(By sakshi)
You know those moments when your fingers move faster than your brain? Yeah, that was me. It was just another boring Wednesday, and we had double Chemistry. And let me tell you, Chemistry classes felt more like punishment than a learning experience — especially when our Chemistry teacher started explaining concepts like atomic structures with the enthusiasm of a snail.
So there I was, sitting at the back, pretending to take notes, when in reality, I was texting my BFF. I couldn’t help it — I had to vent. I opened my phone under the desk, tilted it just enough so no one could see, and typed furiously:
“Omg she doesn’t even know how to teach 😩 I swear I’d understand more if the periodic table itself taught me.
And the way she says ‘important’ like 'impotent' 😭😭
And just to really make my point clear, I added:
“Why is she always acting like we’re dumb? Just because SHE can’t explain anything properly 😒.”
I grinned. Sassy, accurate, and very well-deserved. I hit send.
Or at least, I thought I hit send... to my best friend.
Ten seconds later, I noticed the horror.
I had sent the entire rant…
TO MY CHEMISTRY TEACHER.
I stared at the screen in shock. My stomach did that horrible twisting thing, and my fingers went numb.
No. No. No.
Please no.
I tapped on the message hoping — praying — that maybe it hadn’t gone through. Maybe the school Wi-Fi had glitched, maybe—
"Delivered."
And then came the horror of horrors.
"Read."
At that moment, my soul left my body.
I was still in class, sitting right there while she was standing just a few feet away. Did she check her phone? Did she read it while we were all busy copying the notes she gave on acids and bases?
I looked up at her. She was still writing something on the board. Her expression? Completely unreadable. But then again… maybe she always looked like that?
I leaned closer to my BFF and whispered, “I sent it… to her.”
. My BFF's reply "Wait, you sent that WHERE?"
“To HER,” I hissed. “The chem teacher! I texted HER!”
Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing or screaming — I couldn’t tell which.
“What did you send?” she asked, clearly both scared and way too entertained.
I told her. A full on rant . Insult. And that too being confident in it.God...can it get worse!?
She went pale.
The bell rang.
Normally, I’d be the first one rushing out, but that day, I just sat frozen in my seat.
“Sakshi, stay back for a moment,” the Chemistry teacher said.
Oh. My. God.
I froze.
I am done for.
She. Will .end.my .everything.
This was it. I was going to be expelled. Or worse… called in front of the principal. My parents would find out. I'd be that girl — the one who disrespected a teacher over text. My entire school life would be ruined over one stupid message.
The classroom emptied slowly. My best friend gave me the most dramatic farewell look ever and mouthed, "RIP."
I look at her go..with a glare .
I stood up and walked toward the teacher’s desk, my heart thumping so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
She looked up at me with a very calm face. Too calm.
“I got your message,” she said, not even pretending otherwise.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out.
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I know how to teach?”
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered. “It was meant for someone else. I didn’t mean to send it to you. It was just—I was frustrated, and I know it was really disrespectful, but—”
She held up her hand to stop me.
“I’m not angry, Sakshi,” she said, and for a second I didn’t believe her. “I’ve been a teacher long enough to know when a student is struggling. But what hurt was not the insult — it was that you didn’t come to me if you weren’t understanding the topic.”
That hit hard.
She wasn’t yelling. She wasn’t humiliating me.
She was just… disappointed.
“I’m really sorry,” I said again, softer this time. “I guess I was just scared you’d think I’m dumb if I asked too many questions.”
There was a pause.
Then she said something that completely shifted everything.
“Everyone learns differently. If you don’t get it the first time, that’s okay. But I can’t help you unless you let me.”
She didn’t scold me. She didn’t report me.
Instead, she gave me a chance.
“Next class, come early,” she said. “We’ll go through the topic together.”
I nodded, still stunned by how kind she was being after what I did.
As I walked out of the classroom, I felt like I’d dodged the biggest bullet of my life — but I’d also learned something much bigger.
Later that night, I messaged my best friend again.
“Chem teacher’s not so bad after all…”
And this time, I double-checked the recipient.
React
