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Chapter 12: Class
publish date:
2026-06-19 03:00:58
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My professor, my stalker Chapter 15: Come here
My lips part as I tilt my head back, watching the sky. Snow. Thousands of delicate white flakes drift lazily through the air, swirling down from the grey clouds above the city. For a moment I simply stare, trying to understand what I’m seeing. It’s the end of summer. It shouldn’t be snowing. This morning the sun was warm enough that I left the house in a light dress and boots, expecting nothing more dramatic than a cool evening breeze. Now the sky spills winter onto the streets like some strange trick of nature. But it’s beautiful. The flakes float slowly past the window, only a few centimetres from my face. They glide downward toward the small parking lot below, landing gently on the pavement and the roofs of the cars. And the moment they touch the ground, they disappear. Melted. Gone. It should ruin the moment, but somehow it doesn’t. If anything, it makes it more magical. Fleeting. Fragile. A quiet little miracle that only exists for a few seconds before dissolving into n
My professor, my stalker Chapter 14: Office
“I need to get laid,” I announce the moment I ceremoniously dump my bag onto the cafeteria table. Three heads snap up instantly. “That bad?” Delilah asks. “You mean that good?” Sam counters with a wicked smirk. I drop into my chair and toss Mr. Madden’s card onto the table like it personally offended me. Tessa slides a steaming cup of coffee toward me just in time, right before her eyes land on the card. She gasps loudly. “What is that?!” “He gave me his card to print,” I say miserably. “And that is making you depressed… why?” Sam asks as he casually swipes the card off the table. He studies it with exaggerated focus, turning it over between his fingers before handing it to Tessa like it’s some rare artifact. “Yummy,” she whispers with sparkling eyes. I groan and drop my forehead against the table. “Because I’m making a complete fool of myself! I can’t email him, the printer doesn’t work, and when he looked at me I just stood there staring at him like some love-sick idiot.” M
My professor, my stalker Chapter 13: Stay after class
I can't focus. I try emailing the summary again. The message bounces back immediately, just like before. The error notification stares at me from the corner of my screen like it’s mocking me. I'm too scared to ask Mr. Madden if I can leave the classroom. Sam keeps whispering questions, little murmurs of conversation that float around my head, but I can’t process them. I zone him out. I glance toward the front of the classroom. Mr. Madden sits behind his desk, his long fingers resting on the keyboard of his laptop. His attention seems fixed on the screen, but the faint crease between his brows tells me something is irritating him. His pen spins slowly between his fingers, balanced with casual precision. For a moment—just a brief flicker—I swear his eyes lift. Toward me. My pulse spikes instantly. I drop my gaze to my laptop like I’ve been caught doing something illegal. When I look at the screen again, the blank document feels almost aggressive in its emptiness. Three words. Th
My professor, my stalker Chapter 12: Class
“Fuck!” My hand slams against the printer, a sharp crack echoing in the empty reception area. Why isn’t it working?! The screen flashes some cryptic error I’ve never seen before, and my card keeps getting rejected. My chest tightens, each heartbeat like a hammer against my ribs. I check my watch. Fuck! I’m late for class. Every nerve screams at me as panic coils low in my stomach, hot and insistent. I abandon the printer in frustration. No one’s at reception. Nobody to call. Nobody to yell at. Just me, spiraling. My stomach twists as the familiar, unwelcome heat of panic crawls up my spine. I’m screwed. Completely screwed. The door of the classroom is shut. My heart absolutely sinks through my body. He's going to hate me. I stop. Tilt my head back. My gaze drifts to the ceiling. A silent, desperate prayer slips out—I don’t even know if there’s a god listening—but maybe, just maybe, some force will grant me mercy. I’ll try anything at this point. With trembling hands, I gather
My professor, my stalker Chapter 11: Phone
I dream.I dream of eyes on me, of hands tracing my cheekbones, of fingers sliding along the curve of my neck. My braid is lifted, tugged gently, insistently. A presence leans close, warm and familiar.And I don't dream of just anyone. I dream of Mr. Madden. I dream it’s his eyes I see in the dark, his lips pressing a feather-light kiss to my forehead. I dream of his scent—homely, comforting, dangerous in a way that makes my chest ache.I wake with a strange, hollow sensation, like my body is partly asleep and partly aware, like I’m still suspended in the dream.All day, I feel on edge. On alert. Like someone is following me, tracing my steps. My skin prickles, my senses sharpened to every movement.Nick has been hounding Delilah all morning—appearing everywhere we go, always with Mr. Madden. Everywhere.And every time I see that moody professor in the hallway, I remember the dream. I dreamt about him. I can’t believe it.So I avoid his eyes. Not that he’s ever looking at me. He bare
My professor, my stalker Chapter 10: Home
I drive back with music blasting, but my mind isn’t on the playlist. The roads are busy, but every car around me, every rearview mirror reflection, feels loaded with meaning. Maybe it’s the fact that someone got into my locker and left my favorite wine—or maybe it’s just me—but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.Again.I glance at the rearview mirror for what must be the hundredth time. The same car is still there.It’s been behind me since I left the university parking lot. At first I barely noticed it, just another car in the line of traffic. But twenty minutes later it’s still there, keeping the same distance. Hanging back. Adjusting its speed whenever I adjust mine.My skin crawls.When I’m almost home, the car takes an abrupt left. I exhale, heart hammering. Paranoia claws at my mind.I park outside the house and switch off the engine. For a moment I don’t move. The car ticks softly as it cools, the silence settling around me like something alive.Slowly, I lean fo
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