Page 2 of The Swap Masquerade

I couldn’t see much at first because he was bent down, rifling through his satchel, but then he straightened, and it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He turned a bright smile on all of us and I felt like I’d been sucker punched. Holy shit! The girls hadn’t been exaggerating at all.

Dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a white dress shirt with the top button undone, Professor Holt was easily one of the best-looking men I’d ever seen. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing beautifully toned arms with a dusting of jet-black hair on them that matched the short strands on top of his head. From where I sat, I couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes, but I thought they might be blue or possibly gray. He was probably a couple of inches shorter than me, his shoulders not quite as broad, but he was definitely in great shape. I nearly bit my tongue when he turned and began writing on the dry-erase board, giving me and everyone else in the room a perfect view of his ass. I swallowed hard.

“Dude, you all right?”

I jumped at the sound of Brett’s whispered voice, tearing my eyes away from our teacher to look at him. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Just wondering what all the hype was about.”

Brett looked back at Professor Holt with a sneer. “I don’t get it either. He’s not all that good-looking.”

“Are you blind? He’s sexy as hell,” Kelly whispered, giving voice to my thoughts.

Brett’s face turned red as he slumped back in his chair. Jealousy was not a good look on him. “Whatever. The guy looks gay anyway. Am I right, Stoner?” I gave a noncommittal grunt, hating myself for even doing that much. He and his girl of the day continued whispering back and forth, but I tuned them out, my jaw clenched tightly.

After years spent in locker rooms and on buses surrounded by a bunch of guys, I was used to hearing all the slurs. The word fag was tossed around at least ten times a day, the term gay used as an insult against others. I’d learned to ignore the majority of their jabs, knowing that most of my friends weren’t truly homophobic, just young and stupid. But occasionally, I got pulled into it unwillingly and had to choose between siding with them or arguing and possibly outing myself.

It always left a sour taste in my mouth whenever I was forced to agree but coming out wasn’t an option. Not yet anyway. Not when I was so close to the end. I’d made it twenty-two years without anyone knowing my secret and I intended to keep it that way until I finished my last season of baseball. All I wanted was to make it to graduation with as little drama as possible. But that seemed to be getting harder and harder with each passing day.

I moved my attention back to the front of the room as the professor finished writing on the board and turned to face the class. “Welcome, everyone. I’m Professor Holt and this is Humanities 304: A Retrospect of Societal Interactions. If any of you have found yourself in the wrong class, I’ll give you a moment to gather your things and make a quick exit. Don’t worry, we won’t make fun of you until after you’ve left the room.” Laughter rippled around the room and whatever tension I’d been feeling quickly faded away.

Satisfied when no one stood up, he continued. “Good. We have a lot of important material to cover and only a short amount of time to do it, so let’s get started. I trust you’ve all looked over the syllabus online, but in case you haven’t, I’ll give you a quick rundown. My office hours and work number are on there. I want you to get the most out of this class so if you run into any trouble or have questions, use those. Set up an appointment or you can drop by during the hours listed and we’ll talk about whatever the issue is. Okay?”

Everyone around me nodded their heads in response. I had to hand it to him, the guy was definitely good at drawing people in. He was nothing like most of our other college professors who came across as way too serious and unapproachable. Instead, his easy-going nature and friendly attitude made it impossible not to like him. I could see why so many people had wanted to take his class, and it wasn’t only for the chance to stare at him for a few hours each week. Although, I could certainly understand why they would want to. He was seriously hot.

Professor Holt sat on the edge of his desk and looked out over us. “Tell me what you think of when you hear the term humanities.” Someone in the front row raised their hand, but he waved it off. “No need to be so formal here. If you have an answer, just shout it out. I like to keep an open dialogue in my classes. It’s the only way we’ll truly be able to share our ideas with others. My only rule is that we discuss them in a respectful and meaningful way.”

He nodded to the student who’d raised his hand. “The study of humans?”

