Hot Night With My Professor

“Why are you late again?”Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

That was the question that the new professor asked me the moment I entered the room. Oh well, he’s not just a professor but also a curmudgeon. My patience with him has long since worn thin. He consistently berates my tardiness and absences, and he humiliates me each time I attend class, but I couldn’t care less. I will not stop this. They started this war. I will do what I want, no matter how much he humiliates me. He is unyielding in his complaints, but I won’t make any changes to myself. I am still astounded that they intend to swiftly replace Professor Sybill with a man who is not even the individual I hold in the highest regard. And the way he talked to me-look, it was obvious that he possessed a high level of arrogance. Did he think he was so good? When it comes to teaching calculus, no one is better than Professor Sybill!

I entered the class without any dust and pretended that Ismael Mondalla’s presence didn’t bother me at all. I know he’s following me with his eyes, but I won’t answer his useless question. Unless he forces me, I will answer him in a way he wouldn’t like.

“Miss Jothea Alvandra, I’m talking to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you,” I stated. I told him he wouldn’t like to mess with me.

Time passes, as it always does. It’s a mystery to me why I still attend this class.

Okay, maybe it’s simply to piss the new professor off. Considering all of this, my level of irritation with him was quite high. What right does he have to immediately accept this offer to replace the former professor? Does he not realize that the instructor he will be replacing is an excellent professor to be changed by him alone? He still gives off the impression of being a young man. What does he know compared to Professor Sybill? How did he get into Marcus University anyway? Is he really good? Well, why did he choose to teach here? Can it be someone else? And if he’s really good, why don’t I understand a single thing he teaches? A waste of time! Unworthy!

The class finished, which was undoubtedly the best thing that happened today. When Ismael saw that I was going to leave, he stopped me and preached, “Except for you, Miss Jothea Alvandra, we have to talk.”

My eyes rolled in my head. “What else do you need?”

Everyone exits the room. Leaving a good show of war.

“Would you mind closing the door?” He issued a directive to the final pupil, who was leaving. Ismael appears to be so enraged that he is very annoyed, to the point where he wants me to disappear completely.

“What is your problem?” He inquired while making an effort to maintain his composure in front of this whore. Is he seriously asking me? He wants to know my answer?

I exhaled. I do not have the time to attend to these matters. I still have lots to do. I’m going to try to locate my boyfriend again by going outside and calling him indefinitely. It’s been a couple of weeks, and he hasn’t done anything to put me at ease about what happened to us. I want to know why he disappeared. I am very worried that the board members have done something to him since they discovered our connection.

Professor Sybill is not like this. It is very unusual for him not to contact me. He always texts me. And I’m not used to him disappearing like this. And it’s insane because I have no friends and, therefore, only speak to myself. There’s nobody here for me. Why is it when I’m about to graduate that he disappears like this? How am I supposed to take this?

“What do you want, Miss Alvandra?” Ismael continued. I remembered that I was even talking to this man, the new calculus professor. He is staring right into my eyes as a wrinkle forms in the middle of his forehead. One hand was in his pocket.

“Just mind your own business,” I responded, and I meant it. He used his other hand to brush his hair while continuing to stare intently into my soul.

“I hope this is the last time you’ll be late again, Miss Alvandra.”

I cocked one eyebrow in question. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” I asked sarcastically. Is he really testing me? Not because he is a professor here; I will follow him. No! I will act however I like, and no one will be able to stop me unless Professor Sybill comes back.

“I am your professor. Shouldn’t you at least have some semblance of respect for me?”

Even though he was speaking to me, it was clear from the tone of his voice that he was attempting to regain his composure. Tsk. Let’s see how far you can go. Your genuine self is going to surface sooner or later, and when it does, Marcus University will have no choice but to eliminate you. I will not stop until I have rid myself of you.

“Why? Do you belong to the list of men I should respect?” I blurted out.

I heard him let out a long and deep breath as he sucked his teeth. Look who is going to go down in defeat tonight. “Well, your demeanor will show up in your grades,” the professor said. “I wish you the best of luck on your graduation, that is, if you belong to the list of graduates.”

I squinted. This person is really fighting me.

He started to march away from me, but I stopped him by yelling, “I don’t care if I don’t graduate, but I will make sure you disappear from this place!” He then paused, walking away from me. “Professor, I hope you enjoy the time you have left. You won’t even have time to realize it when you leave.”

He left the classroom without turning around or even looking back. I attempted to maintain my composure while brushing my hair and stomping my feet. I despise him to the core.

“I will make sure to get Ismael Mondalla dismissed from Marcus University,” I murmured to myself as I made my way to the cafeteria. He interrupted my lunch, and it annoyed me even more. His constant arrogance tests my limits.

Did he purposely ask for me to remain in the classroom to confront or threaten me with the idea that I wouldn’t be able to graduate because of how I acted toward him? Tsk. That’s his problem too. If he does not allow me to pass, he will simply make himself more miserable by doing so.

I was in the middle of getting my lunch when I realized that some of my other classmates were staring at me. I can still hear them whispering about me. Are they talking shit behind my back? What have I done? It is so unusual for my usual morning here at Marcus University to be talked about by those people because they always treat me like the wind. I didn’t know that they would add to the annoyance I felt towards the professor.

After settling in at the table, I immediately began nibbling on the pastil I ordered. But never did I imagine that someone would be coming to disgust my appetite. I was completely unprepared. I was even more depressed. What’s her problem?

My fellow student, whose name I can’t recall, asked me, “Are you flirting with our new calculus professor, Jothea?”