The Professor Novels & Stories

Professor McClone turned, a hint of surprise on his face. "Ah, Adeline! What can I do for you?" he asked. Adeline took a deep breath. "Professor McClone, I was wondering if you could tell me why Professor Wellesley wasn't teaching today," Adeline inquired. Professor McClone's expression turned guarded. "I'm afraid Professor Wellesley had an unexpected commitment arise. He'll be back tomorrow," Professor McClone replied. Adeline's disappointment was palpable.

I can see each muscle as she flexes, her calves high and tight as she balances on her four-inch heels. Just as I am sure one more step will make me fall over dead, the professor makes one last turn before stopping before a solid wood door. On a brass placard placed at about eye level, the word with the name 'Dr. Delilah M Davis is engraved. The number 225 is listed just above it with smaller, matching bras. Pulling a key from an inner jacket pocket, she jams it into the lock, twists, and with a quiet little click it swings open. Without saying a word, Professor Davis disappears inside.

Also, who dared to reprimand Colin like this? Oh, it was the professor. "Professor, do the police even care about putting people to sleep now?" I bravely faced Professor King's disdainful gaze and asked him. He solemnly shook his head and said, "Are the police so free now? But going to the police station can definitely sober up a drunkard." So that was what he meant. The professor was just messing with Colin again. Over the past few days, Colin had made countless video calls, checking in with me so strictly that it angered the professor. He scolded Colin for being useless and a clingy worrywart.

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.

That must be her dominant side. The door opened, revealing our Professor. He was not what I expected. His thin lips, long hair tied in a band, hard eyes, chiseled jaw, thick muscles, and a scar directly beneath his left eyebrow. He was jaggedly handsome, but I couldn't help but think of a certain man with raven hair when I looked at him. A smile played on my lips as I thought about my mate Alpha Lorenzo. Just then the Professor blew his whistle, “Gather around everyone let’s get to work,” his voice boomed which had everyone moving quickly. I scrambled to the front to get a good look at him and hear what he had to say.

That was a feeling I hadn't felt in a very long time. "I see. I think you'll be great at it." He said smiling at me. I looked at him. How could he tell? "What about you?" I asked. "I'm not a student. I'm actually here to replace one of the psychology professors who's retiring at the end of the semester. I was asked to come and observe the last couple of weeks of his classes and get a feel for the school. I start this summer though." A professor? He didn't look old enough to be a teacher. Then again looks can be deceiving.

"Good morning, class." My head held high as I saw our professor, Mr. Wilson. He is only in his mid-twenties, I think, but at his young age, he was known for being a terror professor. If students fail, he will really fail them without utmost consideration. He doesn't go through special projects and for some worst case scenario, bribery. "Hmm, that's strange, Mr. Rodríguez. Why didn't you join your friends in ditching the class?"

I didn't speak any more and just waited for our professor to come to that subject. I was busy talking to Lexy on Messenger. I was even laughing because of the conversation between the two of us, only to be interrupted when I felt Brandon gently elbow me, which made me look up at him. "What?" I asked him, frowning. He shook his head, and I just realized that the whole class was silent. I looked at the front and saw a professor entering there. Our professor is a man, and I think he is in his mid-fifties. He looked around the whole class until our eyes met.

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.

I quickly opened the school’s forum and began to type. MissCaptainOfAll: I need help ASAP! This is a case that should be handled as an emergency. Does anyone know who the professor handling Data Analytics for year three is? He is somewhat anonymous but I really need to know who he is right now. If you have emails or some type of way to reach him, reply to this post!