Professor Novelas e Histórias

"Don't know about you but Miss Julik was a pain in the butt." I giggled. "Kinda right there though." He mirrored my expression and suddenly our conversation was cut down when the door opened and entered the new Professor---the same one which we had seen earlier in the cafeteria. Grey's eyes turned into slits and he quietly said, "pinch me. I must be dreaming Rose. Pinch me, I said." I was about to reply when his deep, husky voice boomed around the class. "Afternoon students. I'm Professor Edoardo Piaci, your new Psychology 6501 teacher." He paused, taking in each and every face, before resuming, "I believe, you all have finished

Miss Joana asked one of the male teachers who had just arrived. "Oh? Who are you?" Miss Joana took off her glasses and looked annoyed at the man in front of her. "I'm a new teacher here. I teach English." "Really? It's no wonder I've never seen you. Oh, let me introduce myself, I’m Bagus, the mathematics teacher." Miss Joana just stared at Mr. Nice's outstretched hand without intending to accept it. Not long after, the bell rang. "Oh I have to teach now. Please move aside, you are blocking my way."

But that wasn’t the worst part. No. Because right beside him—arms awkwardly at his sides, expression horrifically neutral, eyes darting like a deer caught in a very inappropriate headlights—stood... Mr. Cristiano Wright. My professor. In his dark slacks and half-buttoned shirt. His perfectly composed face trying to calculate whether he’d walked into an emotional intervention or a domestic warfare documentary. I could see it in his eyes. That exact moment when his soul quietly whispered: “I am a dignified professor. I teach literature. I grade essays. Why the actual f**k am I here?”

I laugh. “You’re right, I can’t imagine you waking up with a prostate the size of my big-ass head,” I say and he hums in agreement after laughing. “You can bend over, I’ll stick my finger up there and check it out for you. I’m a professional.” I offer. He rejects me almost immediately. “On second thoughts, I’d rather worry about what you have to tell me.” He says, switching the conversation to where we were originally headed. “Oh, right,” I murmur.

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.

From her personality, she looks like a rich girl. "My name is Zaviyaar Khan. You can call me professor. Other than that, I don't like any names. I don't like any fun or misbehaviour in class. If anyone tries to, then later on he/she won't take the class. Let's start the session today with the introduction of the subject." Zaviyaar folded the cuffs of his arms and powered on his laptop. Along with it, he connected his laptop to the projector. Slight noises of whispers were circulating in the class.

Professor Murphy says as their walking towards the security booth. “Thank you Professor,” Aron speaks for the first time since they’ve arrived. Professor Murphy has been teaching in law school for 25 years now. He may be old but his teaching techniques are better than any of the teachers there. Everyone loves him as he’s humble and takes care of his students without discrimination. Aron and Ashley are happy as Professor Murphy is the one going with them as he’s funny and they’ll be comfortable with him.

“And you are…?” Even though I already knew exactly who he was. He extended his hand with a charming smile. “Professor Adrian. I'm the new Microbiology lecturer. It’s nice to officially meet you, Aria.” I shook his hand, noticing how warm and strong his grip was. “Nice to meet you too, Professor Adrian.” He helped me pick up the last of my books, his eyes lingering on me a little longer than necessary. There was something about the way he looked at me, curious.

What if it was the weird professor trying to chase her about a date? She hesitantly pulled up the email, bracing herself for the cringeworthy content. But it wasn’t from Professor Hammond. Dear Miss Jones, Apologies I had to run off so quickly earlier. I didn’t get a chance to tell you how impressed I was by your talk. Your passion for history is rare and wonderful to see. On top of that you managed to capture the attention of our students. No easy feat I can tell you! I’m not exactly sure what you do for work at the moment, but I wondered if you have ever considered a career as a lecturer? You would need a Masters degree, but t

Then the professor was coming in. “Well, good morning class. My name is Professor Maxwell Swift. You can call me Max,” the professor said as he stated that he was a Ph.D. researcher for Volcanology and he was excited to experiment with the recent volcanic activity in the news. “It seems that this class will be a very good one this year since we have our very special alumni that will be your TA for this Volcanology Ecosystem 101, Mr. Cameron Hayes,” the professor said. I blinked my eyes before Hayes was walking toward the professor and