Nerd Professor Novels & Stories

he complained, whining like a kid. “Come on. You don't have to make it sound like you don't like it. We both know how much you hate it when you aren't given any task. You were constantly asking the professor for extra assignments!” I accused, laughing when I recalled that incident. John was not only the most handsome in our department, but the nerdiest. There was nothing he loved more than reading, and the lecturers loved him because of that. He was repeatedly asking for extra assignments and everything else, something that always got on my damned nerves.

Nanny paused for a few seconds and then asked, “Tell me about the professors! How are they?” I chocked on my food hearing the word ‘professor!’….. Did she know about the encounter? Or could she see on my face that I was a bit attracted to him? Nanny was like a mother and always knew….she always did …somehow! “W-What about p-professors??” I stuttered and now she was suddenly curious. “So, something happened! What is it?” She was now insistent. “Nothing much happened Nanny! He was just a good looking lecturer and he was walking so carelessly that he bumped into me and spilled coffee on my white top! Clumsy!” I said as much casually as possible, shrugging my shoulders!

At most a month, and he’s blown a fuse. He’s just like that. People get on his nerves, and he’s a teacher. Not just a teacher, but he runs a good chunk of the school. He bought out Nero’s share last year because this lazy bum can’t be bothered to actually do anything but go to clubs, drink, and pretend he’s actually teaching. I do my part too. As I said, rules are my thing. I put in the rule against professors and students because of Nero. I never thought I would be breaking it.

Nikolai “Bloody no fucking way.” I frowned, anger bubbling through me. “I’m not fucking participating in any fucking tutorial program.” Professor Keller flinched. Actually flinched. The man was in his late fifties, balding, wire frame glasses sliding down his nose. His office smelled like old books and cheap coffee. Diplomas framed neatly behind him. Awards. Certificates. All useless. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Carrington, this isn’t optional.”

His words seem heavier than Cillian’s, and I want to stop and cry, but my phone beeps at once, showing an email from my new professor. “Get me the list of students attending this class, and I hope to see you all in an hour.” This reminds me that there is no time for a twenty-year-old unfuckable nerd like me to cry. I pause for a while in the hallway of the hotel to send a reply, but as soon as my eyes catch his display profile, I feel the floor beneath me being snatched from my legs. “It can’t be,” I murmur…

“What the fuck was that for?” He looked almost amused. “You looked like you needed it.” “I did not need a hug,” I said through gritted teeth. “The professor’s an asshole,” he said simply. “You shouldn’t let assholes ruin your mood.” I stared at him, half angry, half confused. “You are so obnoxious you know that right?.” “I’m not,” he said with an even tone. “I'm just saying. You shouldn’t give people like him that much power over you. He’s a miserable old man who probably cries when he looks at his paycheck.”

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 student's eyes lowered to the name of the professor for the course. Theodore Ashford, PhD Department of Psychology Professor & Dean for College of Social Sciences Isa let her hands glide over her keyboard for a quick G****e search. Something had to be off for a class like this to not be full yet. What she found was a world-renowned psychologist with dozens of publications, two uploaded TedTalks, a New York Times interview, and... To say the professor was just hot would be much less an understatement than a blatant insult. Through just the aggregates of pixels on her screen, Isa could sense the poise and presence the man carried with him. And, God, was the man attractive.

Will she really be seeing them all the time, as far as she knows, two of them are her professors. "Good morning. My name is Alistair King. I will be your professor for this year. You may only call me Professor King, and if I call on you, the reply is Sir, nothing else. Now in this class, I want contribution, utmost respect for me and eachother. This class is going to be difficult and if you feel like you can't handle it, walk out now. I will not be dealing with complaints at the end of any test or exams. Assignments will be given at the end of the week, individually or in groups, and every mark counts."

My name is Emma and I'm what they call a nerd. Not only that I have multiple nicknames like fathead, uglyface, the list is endless. Summer is finally over meaning it's back to school well for me more like I'm going to hell, you see I've always been bullied. It started of being an emotional thing but then they started bullying me physically, shoved me against the lockers, some girls actually slap me but I don't do anything I just walk away.