There is a recurring figure of this teacher, (I don’t know if he really existed, it could just be my imaginary creation) when I think back of my junior-high years. The teacher, not particularly good looking, taught us science. Always wearing the white coat, smelling of coffee and cigarettes. I hated coffee and cigarettes. The smell of them seemed to represent all the adults who I despised when I was 13 or 14.
I never liked coffee or cigarettes. Nevertheless, he was attractive. I didn’t mind him being close to me. It wasn’t like I was having crush on him, it was more like a simple admiration a bit distorted, and mixed with something else, perhaps an obscure coming-of-age sexual fantasy. He smelled like one of them but he seemed different. Maybe it was that coat he wore. So I bought a white lab coat, wore it, walked around in my bedroom, and smoked a cigarette, drunk a cup of coffee. I liked neither of them still.