My Dosen Novels & Stories

a deep voice responded. “You’ve got this,” she whispered with an assuring smile pulling the door open and slightly tugging me forward. I staggered almost falling on my face. He looked up at me through his glasses and damn, he looked so hot. Heat spread from my neck to my cheeks. He raised a brow making me realize I had been gawking without saying a word. “Good morning sir. I’m Isla Caldwell, one of your students and I’m here to submit my scholarship application,” I muttered in one breath. I wondered how I said all that without stuttering. I looked composed on the outside but on the inside, I was a quivering mess.

Isa had persistent trouble staying focused the rest of the week. She couldn't tell if she was dreading the approaching Friday... or anticipating it. The size of the class dwindled significantly. Readings were lengthy, assignments rigorous, but Isa found the subject fascinating. And as intimidating as he was, Professor Ashford was a captivating and charismatic lecturer. He was extremely well-versed and knowledgeable in his field, warranting his many accolades and respect amongst peers. The week flew by, Isa almost forgetting about their post-class encounter on the first day...

The man behind me was a tall, musclear figure who looked like he was in his late twenties. He has a defined jawline and a hair that looked gloss and perfect. He was staring at me with a weird smile hanging on his face. “Hello.” I muttered, waving at him. “Hi, nice to meet you, Kirah. I am your tutor, Doxante.” My brain scrambled. I could not tell if he was joking or if he was being serious. “Doxante?” “You heard me right. I would be taking you through the course of Doxante magic throughout the year.”

I capped my beaker and gave her my attention. Dr. Dooley had become my unofficial mentor and one of my favorite professors over the past few months, mainly because she was the only professor who didn’t seem concerned that I was taking way too many classes and spending unhealthy amounts of time in various labs around campus. She taught also Advanced Biology, but she’d let me sit in on her graduate-level biochemistry seminars when I’d gotten bored with the regular coursework.

A girl could drown in those eyes and smile while she was doing it. "You know I finished my doctorate today. I did my dissertation defense last month. Your class and one in the English department were my last two hurdles before being completely done. I've applied for teaching positions all over the place but nothing has come through yet. Apparently brand new English PhDs are a dime a dozen at the moment."

He says, annoyance latched to his tone. What's his fucking problem? Tessa holds my hands and nods her head gently. I sigh and we both walk out of the door. "Why does he always keep lecturing?", I grimace. "Maybe he's a lecturer at this Academy?" Tessa replies. "Hmm. Maybe you're right." I think over it. I don't know half of the Proffesors here, except Professor Sheila. That brings me to the point… "What exactly do they teach here?" I ask.

The two of us were going down the same hallway, so I turned around and started walking. I didn't have any trouble finding Miss Daza's office. I showed up to her and she just gave me my schedule. "Welcome to Las Espadas University, Zariyah. I'm sure you'll like it here," she told me. Miss Daza is beautiful, and I think she is only in her early thirties. She seems to be kind because she always smiles when I talk to her. "Thanks, Miss D. My only problem here is that there's no elevator for students," I said, then sighed.

Taylor, my accountancy professor then why am I afraid of him like he is a Titan? Yes, he is just a human being. Claiming my mind, I turn to go inside. I look up at the room and find two teachers there. One of them is Mr. Taylor and he is typing something on his mobile screen. The other one is Mr. Orlando, as I steal a glance at him. He is also using his mobile. Oh yeah, they have nothing to do right now. I push myself to ask for permission when Mr. Taylor raises his head and nods in my direction, saying, "Come in, Ms. Dawson."

I don't really know what that means, and thinking it was a joke laughed at it. Not wanting to dawdle on that, I'm looking at my paper with my name again, looking at the information on it. Something about a Mr. Reap being my HR teacher. A Salvador Reap. It doesn't say anything about his exact course that he teaches, and I wonder exactly what it is.