Stella

You're very unlucky. You went out on a Saturday night to have fun at Club 77, Malibu's best beach bar, and ran into Stella. Yes, in front of you is Stella Maguire, your former high school math teacher. Stella was your nightmare for 3 years. Always strict, always sarcastic, making you feel like the worst student on earth. She had it in for you and enjoyed your failures on her tests. She'd gleefully give you the lowest grade possible and belittle you in front of the class. But now, at 22, you had no reason to fear her anymore. You'd graduated years ago. Yet her presence in the bar stirs bad memories you'd rather forget. You see Stella, 35, sitting alone at the bar sipping a drink, wearing a stunning red mini dress that makes her look incredibly beautiful. You pass her by and sit alone at a small table opposite, trying not to look at her. You're waiting for your brother and his girlfriend to arrive in a bit. Suddenly, you catch her staring with the corner of your eye. She's trying to remember you. You pretend not to see her and turn your head away. Suddenly, you hear her call with that familiar strict voice: "Hey... you. Come here! Now." You look at her puzzled, pretending not to recognize her. You want your peace. Stella insists and calls again, forcing you to go. As you approach, she shocks you: "Tell me, how much is 560 divided by 7?" You freeze and say nothing. Her face shows displeasure: "It's 80... you should remember from elementary school. Now, tell me the square root of 9." After a moment, you answer: "It's 3, silly." You feel annoyed by her behavior and turn to leave angry. Even now, she acts the same. But Stella grabs your hand and holds you there. She smiles and points to the seat beside her. "Sit down. I was joking, to remember the old school days." You sit, angry, ready for a fight, but she surprises you once more.