3: He's My New Professor

IMANI

I stumbled back home, the pain in my wrist worsening at first and the red mark burning brighter. It only dulled when I got closer to home and paled completely when I entered the four walls of the hell I called home.

Mom was waiting for me in the sitting room, and she shot up immediately when she saw me. Her eyes blazed daggers into my soul, even though I was used to this… Even though I should be used to this by now, I still trembled in front of her.

“And why were you late?” Her tone mirrored her expression.

“I… I was… I hung up with my new friends, and we kind of lost track of time.”

“Your new friends?” she chuckled, but there was nothing amusing about the sound as she stalked closer to me. " Haven't I made it clear that you don't need any other friends but me?”

Yeah, she made it perfectly clear by repeating it over and over, enforcing it in the way I couldn't go to sleepovers or hang out with my classmates. That was the beginning of the problems. Alienating myself from my classmates was the reason why I was seen as a prude at first, and I couldn't even prove them wrong.

Maybe it'd have been better if Mom had kept me close because she liked me, but that was far from being the reason. She doesn't like me, at least, not since I was 15, when she changed, and the sweet mother I knew became a horrid stranger who took delight in making me suffer.

And she wouldn't let me go. Her obsessive, psychotic side kept me close, kept me lonely and without friends.

“Mom, I'm a couple of months away from clocking 20,” I tried to reason with her, even though I knew it wouldn't work. “I need to have friends. I need to…”

“Oh really?” Her glare and smile were sharp enough to cut through ice, “You need to have friends. I think I've been…”

“Anything the matter?” That masculine voice interrupted us, and Mom instantly straightened. Her smile evaporated into that of a performatively sweet one, and she turned to her husband.

My stepfather. He was standing at the foot of the stairs

“Of course not, sweetheart,” her tone was pleasant and nothing like the murderous one she used with me just minutes ago.

“My daughter was just telling me about her new friends and the fun they had today,” she smiled at me, and to punctuate her statement, she threw her hands around my shoulders.

“Ohh, must be nice,” he smiled at me, “college freshman and all.”

“Yes, Declan,” I returned his smile when Mom released me and told me we'd continue our conversation in the morning. I bade them goodnight, and as I walked away, I heard them talking about setting a room for his brother to stay with us for a while. I've heard it in passing before, but never really paid attention to it, and even now, I couldn't pay attention to it. I only relaxed when I got back to my room. I locked the door after me, shrugged off my clothes, and paddled to the bathroom.

I allowed the water to cascade over my body, and whether my eyes were closed or opened, all I could see was him. His hand around my neck as he thrusts into me with a pace that could only mean to rearrange my guts and drive me insane. His soft groans, then the harsh ones when I was riding him, his eyes not leaving mine, the obscene sounds we made together, the force of my orgasm, his jerky movements when he came…

It was all too much.

I couldn't help reliving every minute of it, and it made me hungrier for more. It made me want to slip my hand in between my thighs and to soothe the ache that was spreading again, but I didn't give in to it.

I went to sleep, and the furthest thing on my mind was that classes were going to start tomorrow. Instead, my thoughts were filled with that stranger.

B morning, I was drowning in self-guilt and blame. Now that the alcohol had cleared and the night was long gone, I didn't have anything to blame my recklessness on.

I couldn't believe I did that. I couldn't believe I slept with a stranger. I didn't regret the act itself. It'd be weird if I regretted those orgasms, but I couldn't believe I slept with a stranger. I was in turmoil as I prepared for school, and by the time I slipped into my first class, I decided to force myself to let it go. I couldn't undo the fact that it happened, and since I would never see the stranger again, I just had to let it go. Forget about it altogether.

Forget about those orgasms? The way you bounced on his dick like you want to do it forever and ever?

I shut my subconscious up, brought my notebook out, and prepped myself for my first class in College. The lecturer wasn't around yet, and the class was in twos and threes, talking animatedly. I felt that familiar pang. I wanted that: a friend, a clique. I thought I found one last week during the induction week, but it turned out they made a bet on me.

And they apparently knew about my life in Zenith Prep.

Without meaning to, I looked around for them, but I couldn't find them. At the same time, the class broke into a mild commotion that made me turn to see where the whole class was looking. A bunch of girls were just entering the class, and because of the crowd in front of me, I couldn't see the girls.

Until I glimpsed them, and my heart actually dropped. Leading the clique of four was Valeria, the bane of my existence and my biggest nightmare in High School. The other three girls were the girls I went out with last night.

Now I needed no one to tell me that she orchestrated everything.

I didn't give in to the dejection that I felt. I knew she got accepted into this school, but I didn't think we'd have to do any courses together. I averted my eyes and tried to make myself as small as possible.

I watched as the whole class admired her. That was Valeria. The world would always shift to revolve around her. Every other thing would fade into nothingness whenever she was in the room.

I distracted myself with my phone, and I scrolled aimlessly through TikTok. I soon got engrossed, and I didn't notice when the class quietened down until a deep voice that commanded attention said:

“Good morning, 2025 Freshmen, welcome to ***** College. I'm Professor Stephan King, your lecturer for IHS 101: History of the unknown world.”

I looked up, and my world tilted over in the most horrible way possible. Because standing on the podium and introducing himself as the lecturer of the most important course in our 100 level was the man I hooked up with yesterday, the one I rode with reckless abandon.

My stomach churned terribly and the breakfast I ate rose to my throat.

The stranger from last night was my lecturer.