Page 1 of Forbidden Professor

1

Easton

The office was empty as I entered, too quiet for my taste, but it’s a Thursday, and most employees like to get out of here early. Not me. Routinely, my ass was in my chair or in the lab by eight o’clock every day and rarely did I get home before nine o’clock at night. This was personal, and I couldn’t handle it if anything went wrong on my watch. The trials started and have been going well so far. My grandma might not have won her battle, but with this possible cure, I could save so many lives. Prevent other families from losing their loved ones from the awful disease.

Time constraints left no room for anything else. My life was very strict, and it made me a successful scientist. The steam from the hot coffee rose as I sat it on my desk and removed my jacket. I still had at least a couple of hours left before I could call it a day.

Back in my college days, between taking extra classes and tutoring for tuition money, coffee became a necessity in my life. Even now, I was an avid drinker of three to four cups a day. Others drink after work, but I’ve never been an alcohol lover. Guess that’s why I never went to any parties in college. In fact, my roommate used to mock me for doing nothing. His words were college was a time to branch out and have fun, but he didn’t know a thing about my life.

I was the first person in my family to graduate from college and I had to work my ass off to do so without a crippling amount of student debt. It was not a completely pleasant experience and there were difficulties along the way. I want to clarify that my admission was not facilitated by any financial support from my family. My high school transcripts and entrance essay had to speak for themselves. High school for most kids was fun, but it was nothing but stressful for me. Every single thing I did was under a microscope. I couldn’t have too many volunteering hours and always entering new clubs to broaden my interests on paper. I was going from sunup to sundown every day. So, even in my adult life, it’s the same. I’m used to it.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?” Michael asked. “Let’s go get a drink and leave this day behind us. It’s been a nonstop shitshow.”

He was always trying to get me to go out with him after work, but the answer was always the same. “I’m good. Still have reports to go over before I can leave. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, okay. One day, you’re going to say yes. You need to get a life, dude. This can’t be your everything.”

My hand rubbed the back of my neck. “You don’t know shit about my life. I’m doing just fine. This project is important to me and I need to stay on top of it.”

Michael groaned a bit. “My project isn’t any less important to me, but at some point, you’re gonna have to learn to balance work and personal. And from what I can tell, I’ve never seen you even smile.”

Why did it matter what I did in my personal life to him? Staying guarded was a natural inclination for me. My whole life had always been about this result. Now that I was here and doing what I aspired to do, I couldn’t let anything get in the way. “Fuck! You need to chill. I don’t need you in my business. Go grab your drink. Seriously, I need to go through these reports.”

Michael flicked his wrist toward me. “Whatever.”

He was the closest thing I had to a friend. Sure, we didn’t ever hangout outside of work, but he had invited me more times than I could count. Although I appreciate his concern, I don't have any plans to get drunk tonight. I grabbed the manilla folders on my desk and opened the first one.

The papers inside showed the progression of the medicine during the trials. We had a clinical trial going on for a potential cure for Parkinson’s. We were up to seventy percent having a reduction in symptoms. It had taken me ten years to get to this point, so many tests, but this was the first time I had gotten as far as being approved to run the clinical trials.

Nothing could go wrong. This had to work!

2

Isla

My boots clicked on the asphalt as I rushed to the coffee shop before my next class started. As I rounded the corner, the line was all the way out of the shop. Damnit! I should have thought about that. Students drink coffee like water with finals so close. I would have been smarter to stop somewhere else. Oh well! I took my place in line and pulled out my agenda book. Class wouldn’t be too crazy today since it was a test day, and the coffee was necessary to keep me awake while the room was silent.

“Hey Professor!”

Amy, one of my students was a little farther in line than me, and was waving at me. I have had the pleasure of having her in three classes over the years and she was a phenomenal student.

“Long line, today. We might all be late to class,” I said.

She laughed and then offered to grab my coffee for me and bring it to class.

“That’s sweet of you, thanks. I’m sure there are students already waiting for the door to be unlocked. You know how some students are, they want to get that extra few minutes of studying in before the test.”

Amy smiled. “I’ve been studying all week, ma’am. Five more minutes of studying won’t make a difference for me. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I head back to the building where the classroom was and don’t feel the need to rush. My phone showed I still had ample time to get to the room. Some professors don’t open their room until five minutes before class, but I tend to be good at reading my students. Those extra fifteen minutes before a big test built up their confidence just a little bit more and I believe it has improved their grades in the long run.

Contrary to popular belief, professors had to maintain a certain percentage of students that pass the class. However, I didn’t want any of my students to fail. To help remedy this situation, I provided study guides for every test that would increase their success. I could lead a student to a good grade but that doesn’t mean they would take it. Every semester there were students who refused to study and end up not passing. One thing I could say was my passing percentage was pretty high, and I was determined to keep it that way.

“Sorry about that guys. Long line at the coffee shop,” I said, pulling out my key and unlocking the door and letting them slip inside before me. “I’m going to give you guys the first fifteen minutes of class time to get some extra time in studying. After the length of that line, some students are bound to be late today anyway.”

I marched to the front of the classroom and sat my bag down on the desk, pulling out the tests that were prepared for today. My TA called in sick, so that meant grading them was all up to me. Sometimes I missed the late nights of grading papers with a glass of wine and a fire going. It looked like tonight would be one of those nights.

My cell phone rang, but I didn’t recognize the number so I let it go to voicemail, choosing to focus on the classroom instead. If it was important, they would leave a voicemail. All these side jobs had been padding my account for retirement. Too many people get to their sixties and retire and struggle to afford their prescriptions, so since I started working, it had always been on my mind. After fifty plus years of working, when I retired, the dream was to be able to travel and enjoy the life I had left without worry. Although, this was probably most retirees dreams. Hopefully with all the work I had been doing, it would be enough.

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