“Yes, but what specifically about humans? It’s more than basic anatomy, after all.”

“Different religions,” someone else offered.

“Good. What else?”

“Philosophies,” another person said. More answers were shared but I barely heard them, enraptured by the long column of the professor’s throat and the movement of his Adam’s apple whenever he swallowed.

“Excuse me, but you’ve agreed with each of our answers. So, which one’s right?”

Professor Holt smiled at the girl who’d asked. “That’s easy. All of them.” He stood and began making his way up the aisle closest to me, talking as he climbed each step. “Humanities covers a wide range of subjects, all dealing with human society and culture. Everything from history to religion, literature, and art. They all work together to form who we are as individuals and a society.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, awareness settling over me as he stopped right beside me. I looked up at him and froze. If possible, he was even better looking up close, close enough for me to catch a hint of his aftershave. The scent made my head spin and heat coiled down low.

“This course will take a look at all of these things, but with a focus on our history and how it has shaped us as a society. More specifically, how we can learn from our past mistakes in order to improve our society, both now and in the future.” He glanced down at me and my breath caught as I suddenly found myself the sole focus of his attention. Then he grinned and I felt it all the way down to my toes. I gripped my pen so tightly, I was surprised I didn’t snap it in half as I tried to mask the visceral response I was having to this man, my professor.

Finally, he moved on, continuing up the aisle and across the top of the room and slowly making his way back down on the other side. I glanced around, hoping no one had noticed my reaction, but they were all following Professor Holt’s movements. I stared down at the blank notebook in front of me, trying to slow my racing heart. I wasn’t usually so careless when it came to checking out other guys. Of course, the professor wasn’t some random guy. He was a man, all man, and he was…my teacher. Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?

Waiting another three months suddenly seemed like an impossible feat. Maybe I just needed to go ahead and get laid. But how? I lived in a small, conservative college community. Where was I supposed to meet someone who wouldn’t recognize me or tell anyone? It was the same problem I’d had throughout high school. While all my friends had been going out on dates and having sex with girls, I’d spent most of my time at home.

At first, when they began questioning my lack of interest, I’d used the excuse that I needed to study more if I didn’t want to get in trouble with our coach. However, that only worked during baseball season so eventually, I’d made up a fake girlfriend, telling everyone we’d met while I was on vacation and we’d agreed to a long-distance relationship. I hated lying to them, but it had worked, and I was relieved when they, eventually quit asking me.

After all these years though, I was so fucking tired of being alone. And not because I wanted to have sex. Although, I definitely wanted that too. After all, my right hand and porn could only take a guy so far. But even more than that, I wanted to experience all the things I had heard about; the thrill of seeing that special person, the rush of a first kiss, connecting with another person in a way that went beyond mere friendship. I wanted to fall in love with someone and know what it was like to have them love me back. Of course, none of that was going to happen if I spent all my time lusting after my hot professor.

I shook my head, turning my attention back to what he was saying. “I’ve put together a list of area organizations that are always in need of extra hands. At the back of the room, there are descriptions of each organization and what work they do in our community. Look them over and sign up for the one you’d like to contribute to. As part of your grade, you’ll be expected to volunteer a minimum of twenty hours at the organization of your choice and write a paper about it which I will go into more detail about later.”

A few people groaned but instead of getting upset, Professor Holt chuckled. “I know, I’m asking you to give up some of your free time, but trust me, the impact you’ll make on our community will be huge. That’s what life is all about. We have an obligation to try and make the world a better place, not only for ourselves, but for future generations and it all starts within our own communities.”

Brett nudged me. “I swear, if this guy starts singing Kumbaya, I’m going to hurl.” He laughed at his own joke, but I ignored him as Professor Holt continued.

“I chose a variety of places so there’s bound to be something that will grab your interest. I personally volunteer a couple of Saturdays a month at our local Habitat for Humanity. I’ve helped build over ten houses so far and I get the added bonus of staying in shape,” he joked. Yes, you’ve certainly done that.

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