Page 2 of Classroom Confessions

Woof. This man was not going to take it easy on any of us. Curious, I flipped my notebook closed and retrieved a blank one from my bag, along with my laptop. I loved the simplicity of handwritten notes, but when Professor Halstead clicked a button and a projector screen filled up an entire wall with the proposed reading list for this one class, I knew better than to risk leaving it all to my puny penmanship. I’d leave that for my midnight muses when I dreamed of becoming a famous romance author.

Famous might be stretching my abilities, but with the writing degree under my belt, I just knew I could finally finish the manuscript I’d been working on and break into the writing industry. All I needed was the clout of a degree and the willpower to finish my book.

Lily called me idealistic. But she was my best friend, and it was part of her job to keep me motivated to write.

Professor Halstead’s voice rang out with a whiskeyed depth that burned even as it beckoned me for one more shot. His words washed over me with such swift potency that I barely managed to turn on my dictation app to record his lecture before I sank into the oblivion of a daydream where Ethan and I starred as the leading couple.

A sharp clap knocked me out of my reverie and startled me upright. My elbow skipped off the desk, and my chin cracked the firm surface when it fell from my open palm.

“Class is over.” Professor Halstead stood over me, his face a mask of indifference. Hands slipped into his pockets, and my eyes followed the movement to his crotch… which I found at a perturbing eye level. He cleared his throat and moved down the steps, walking backward without breaking stride. “If I’ve put you to sleep in our first class, you should reconsider your major.”

“Oh, no.” I leaped to my feet and swept my laptop, notebook, and pen into my bag. “I can’t do that. And I wasn’t sleeping. Not really. It was your voice, you see. I?—”

“No excuses. Stay awake or don’t bother showing up.” Cold. Calculated. He reached the bottom step and finally turned around, giving me a view of his ass. And what an ass.

Stop it. I’d smack my cheeks and tell myself to knock it off if it would help, but that would only prove to the professor that I didn’t belong.

There was just one thing to do. Prove to Mr. Grumpy Pants that I did belong, and that I’d ace his class.

“Have a good day, Professor.” I gave him my smile and lifted my chin on the way out the door, pretending I had every right to toss my hair and sashay away. Once outside the building, I stopped and wilted. Where to next? I checked the schedule I’d downloaded on my phone and compared it to the campus map. Professor Cole Taylor, Statistics.

Shoot me now. I hated numbers with the fiery passion of seven suns. Why in the world did I need statistics for a degree in writing? I stuck my tongue out at my phone and made my way across the quad. Students lingered in the shade where a dozen or so trees created a nice pocket of peace. Picnic tables were arranged in a haphazard way, and I realized why when one dude grabbed a whole table and dragged it over to another so he could sit with the group already gathered around the first table.

Professor Taylor’s class proved to be even more difficult to pay attention to, and not because he was also drop-dead gorgeous but because numbers made my head ache.

Professor Cole Taylor had a calm and controlled manner, but unlike Professor Halstead, he smiled. With his graying temples and smooth jawline, he reminded me of a movie star. Any minute now, the cameras would roll in, some producer would shout “action”, and we’d be on our way. Another daydream threatened. I scratched out the rough idea for another plot line in my notebook, then doodled around the edges.

“You’ll need to read the first three chapters by tomorrow. There will be a quiz.” Professor Taylor held up his hands when the entire class groaned. “I’m joking. Read chapters one and two. Be ready to discuss.”

Books slammed shut. Unlike most of our classes, this one had an honest to goodness hardback textbook that weighed a freaking ton. I dropped it into my bag and shouldered the load, grateful to have made it through my first day of classes unscathed. Well… mostly.

Professor Halstead’s voice rang in my ear all the way to my car, then during the drive to Cafe Latte, the coffee shop where I worked part-time.

I dragged my bag in with me. “Hey, Lily, if things are slow tonight, I need to study.”

Lily looked up from the espresso machine, gave me a once-over, and winced. “That bad?”

“Worse.” I settled on a stool and crossed my arms on the counter, resting my chin on my forearms. “I’m pretty sure all my professors are either part of some movie franchise or older than the campus.”

She finished the coffee order and handed it to the man waiting at the register. Cafe Latte wasn’t what anyone would call high-class, but they served excellent coffee and the place was clean and quiet. A total of four people sat at the tables that lined the front window.

The man thanked Lily and dropped a tip in the jar on his way out the door.

Lily leaned over the counter, resting her weight on her elbows. She stood slightly taller than me, thinner, with this wild, curly hair that I loved and had tried for years to mimic. Her eyebrows waggled up and down. “Hotties, huh? Tell me about it.” She wiped the counter with an imaginary towel, then mimed slinging it over her shoulder. “Need a drink to get you through your troubles?”

“Shut up.” I pushed to my feet and tossed my book bag in the corner booth where we always left our stuff. No one ever bothered it, and if I did get a chance to study, it would be there. I tied on my apron, huffing when I struggled to get the strings together.

Somehow, I had to get my shit together and go back to class tomorrow. How was I supposed to pay attention to my classes when I had professors like Ethan and Cole distracting me all the time? Their lectures were torture to my brain and my hormones.

2

REBECCA

“I’d like you to take the following story into consideration.” Professor Halstead pressed the button on the laser and pointed it at the wall, circling it around Romeo and Juliet.

I groaned low in the back of my throat. Seriously? This was what we were going to study? My pencil rolled back and forth across the desk under the friction from my palm. I risked a glance at the clock. Ten minutes left in class. Then I’d go see Professor Hottie Cole Taylor. My body reacted to nothing more than the hint of his name.

Students all around me scribbled or typed notes, their pace frantic. The sound of all those keys and pencil leads on paper created the kind of background noise I fell asleep to each and every night.

---