Page 4 of Bad Professor

I nod, not pulling my attention from the large screen across the room where the Cincinnati Reds are playing the LA Dodgers. One of our best friends, Nick Klaussen, is the catcher for the Reds. Max and I like to watch his games here at Ye Olde Sports Bar.

I believe his girlfriend owns the place. I love Cady to bits, but she’s got to come up with better names.

Max is the son of a billionaire, dating another billionaire, and yet I buy the pitcher of beer and a platter of wings and things we’re sharing.

Not that I mind buying a round or three for my friends. I may not be a billionaire, but I make good money as a professor teaching English at City University.

Another place that needs a better name.

“You good for this year?” Max continues. I feel his questioning gaze and turn to look at him. “No… issues?”

The issues Max is referring to have nothing to do with the subject I’m teaching or my methods of teaching it. The issues he’s referring to is the fact that I’m an English teacher and most of my students are female.

Smart, attractive and eager females.

“No problems this year,” I assure Max, trying to feel as confident as I sound. “I’ve got this Taylor Swift course I’m teaching for the semester, but the other is—”

“You’re teaching a course on Taylor Swift? I thought you were an English teacher. Writing and books and stuff. Not a pop star more famous for who she dates than anyone else.”

I’ll leave it to his girlfriend Cady to sort out Max’s opinions on certain things. She would be much more effective than I could be.

“I know you’re not that big of a fan, but she’s really quite impressive. Very talented. We’re going to be discussing her songwriting abilities,” I explain.

“I guess she must be okay, seeing as she’s got university courses created about her. You’ll have to be careful, though, Dex. Lots of pretty young things in that one.” Max raises his eyebrows, waiting for reassurance that I can handle things.

“Young,” I repeat. “It’s a first-year course and I’m definitely too old these days to catch the eye of eighteen-year-olds. And they are definitely too young for me.”

I hope.

Hopefully, no one will catch my eye, or sit in the front row with a short skirt and no panties. I’m looking forward to another year of smooth sailing without getting mixed up with any pretty coeds.

I’ve started playing basketball with the Dean of the English department and I wouldn’t want to do anything to break up the team. Not to mention, I really like my job.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Max says in a lazy voice. “Finding a pretty young thing who thinks the world of you…” He gives a leering smile.

“Does Cady know how you feel about that?”

The smile vanishes. “I’m kidding.” And I know he is. Max might have had a fully indulged childhood, but he quickly figured out the important things in life, no thanks to his father. He’s a good guy, one of the best.

“I know you don’t, because your girlfriend would bust your balls if she heard you say anything like that.” I laugh.

“Yeah. She would.” He grins. “And you know,” he lowers his voice. “That kind of turns me on that she can do that.”

I make a face. “I didn’t need to know that, but thanks for sharing.” It’s one thing to be happy that your friend is hopelessly in love, but it’s another to have to listen to details. “Cady does think the world of you, you know,” I concede.

“She does, but not as much as she thinks of you. I think you’re her favourite person.” He punctuates this with a mouthful of beer.

I roll my eyes. “I have no idea why.”

I’ve never had a good track record with women. While I can get my share of dates and hook-ups, I’d rather wait for something more serious. But you have to go on the dates to find someone serious, and during the school year, it’s hard to find time or energy to bother.

“The ladies love you, bro. Which you need to remember… and stay away from your students.” He knocks me on the shoulder for emphasis.

“Believe me, I know.” I take a deep breath as I lift my pint glass. I never told Max how close I came to losing my job because of my extra-curricular activities with my students.

I take a mouthful of beer and repeat my vow to stay away from the girls in my class. Women. When you hit thirty, you should start referring to them as women.

“He’s up,” Max points out and I turn back to the television to watch Nick step up to the plate.

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