You Have an Insane Body
ABOUT A YEAR AGO
Sanctuary Spring Academy, an elementary school in the heart of San Francisco.
The classroom buzzed with soft chatter and the squeaks of pencils. Tiny heads bent over math sheets. A warm ray of sunlight filtered through the wide glass windows, bathing the room in soft gold.
Susan Stone glided between the desks, her cream blouse tucked neatly into a fitted skirt, her long chestnut hair tied in a loose ponytail that bounced gently as she moved. Her face beamed with delight as she watched her second graders, their little brows furrowed in concentration.
“Alright, my little geniuses, ten more minutes!” Her voice was soft but firm, with a playful lilt.
She passed Grace Lockwood’s desk and paused.
The seven-year-old had her cheek puffed, eyebrows squeezed together like she was facing a NASA equation. Her tiny fingers fidgeted with her pencil as she stared at two pictures of oranges on her sheet.
Susan crouched beside her with a nurturing smile.
“Are we stuck, Grace?”
Grace nodded without looking up, bottom lip pushed out in a pout.
Susan tapped the paper lightly. “It’s easy, sweetie. You were given five oranges here…” —she pointed to the left cluster— “and five more here…” —her finger moved to the right.
Grace’s eyes followed, still uncertain.
“Let’s use our fingers,” Susan said warmly, raising both hands. “See? Five fingers on my right hand, five on my left. Just like five oranges on each side.”
Grace’s little hand lifted slowly, mimicking hers.
“Now let’s count together.” Susan smiled and held up her fingers. “One…”
“One…” Grace echoed shyly.
“Two.”
“Two…”
“Three, four, five…” they counted in unison, their voices harmonizing gently with the rustling of pages around them.
“…Six, seven, eight…”
“Nine… TEN!” Grace shouted, her eyes suddenly lighting up.
Susan clapped gently. “See? It’s not hard at all.”
Grace clapped with her tiny hands, her smile stretching ear to ear. “I love you, Ms. Stone!”
Susan’s eyes softened. “I love you too, sweetheart.” She leaned in for a high-five, which Grace eagerly returned.
As Susan rose, she smoothed her skirt and turned to check on the rest of the class— but the door cracked open just then.
The silver handle turned gently, and the door eased open to reveal Principal Emily Jones, a petite woman in her mid-sixties, strands of gray threading her neat black hair. She peeked in with a wide smile on her face.
Susan straightened slightly. “Morning, Principal.”
“Morning, Ms. Stone.” Emily’s voice was low and cheerful. “He’s here. All teachers are converging in the conference room now to welcome him.”
Susan’s eyes brightened. “Okay, ma’am.” She turned back to her students. “I’ll be back soon, my darlings. Continue with your classwork while I’m away, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am!” the children sang in chorus.
“Good morning, Mrs. Jones!” several added.
Emily chuckled. “Morning, little ones!” She waved, then turned to leave.
Susan followed her out, adjusting her ID badge as they walked briskly down the quiet corridor.
Inside the large conference room, staff members were already gathered. Teachers lined the left side, non-academic staff on the right. The low hum of chatter and anticipation filled the air. Chairs scraped gently. Phones clicked.
Five minutes passed.
Susan glanced around, then leaned toward the principal. “Thought you said he was here?”
“He is,” Emily responded, eyes on her phone. “His convoy’s parked outside. Probably held up by something last minute.”
No sooner had she spoken than the door burst open.
Four sharply dressed security men entered first, dressed in black tuxedos, their faces stone-still, eyes alert. They parted, forming a pathway— and then he walked in.
Joseph Hudson.
He was a storm in white.
A flawlessly fitted white tuxedo clung to his towering 6’7" frame like second skin. Broad shoulders. Trim waist. Strong hands. Every step he took thudded with power. His jaw was clean-shaven, his cheekbones sharp, his lips curled slightly in a warm, professional smile.
But it was the eyes— icy blue, focused, commanding— that stole everything.
Susan’s breath hitched in her throat.
He stepped onto the podium, flashing a humble smile.
“Apologies for the delay,” he said, his deep voice echoing across the room. “Got a last-minute call from the President himself. Couldn’t miss it.” A light chuckle followed.
“I grew up in this neighborhood,” he continued, his voice dipping into a genuine tone. “This school, this community— they shaped me. So today, I stand before you not as gubernatorial candidate Joseph Hudson, but simply as Joseph— the boy from down the street, here to give back to the community that raised me.”
Applause rang out.
But Susan barely heard a word.
She stared.
His lips. His hands. The way he held the mic. The way his jaw moved when he spoke. The way his tux hugged every curve of his god-like body.
She was lost in him.
Her heart thumped loud.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Until—
A shoulder nudged hers.
“Susan,” Emily whispered, nudging harder. “He’s talking to you.”
“What?” Her eyes blinked back to reality.
People were smiling. Applauding. Looking at her.
Up on the stage, Joseph Hudson had turned toward her, a gentle smile spreading on his face.
“Come up here,” he said.
Susan froze. Then— Emily’s hand gave her a soft push.
She swallowed hard, cheeks flushing. She took a shaky step. Then another. One leg after the other, like they weren’t even hers. Her heels clicked loudly in her ears. Her palms were clammy.
Joseph extended his hand. She took it.
Firm. Warm. Controlled.
He leaned slightly toward the camera crew. “Smile,” he said softly. “It’s wonderful to finally meet the teacher who earned this year’s ‘Educator of the Year’ award.”
Susan blinked. Then smiled for the camera, realizing suddenly why everyone had been looking at her.
Flashbulbs exploded.
One of Joseph’s security aides brought forward a massive check.
Six figures. Lots of zeros.
She barely processed the numbers as she and Joseph each held a side of the check. Another camera flash.
Then— his voice.
Soft. Right by her ear.
“I must say,” he whispered smoothly, “you have an insane body. It’d be a crime not to notice.”
Susan’s eyes darted up in shock— caught his deep gaze.
Blue fire.
She dropped her gaze instantly, heart hammering, her lips parting slightly.
“T-thank y-you…” she stammered.
He chuckled under his breath.
Click. Flash.
The camera snapped again.
And just like that… her world shifted.