Nerd Professor Novels & Stories

Professor Nathaniel Cross was a middle-aged man with slightly frizzy brown hair streaked with gray, sweater vests, and fancy little leather-bound books he said he used for ‘notes’ as he gave a presentation from them while our professor for the course manned a slide show. He was quirky, he was strange, he was absolutely fantastic, and knew what he was talking about. Was he in the know or was he just an enthusiast though? That was much harder to tell than you'd think when some people were obsessed with the idea of the supernatural. Halloween was more than enough to show that, but still. The professor spoke about things he’d have to have done his research on to get such an accurate conclusion,

People have sex, it’s not a big deal,’ ‘Keep telling yourself that,’ she mumbled inaudibly and I took that opportunity to drop the topic. I was peed-on-myself embarrassed when I stepped into Antiquity, a class by Professor Norton, and discovered that he had already started teaching. He appeared to be strict with an alcohol-pumped stomach, bulging eyes that were worsened by his magnifying glasses—I don’t think anyone has told him about that yet—and on first glance, or any other glance for that matter, you’d think he was wearing a fake mustache.

Hooking my arm around hers, we headed toward the lecture room together. “This is exactly why I hate coming to this class. He’s about to bore me to death,” she complained as we settled into our seats. “Relax, girl. We’ll be done in a jiffy,” I assured her while my gaze drifted toward the professor. He still looked young, maybe in his late thirties or early forties. He usually wore a white glass, giving the nerd kind of vibe. I still remembered the day we had sex. Everything happened in exchange for him helping me pass the course.

"You don't have to be nervous around me. I know college can be intimidating. But that's what professors are here for. To help, guide, and mold minds." "I'm sorry. I'm not used to asking for help. It's just so embarrassing. And I feel so stupid. In high school, I knew all the answers and now I'm completely lost." I stop myself before I start rambling. I can be a bit much when I let my mouth run. "That's fine. Have a seat. Help yourself to my Keurig. I have all kinds of flavors. Close the door and let's get started." Professor Oakley takes a sip of his coffee and finally looks at me as I help myself to the Keurig.

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.

Melissa’s Point Of View. “The professor is here.” Freya whispered to Chloe and me, as we stretched in the training hall. My heart skipped a beat as she said those words and I stood to my full height to watch him walk into the class. He was putting on his training clothes and very white sneakers that glittered on the floor. On his wrist was a gold wristwatch that I surprisingly couldn’t peel my eyes off no matter how hard I tried. Professor Zach walked through the aisle of the hall, nodding his head to the greetings of the other students and also smiling at them. I scoffed silently in my mind, wondering why he seemed to know how to smile to others, but frowned anytime he talked to me.

Professor O’Connel says. “My best friend just admitted having feelings for me and…I don’t know why I am telling you this! I have enough problems with old men telling me what to do! I am not seeking advice!” I snap at the friendly and helpful professor, who is less than ten years older than me. I feel bad. He’s always been a nice guy and super understanding and he looks hurt and concerned. I’m not a total dick, so I apologize and ask if he has a minute after I declare my major.

His features were delicate, but he was not someone who cared about his appearance and never took care of himself, so he looked a bit disheveled. Upon closer look, his eyes were as bright and sharp as a falcon. Leroy was a young genius professor at Harvard who came here for research, so he had a part-time position at this university. At a glance, no one would know his identity. He sat casually in a relaxed posture with his legs crossed and a frivolous smile on his face. “As I told you before, you’re my last student. I don’t have the energy to train others anymore.” Nicole took out an exquisite little box from her bag.

"Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?" "Aside from the fact that it'll be the best sixty seconds of your pathetic life? Nothing." I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the rough fabric of his hoodie. "Just shut up and let me get this over with." "You look like you're about to vomit," he whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous vibration. "Is the Ice Queen actually scared of a nerd?" "I’m disgusted, Elias. There’s a difference." "Then show me," he challenged. "Show me how much you hate it."

Daffodil felt a warmth enter her body at the friendly expression of the man. She waited for him to walk over. “Hello. Would you like some help? We’re yet to get someone to take over responsibility of the library. I’m Professor Theodore.” Daffodil blinked and fumbled with the sleeve of her shirt, hoping her Dream Acorn stayed hidden. He didn’t show any traces of Half-Myth up close except his scent and Daffodil wondered if she was confusing herself. The professor’s gaze shifted down to her fumbling hands and then back to her face.