The line had been drawn - two actually - one in front of the desk - the other in my mind. One had tiny flashing neon LEDs, the others were the neurons in my brain. Both flashed: DO NOT CROSS!

I didn’t want anyone to cross my line, I had just turned sixteen and my hormones made me feel uncomfortable around anyone, except my friend Bob. And this new teacher, was a special case. She had taken Ms Higgins place. Unbeknownst to any of us was that Ms Higgins had taught for over forty-three years there at the school, and with budget cuts and lower taxes, it was decided to send her into retirement before she got one more annual raise.

We never got to say goodbye. We had gone to her house after the first day of school, but the windows were empty without curtains. The mailbox was coughing up three months of mail, and a for sale sign wobbled in the wind with the autumn leaves. Hanging by one tiny link of chain was a flap of a sign that said: SOLD.

All of us felt sold out as we went back to the same homeroom class and found a young woman standing there in a Dior blouse, a Vera Wang skirt, and Dolce&Gabanna bewitching perfume. The girls chatted about her good taste, some of them even began to imitate her graceful moves and order similar clothes online. Their classmates - the boys - had difficulty concentrating as they watched the curves of her body from top to bottom undulate in hypnotic ripples.

We couldn’t complain that she was just a pretty object, her mind was sharp, her knowledge deep, and she was also so very, very kind.

Perfect in every way. Too perfect, I sensed - but nobody else.

They had fallen under her spell.

It was that line with those words ‘DO NOT CROSS!’ that was my greatest concern. Ms Maria Lang, she said we could use her first name if we liked, avoided direct contact with any of us, and always stayed within that 3 square meters of the box indicated on the floor.

No one else seemed to care, but I did. I had always been the class clown and troublemaker. But this time, I didn’t feel funny and only wanted to provoke.

The first time I tried to cross the line, an alarm went off and Ms Lang turned in my direction with a voice gone deep, “Perimeter breaches will not be tolerated. A new county law does not allow a student body to approach faculty closer than that line.”

She pointed down to the LEDs, which were now flashing red, and drew her finger in the air to reclaim her space. I would have tried to go further, but the door immediately swung open and Principal Rotwang stood with one hand on his hip and the other hand extended in a pointed finger at me, “No approaching the staff!”

I could feel the crimson rush of embarrassment press against my ruddy pimples. “Yes sir,” I said with a lowered chin in deference.

There seemed to be no way to get close to check out who Ms Maria Lang really was. And then, as they went on their way to history, math, biology, and all other subjects, they found the same educational limits… new teachers standing behind lines around their desks.

Most didn’t care, there were other more important things like what clothes to wear and how your hair should be combed. Those weren’t any of my concerns, I had my t-shirts and jeans and short shaved hair.

I thought at first they might have exchanged our teachers with some kind of androids, but I knew that was silly, we didn’t have that kind of technology yet.

So, my only plan left was to hide before class came to an end, and then wait to see when Ms Lang left, and follow her out the door.

But there was no need to go out the door.

As the last student exited the door I saw her freeze and then there was a flash. All the lights had gone out, I could barely see through the crack in the door from the old textbook closet. I realized that the staff had been replaced with educational holograms. The county could save an unbelievable amount of cash.

Maybe the principals were given extra bonuses to keep quiet.

I slowly made my way out of the room, hoping not to activate any alarms or the Holo itself. The halls were quiet and dark, except for a hum and flicker from the Faculty Lounge.

I tip-toed and slithered in the that direction. With a smooth, quiet move I turned the knob and pulled.

And there they were, all the former teachers laid out on tilted chairs with tubes and wires running from their bodies. I realized then that the faculty body still needed the brains of humans to keep them under control.

Ms Lang was actually a perfect form of Ms Higgins. One retired, the other just starting to work.

I gasped.

Then, I gasped again as a hand came down on my shoulder.

I turned round and saw Principal Rotwang.

Then his hand was on my throat. It wasn’t warm or human fleshy. It was tight titanium strength.

As my last breath was squeezed from my throat, I realized that they did have the technology to make androids… it was just holograms were so much cheaper for most of the staff.

And then the lights went out.