The Professor Novels & Stories

[Vanessa] “Professor?” I take a step forward, trying one more time to get a definitive answer from him about what he is thinking. “Is there something I should know about before I go?" For as long as I known the professor, his is unfailingly honest. The man doesn't lie, at least not directly, and is honest even when it isn't kind. However, he is an expert at keeping secrets.

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 carr

“It’s good to have multiple outlets. Art can be isolating sometimes.” “Is that why you became a professor?” I asked. “To be less isolated?” He considered this as he stirred the sauce. “Partly. Teaching forces me to engage with the world in ways I’d normally avoid.” He gave a lopsided, self-deprecating smile. “Though my colleagues would probably tell you I still don’t engage enough.” ‘Professor Julia seems to think you engage just fine.’ I thought to myself. “The sauce is almost ready. Would you mind setting the table? Plates are in the cabinet.”

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.

why he is an Ex soldier or the fact that he was seven years older than me. When I heard the class suddenly began to settle my eyes scanned over to the man who had just walked in as our new professor. “Good morning,I would be your professor for this class” I heard someone say. My eyes instantly moved to the front of the classroom and when I saw the man standing there, my heart stopped. It was killian, my step brother he is my new professor. I looked over to the side and I saw most of my coursemates whispered something amongst themselves as most of the girls giggled.

I whispered. “And that will be all for today,” Professor Kai’s voice cut through the room, firm and final. He was already snapping his textbook shut, as a few eager students shot their hands up, but he waved them off with a tired motion. “Hold your questions until next time, and I promise to address them all.” I glanced at my watch, he was leaving early. A full thirty minutes early!?, my stomach tightened, and then, I knew my guess was right, Something is wrong!

Academic opportunities could not. “When do we leave?” “One hour. Station.” I packed fast and reached the station with coffee in one hand and my laptop bag on my shoulder. Professor Reed was already there. Dark wool coat, pale shirt, wind-touched hair, leather briefcase. He looked less like an external reviewer and more like a university brochure designed to ruin people’s judgment. His eyes paused on my coffee. “Morning.” “Good morning, Professor Reed.” “We’re off campus today. Daniel is fine.” I pretended not to hear him and looked for my ticket.

I finally reached the pedestal and stopped a few feet away, and I stared up at the tall professor who was waiting for me with a deep, permanent scowl carved into his aged face. The professor wore long black robes that dragged across the polished stone, and he held a digital scroll that projected a glowing blue list of names into the air between us. He looked me up and down with open disgust, and he pinched the bridge of his nose because my muddy boots were leaving filthy footprints across his pristine classroom floor. "I was informed that the Varric pack was sending a human charity case today, but I expected them to at least wash you before dumping you on my c

There he was. Professor Thiago walked through the entrance wearing a simple black and white jersey top tucked into dark jeans, one hand resting casually in his pocket. He wasn't doing anything special. He wasn't trying to draw attention to himself. Yet, every pair of eyes seemed to find him anyway. Girls whispered among themselves, openly staring. A few shamelessly nudged their friends. He didn't react to any of it. Before he could get very far, the coach walked over with a warm smile and shook his hand. Another professor joined them a moment later, and the three of them exchanged a few words before heading toward the reserved faculty seats together.

"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.