the best." She said, still not looking up from her hands.

"Is that what you want to be 'the best doctor'?"

"That's what my parents want."

"Is that what you want?"

Her head finally lifted and she met my eyes, hers filled with confusion.

"I don't know."

"Well, maybe take some time and think about what you want. You have two weeks before the exam, and you are as ready for it as you will be. My advice for you is that you need to relax a bit. Find some time and go out with some friends for coffee or whatever it is you guys do, and not think about marks for a few hours, just talk about what you want your lives to be like. There is a lot out there and it is not all about Med School."

"I need to study." She said, with her face a mask of neutrality.

"Yes, and you should study. You still have two weeks though before the exams. I'm sure you can find at least one night to take off and blow off some steam."

"It is my birthday on Friday." A look of dawning realization hitting her features.

"Well, there you go. Talk to your friends and go out on Friday, let them spoil you. A fun Friday is just what the doctor needs. Release some pressure before you take the exams, then you will be more relaxed the following week."

"Maybe." I could see her trying to figure out how to get permission from her parents.

"Well, I think you need to. You are likely to explode if you don't release some pressure."

"Ok, thank you Mr. Ben, I will think about it."

"Good. I will see you on Wednesday."

"Ok. Bye Mr. Ben, see you on Wednesday." She collected her book bag and walked out of the classroom, with one final look over her shoulder at me like she was about to ask something else, but I waved her out.

I watched her leave and I knew she would be fine. I guessed she wasn't going to explode like others had when their illusions were shattered, because she already knew she wasn't Number One material. She might be in risk of spiraling down into a depression after seeing her scores, but I didn't think so. I had known her long enough to know she could bounce back and do even better in whatever university she was destined to go to.

But enough thinking about that now, I had a date. I rushed back over to my desk to get my own stuff together, threw my bag over my shoulder, and made my way out of the door. I looked at the time, [17:47]. Good still early, I should be fine. However, I was on the top floor and needed to make my way down to the ground floor and out to the parking area without getting stopped by questioning students or talkative teachers. I figured at this time of the day the teachers were likewise trying to get out of here, but there were always those few that just hadn't had enough talking for the day and wanted to chat about their weekends. I didn't want to get caught in that discussion, so I decided to go into sneaky mode.