The Professor Mga Nobela at Kwento

Because of him, I now know at least all the nutritional disadvantages of chocolate and the benefits of vegetables. “And that brings us to the end of the class.” The professor stacks her files together, staring at us through her sharp glasses. Professor McFadden is one of the strictest classes on campus, and I don’t think any student enjoys maths, the subject she teaches well, maybe except for Ivan, but I don’t attend any of his classes. As I sit on my seat, I wonder how he behaves in class, does he push his glasses up whenever an equation seems to fluster him or does he keep his gaze focused on the Professor and not pay any atte

He is a person under forty and looks suspicious too. “Sorry for the delay,” the professor said after giving me a quick look. “Oh, what is a pretty girl like you doing here?” The teacher said as he approached me. "You take care, Grandpa," I said sarcastically, then sat down on the chair and heard laughter, and it turned out to be one of the boys. "Oh look who's on fire," said Jackson, mocking the professor. "Sit down, everyone; I don't want to hear any sound," the professor said angrily.

She was serving as their liaison. "Yes..." Elinor answered and Stella looked at the professor again before they started walking again. "That's Professor Henry," She said, "He teaches History and Tactical geography here," She added, "It's probably not him. I must be getting obsessed with this to start hearing his voice everywhere. Or maybe it was a similar note of tone to the one I already know." She said with a smile. Stella frowned for a moment then nodded. And Elinor realized that she was going to investigate it anyway.

The professor for the session, the kindly but formidable Professor Patel, entered and stood before the class. “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to the final lecture for today. I know you’ve all been through a series of lectures, but think of this as the pinnacle of your efforts. Give it everything you’ve got,” Professor Patel’s deep voice resonated in the now silent room, broken only by the hum of the air conditioning.

His ancient dress code of oversized slacks with a faded brown crossing belt over a white shirt didn't do his figure any good either. "We are sorry sir." "It won't happen again." The two girls muttered intermittently, their heads lowered. Maya could sense the fear in their posture. She could tell already that the professor was a no-nonsense human. "It better not." The professor stated, with a hiss. "Now back to what I was saying, before I was interrupted rudely...the answer to the quiz. Who has an idea?" He queried, his hands resting on the first desk on Maya's row. Maya watched around the class. No one was raising up their hands

In fact, the professor has managed to put on some weight and looks tired. “You sound like I should be worried about being noticed,” he laughs as if he can’t believe me. He probably thinks I’m delusional so I can give him as much as a moment of benefit of the doubt. Just a moment, though. I raise my finger and grin, “Oh, but you should.” “Hmm. And why do you think so, my dear Sarah?” Professor brings his hand up to his face and scratches his chin. I imitate his action as I speak, “Well, to begin with, if you haven’t done your research, you’re in one hospital with the entire Vincent family. Don’t act like you don’t know who they are.”

Jack pats her shoulder, his face twisted in fake concern. I should feel something sympathy, worry but all I can think is: Now who’s going to tell me my art is empty? The dean gestures to the stranger beside her. "This is Mr. Laurent. He’ll be your substitute instructor for the remainder of the semester." And that’s when I finally look at him. Jerome Laurent is not what I expected. Young too young to be a professor, maybe late twenties with tousled dark hair and a sharp jaw shadowed by stubble. He’s dressed in all black: fitted slacks, a rolled sleeve button down, boots that look like they’ve seen more than just a classroom.

"W-Why?" I stuttered. I have swallowed the rice even though I haven't chewed it much yet. I think I'm gonna get choked. She smirked. "He's our professor in Algebra.” I was dumbfounded. He really is a professor. I couldn't understand why I felt nervous and scared. Did I really think he would go to school to study again? Fuck, I just want to transfer to another school. My gut is telling me that I should stay away from Rajiv. I feel like something bad is going to happen whenever we bump into each other.

“Don’t.” I wish she could talk to me about it, but we’re in the classroom, and the professor might arrive at any time. But, just as I anticipated, a loud, clearing throat resounds across the classroom. Everyone shuts their mouths, followed by a deadly silence. Our attention gets drawn to the front, where a sophisticated, sexy, and attractive young professor in a black shirt and pants stands by the grand piano. He now has a pair of black-framed glasses on. The most awaited man has finally arrived. “Good morning. I’m Professor Julian Sebastian...”

"So you're saying it doesn't connect?" Snickers from the back grow louder. "I'm saying it's outside the scope of this lesson." He tilted his head just slightly. "Or maybe it's difficult to connect?" More laughter and whispers. Heat crawled up my neck. "How does she not know the answer to a student's question... but she calls herself a professor" Someone whispered loud enough for me to hear. I don't know if he was deliberately trying to make me an object of mockery but it was genuinely pissing me off.