Page 11 of The Professor
What a bitch. Obviously I’m not about to get mixed up in her world of sluting it around, but still. I hope she fails Professor Kidman’s class.
I make a quick sandwich and sit down in front of the television for a while. I need something to get my mind off of everything she just said. I don’t know what surprises me more, that she sleeps around for good grades or that the professors are willing to do it.
“Hey,” Aubrey whispers.
Blinking my eyes open, I look around.
“You passed out on the couch.”
“Oh, I did?” I stretch my sore neck and look at her. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I stayed late for some training. Long day?” she asks.
“You have no idea.” I get up and stretch. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
I climb into bed and pass out as soon as I close my eyes.
* * *
On Fridays,Aubrey and I both don’t have a class until later, so I spend the morning telling her all about Bexley. She was just as blown away as me, but I had to talk her down from kicking her ass about threatening me. I’m not worried, she’s not going to do anything.
I also told her about Professor Grayson giving me those studies and she wouldn’t stop saying he wants to fuck me. Which any other time would have been funny, but now after listening to Bexley, it’s not even appealing to me. It makes me think he could be one of the professors that will sleep with a student and give her a better grade. I don’t want to think that way, but it’s hard not to when I know for a fact it’s happening with others. And let’s be honest, Professor Grayson is hot as hell. The girls are constantly coming on to him. Maybe he really does take advantage of the situation. He never appears interested, but who knows what happens when his door closes.
With this new mindset, I stay completely focused in all my classes. I’ll know for sure that when I get my degree I’ve earned it. So, after my last class, I go into the student lounge to continue reading what Professor Grayson gave me. The study group is in an hour and I want to feel confident with the material before I walk in there. I shouldn’t have signed up to begin with, but Aubrey got into my head. Now I’m determined to prove it wasn’t just so I could get closer to him, but for my education.
“Hey Emma,” Bryson says.
Bryson is a sweet guy. He’s also majoring in psychology, so we’ve had a lot of classes together. He’s had a crush on me for a long time, but I just don’t feel the same about him. Sometimes I wish I did, but you can’t force yourself to be attracted to someone. Or be unattracted to someone in the case of Professor Grayson.
I quickly hide my papers because honestly I don’t want to have to explain to him why I have them. It’s ridiculous, but I don’t want anyone thinking the professor is playing favorites, if that’s even what’s going on.
“Hey Bryson, how are you?” I ask, keeping my arms on the folder.
“Good. What are you doing?”
“Just reading over some notes. What’s going on?”
“Not much. I was seeing if you were going to the pub tonight, I mean I am, I was just wondering if I’d see you. Not that I’m looking for you, I just meant if you were there, I’d be there so maybe I’d see you,” he rambles on.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly, I’m not sure what my plans are tonight. But if we go to the pub I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
Poor guy looks so excited I feel bad. He probably thinks if I’m drunk he’d stand a chance, but even drunk I know I’m not attracted to him.
“Cool, hopefully I’ll see you later,” he says, waving as he walks away.
I get back to my reading and finish just before I need to leave to make it to study group on time. Walking into the class, I almost laugh at the amount of girls in here.
Taking a seat, I grab a pen and wait.
Professor Grayson walks into the room, closing the door behind him. You can almost hear these horny bitches sigh. Dropping his briefcase on the floor, he leans against his desk and looks around. His face is completely void of any emotion as he takes in everyone who’s here. Just as I’m about to look down at my folder his eyes catch mine and a small grin spreads across his face.
My heart beat picks up as he nods his head.
“Alright, this is how this study group is going to work. You will continue the work that was assigned in class or you may work on your paper that is due in two weeks. If you have questions, ask me that’s what I’m here for. If you are here because you think it’s going to give you extra credit, there’s the door because that’s not what this group is for. This study group is for students who truly need extra help. It’s not going to be a time to socialize or work on things for other classes. If you want to do that, we have a great library. Please don’t waste my time or yours. We could all be doing other things, so make it count being here.”
A few students ask questions and a couple even leave when they realize they won’t be getting extra credit. He tells everyone to get to work and give him a shout if they need help. I’m starting to feel a bit out of place because I’m not sure what I should be doing. I don’t want to give him a shout because, well that’s awkward, but I don’t want to just sit here either.
Right before I raise my hand, he begins to walk toward me. My damn pulse picks up and I get those stupid butterflies in my stomach. When he squats down right beside me, almost touching my leg, I nearly combust.
