Page 38 of Bad Professor

After the class, she’s the first one out of the door.

20

Tilly

Dexter is everywhere.

I knew he was teaching the Taylor Swift course because I checked every single one of my classes. There he was: D. Maclean.

It made me angry.

I had been debating dropping the fantasy course, and now he’s here too?

I enrolled in university last year because Juliet suggested it. After Carlos left me—technically, he didn’t leave me, more like pushed me out of his life since he kept the house and the majority of the time with the girls.

He’s the one who cheated, and yet he’s still living in our comfortable home, the one I spent so many years decorating and tending to the gardens. Making it a home.

Therapy helped with the bitterness, but it’s not all gone.

After it was clear Carlos had a life to move on with, I was lost. Floundering like a duck without a mother to follow. I was hurt and angry; betrayed. I was sad, and I missed my girls most of all.

Juliet got me into therapy and suggested I do something for myself. I’ve always wanted to study English; I have a business degree which got me in the door at the BOMB Bros. gaming company, but somehow, I was able to slide over to the creative side, which made me much happier.

Carlos insisted I quit working when the girls came, and after they started school, I began to take on a few writing jobs on a contract basis; I worked on story design on a few video games and helped ghostwrite a few novels.

I’d like to write my own book but I’m not there yet.

When I mentioned to Carlos that I’d like to go back to school, summoning my courage to ask if would he help me pay for it, Carlos agreed. He probably felt too guilty to refuse. I work part-time during the week—I’ve got a contract to design characters for a new game—but that wouldn’t be enough for my living expenses and tuition.

It was good of Carlos to help me out—no; it wasn’t. He felt obligated to help me out since he’s the one who cheated—but it keeps me dependent on him. Carlos sees all the tuition bills. If I drop a course, he’ll want to know why. I could give him a reason, but I’ve never been a good liar.

There’s no way I could have kept a three-year affair secret like he did.

And while in theory, Carlos has no say in my personal life or even should have an opinion if I want to sleep with anyone, professor or not, the reality is different. I’ve allowed him visitation into my life and to shut him out now would raise suspicions.

It also might be impossible to do so.

He would talk to the girls and I’m afraid of what he would say. Living with them full time during the week gives him a much bigger influence over them than he’s ever had before. As someone who has lived with Carlos’s considerable influence, I don’t want to give him ammunition. If he knew I’d had an intimate relationship with my professor, and a younger man, what would he say?

There’s a little voice inside me that says. “Who cares?” but that voice isn’t ready to get loud yet. To make the noise that she deserves.

Carlos is a big reason that I don’t drop the fantasy course—or the Taylor Swift class once I find out Dexter teaches that one as well—but it’s not the only one. I want to take the classes. This is something for me, something that I want for myself. And I’m not letting a man take that away from me. I’ve let Carlos take enough.

And so, I stay enrolled in both. I sit through the next fantasy class without saying a word. I take notes. I listen. I laugh.

Dexter is an amazing lecturer.

It’s tortuous, listening to him talk about the influence Tolkien had on the fantasy genre. He points out aspects of Taylor Swift's lyrics that I’ve never noticed before. He could talk about the dictionary and I’d have a hard time not staring because watching him talk to a group of students, wearing jeans that are not fitted, nor loose, but hug his hips and thighs the way I want to be hugging, I can’t help but remember what he looked like naked.

Over me.

Under me.

How he kneeled before me and made me come with his mouth.

I’m not supposed to think about things like that, especially not in class.

I was content with my sex life with Carlos. For a long time, I couldn’t blame him for the affair because I knew I wasn’t exciting in the bedroom. And then I realized that my lackluster performance might have been because I wasn’t excited.

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