روايات وقصص ضمن Find My Professor

The pile of student projects on my desk was still on the desk. Being a lecturer was far more stressful than I thought. Then, out of nowhere, Nick came to mind. He could help me with this. I didn't hesitate before picking up my phone and sending him a message. Me: Mind coming to my office? I walked to the vending machine and got myself a cup of coffee when my phone buzzed. I checked the message and stared at the message for a moment. Nick: Why? The female professor isn’t there for you anymore? I typed back without wasting time.

My body feels as if it is buzzing with electricity. He is here on campus. He is here. "Now that we got that out of the way, why don't we go over the topics on the test. Please get out your review packets," Professor Taylor says, and I follow his orders on autopilot. As Professor Taylor goes over each topic and answers questions from the other students, my eyes keep glancing towards the door. I want to see him...no, I need to see him, just once. I want to know if he is as beautiful in person as he is in his pictures.

she whispered and sighed afterwards. “By the way, did you meet by chance Prof. Castillo? I already emailed him. I’ve been trying to reach him out since yesterday I was supposed to pass my requirements, where is he?” Don’t tell me, as in? My suspicion got filled as I listen to her question. Probably our professor is in pain right now. My bad. “Confirmed! He’s experiencing a heart break!” I exclaimed.

2 XAVIER I thank whatever fucking god that all of these idiots are finally done with this class. I have taught English literature for three years now. Each year has been a different experience for me. The first year was by far the best. I was a new professor. Twenty three years old. I was so excited for my first real year teaching. I was excited to prove to the world that I didn't get the job just because my father is the dean. At the start of my first year of teaching, I was the shiny new toy. All of my students loved me, and seemed to love my teachings.

He reached over and grabbed the stack of papers. Her heart skipped a beat and she got a good whiff of his cologne. The both of them stared at each other, a form of heat expanding around them. It wasn't until the door opened that professor Thompson finally pulled away. "Well, Ms.Moore, thank you for lending a hand. I will see you next class and hopefully you're early next time." The man held out his hand and glanced at the person that stepped in. It's Mrs.Laime, she's a Spanish professor. "Oi dios mio. I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was inside." She chuckles nervously.

she wasn't going to allow it. Maya decided that she would just casually search for him and then once she learned something of interest, she'd leave him alone and pretend it never happened. She sighed deeply and stared at the wall as her hand tapped anxiously against her knee. The page finally loaded and she quickly tapped the search icon and typed his name into it. She was surprised at how many results popped up as a result and almost instantly went through them, finding nothing about the professor. After searching for a few minutes, she was about to give you when something caught her eye that caught her by surprise.

There were faint shadows beneath his eyes, a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. And for a fleeting second, she wondered if he’d been losing sleep too. She took a step inside. “Professor?” He froze. The air in the room shifted instantly. Slowly, he looked up. “Miss Sterling.” Her heart jumped. She hadn’t heard him say her name in weeks. “I just… wanted to ask if you could maybe go over my last paper. I think I misunderstood part of the assignment.” His gaze flicked toward her, brief but sharp. “I’ll leave feedback in the system. You can check it there.”

Not with anyone. I tried to shake it off, but my body wasn’t listening. By early afternoon, I gave up on pretending I wasn’t distracted and retreated to my room. I flopped onto my bed, pulling my laptop onto my lap to check the university portal. A few emails, a syllabus update, nothing earth-shattering. My cursor hovered over one tab: my English seminar schedule. Professor Dalton, Wednesday and Friday, 10 a.m. I made a face at the name. “Professor Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.

Only one thing is clear in my head; I'm finally meeting the man in my dreams and he's my professor. His name is Caden.

Marco sneered. "Let's open the official website now, and I'll show you exactly who the honorary professors are." As Marco spoke, he took out his tablet and quickly searched via the browser, receiving results in a matter of moments.