The Professor Novels & Stories

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

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.

"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.

I inhaled sharply and forced myself back to why I was here. “Rumors say the coach for the college hockey team resigned following your employment,” I said carefully. “Some even say you were once a hockey legend yourself. There’s an upcoming tournament the team is preparing for, and they can’t do without a coach.” I paused, hoping my words had landed. Hoping he understood what I was really asking. “Do I have a choice?” he asked after a moment, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’re a teacher on campus,” I replied quickly. “You should care about your students. You should be present to guide them when they need help and you should…”

The thirty year old professor came out when he noticed that the cab stopped in front of his house and Irvin stepped out. “Good morning, Professor.” Irvin greeted as he was led inside. There are few people decorating the venue with balloons. But what surprised him is that all of them are well toned bodied males. Four of them including his Professors. “Good morning.” He greeted the other three but they just glared at him with a smirk and continued to their doings.

"The professor on stage with the silver hair is Professor Sean Song. He’s a titan in the academic world with forty years of experience. “One of the papers I sent you yesterday—he wrote it when he was sixty." His deep, smooth voice resonated in her ears. A strange shiver ran down her spine, but her focus remained on the people before her, her eyes gleaming with admiration. True knowledge had no limits. No matter one’s age, as long as they had the will to learn, the possibilities were endless. They stood close, speaking in hushed tones, lost in their conversation. What they didn’t realize was that from the moment they entered, many eyes in the room had already s

“How’s the new professor?” I groaned and rubbed my temples. “Awful so far. Professor Stevens is old, stuffy, and a complete stickler for the rules. Her lectures are long and boring, and I swear she’s trying to kill her students with work.” “That bad, huh?” Tina winced sympathetically as she took a bite of her chicken salad sandwich.

His dark brown hair was neatly styled, and his gentle gaze encompassed us all. He had gentle features yet there was something about him that attracted me to him. “Good morning, everyone,” he began, setting his materials down on the desk. His voice was deep and smooth, with just a hint of an accent that I couldn’t quite place. “I’m Professor Farid Reign, and I’ll be guiding you through Advanced Theoretical Physics this semester. We’re going to delve into the complexities of quantum mechanics, explore the difficulties of string theory, and discuss the latest developments in cosmology.”

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 g