Jack winked at Micah when he added the part about him helping the large man with his lesson plan. While he did mention sex in his lessons, he usually did so obliquely, not quite naming it, hiding behind metaphors and scientific descriptions. It would only single out specific students if he painted too vivid a picture. But sometimes, after class, there were students that wanted to know specifics, and Jack did his best to help them out. Not that he always knew. The supernatural texts liked to skirt around the issue, the monks and witches and scholars that wrote them never too comfortable with that aspect of life. Only after Aleister Crowley and his ilk did supernatural researchers become more... open, but most texts weren't that young.
The conversation flowed on, however, and Jack decided to let it go. He raised an eyebrow at the list Dallas rattled off. He wondered if the demon had a photographic memory. Jack had been drinking beer for over half a century, but he would be hard-pressed to name any ingredients other than hop and water.
Jack didn't correct Micah when he said he had been a student at the Academy. Jack hadn't been, knowing Ms. Menides from... different circumstances. But he was very comfortable not discussing his past. "Thank you," he said, nodding at Ms. Edouard, "but I'm sure I would've been a lot more awkward, had I been a teenager in your class." He would've been hot for teacher too, most likely. "Let me see... Young Thérèse, you were the sweet, aloof girl that drove all the boys crazy... Micah, the all-star jock... Bert, the quiet, mysterious type and Dallas... I don't know, the bad boy with a heart of gold?"