Romans & histoires La Profesora De Historia

"Okay class have fun with Mr. Zandoval and with your history class, thank you again sir for the time." "No problem, sir." Says our professor "Okay class, fun is over, please get your textbooks and turn them to page 132." "Awwww" everyone reacted inside the room. Where's the fun in that? "Don't expect me to go easy on each one of you, especially you Mr. Zandoval. We go for quality education here and not hierarchy, no offense towards your family. But I doubt that your family is like that." Why does our professor say that with a straight face? He is cool sometimes, literally making my nose bleed. History professors are scary.

His deep voice reverberated and they sounded sincere enough. But something hold Maya that this man was not sorry at all. "My name is Doctor Alexander Grey but you can call me Professor Grey." He pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose, looking at each student in turn. "We only have a few minutes before this class will be over so I'll try and rush things."

The second day of school was nothing like I had imagined, nosey teachers, rude students and to top it all off, the mysterious Groovehood senior who I hadn't seen all morning. "Earth to Debby," Mrs. Grassroots, our history professor flicked her fingers. "I'm so sorry," I replied hastily. "Care to share with the class?" She teased. I blushed red in return and answered her question with a smile. "So, you weren't in the last class, right?" She asked, pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose.

I ruthlessly refused him and forcefully shook off his hand before running off without looking back. What a joke! Who would want to talk to a scumbag? Who had time for that? I hadn't even caught my breath after reaching the classroom and finding my seat when the bell rang. I was almost late for class. This was the History of Western Art class. Professor King, who was dressed in a neat and tidy manner, was talking eloquently in front of the class. The usually dry theoretical knowledge, through his rendering, turned into interesting stories. They made people want to delve deeper into them.

Just clasped her hands on her desk and looked at me with that unreadable expression professors seemed to have mastered. “It was unprofessional,” I continued. “And inappropriate. I let someone get to me, and I let it affect your class. That won’t happen again.” She raised one perfectly arched brow. “Someone?” “Hayden Michaels,” I admitted. “And what exactly did Mr. Michaels do to warrant such a reaction?” she asked. I hesitated. “It’s… complicated. We have history. High school history.” Her lips twitched like she might’ve smiled. “Miss Maine, I’ve been teaching long enough to know that students arrive with baggage. Personal history, rivalries, and drama. But I’m not here to sort through your

The class fell silent, respecting her presence. “Good afternoon, everyone,” her voice resonated through the room. “I have an announcement to make... Apparently, Mr. Chris resigned yesterday—” “Does that mean we won’t have History?” One of the girls in the class interjected.“No," the vice chancellor shot a warning look at the girl, her voice firm. "You have a new professor to guide you in that course.” “Let’s welcome Professor Ste-phen, if we must, please.” Jaws dropped, eyes widened as shock and disbelief swept across the room at the tall, imposing figure who stepped in.

’ Layla sat up straight and pulled out her note and pen, not wanting to give the professor any reason to attack her, which she was sure she would be looking for. The class hushed in a few seconds, and all eyes were on professor Terra. “Good morning, class. I’m Professor Terra Geode, and I’ll be teaching you history this academic year. As custom at Nox-Luminis Academy, this week and next week will be dedicated to teaching you first years a very important topic that has affected our world for centuries.” She clapped her hands, and a large white screen in front of the class lit up. ‘Oh no. Not today.’ Layla winced, shrinking into her seat as some familiar words appeared on the screen.

"I'm your history teacher. You're going to read about wolves in my class." "Professor, why don't you tell us how the Queen died?" Grace eyes shot to me. They were full of promises to make my day bad. I gulped. I wanted to hear this, to know this for a long time. She didn't know but she was doing me a favor to me. "Or why don't you tell her looking like her isn't going to save her as*." Someone shouted from the class.

"Calculus and history." "Who do you have for history? That's my last class of the day as well." I pulled the paper schedule from the front pocket of my backpack. "Mr. Henry." His last name was the same as my grandfathers. I hoped he was as nice. "Awesome." Cam clapped his hands. "We have the same class. The teacher is great too. He makes history seem less like a snooze-fest and more like a time that was actually interesting." "Hey pretty-boy, what are you doing at our table?"

A knowing glint crosses in his eyes as he says in a sexy baritone voice to the class. “I’m Professor Logan Pierce. Your new history teacher!” “Omigod!” the words echo in my ears but it takes me a while to realize I’m one that saying it. The stranger from last night is my…professor? Hell, I’m doomed! TBC.