I grumbled in the wool coat I wore atop it all, trying to balance my coffee, bag, and purse. I managed to lock my car with a chirp, then glided through campus without killing myself. Faculty parking got me right at the entrance of the history department. My first class was early western civilizations. Definitely fitting since that was my background. I’d actually met Evie during my first early western civ class during my time at NYU.
I passed her office on the way to mine. Her light was on. Odds were, she was in there doing her own work, but I didn’t have time to say hi since I had maybe thirty minutes before my class started. This may seem like a lot of time for the students, but since I was a professor, I needed to prepare a bit.
I dropped my personal items inside my office, still packed with boxes and other personal items I’d moved over here. I still had a lot to do regarding getting the place together, but obviously didn’t have time this morning.
A sip from my coffee and my coat hung, I dashed out the door with my messenger bag, thankful I didn’t have any overly eager students already in there. I appreciated that, but not today, embarrassed enough since I was already what I considered late.
I turned on the overhead projector, then logged on, hitting the lights while the computer booted up. I also got my syllabus out as well, stacking them at the front, and by the time the computer came on and I had my presentation on screen, I sorta kinda looked like I had it together. I always found it funny how I believed my professors in school and teachers in high school always had things together. I was definitely not a great example of that.
“Morning, professor.”
“Morning.”
A few students chirped as they filtered inside, and I passed a wave in greeting to them as I finished setting up. This was an undergraduate class, a general elective for most, so odds were, it’d be mostly freshman in here today. Sometimes an occasional junior or senior would make their way in as well, waiting until the last minute to get their gen-eds in and all that. I smiled at the small group. “Go ahead and grab syllabuses before you sit. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Today should be a rather easy day. Usually, the first week or so was pretty easy. I’d let the class read the syllabus today, then as the weeks progressed, we’d get to the more detailed stuff regarding class work. By week three, the class had usually thinned out pretty good and long gone were the days that I took offense to that. Especially when it came to undergraduate classes. Early western civ wasn’t for everyone, and it wasn’t a course I let my students sleep through. They had to do the readings and the work, and some found they could get by with an easy art or media class instead.
The students took my direction while I worked my jacket off, already hot from rushing around. I fanned myself out behind the podium, leaving my arms bare in my black dress tank. I probably wouldn’t stay the whole period that way, but it worked for now.
I drew my hands down my face, before lacing my fingers together and greeting each new student in with a smile. I gave them all the same direction, take a syllabus before sitting and they did, the room filling up quickly. Before I knew it, the whole classroom was filled aside for a few seats.
I closed the door promptly at the top of the hour. Literally the most annoying thing to me in the world was to start late, and the second, late students.
In the center of the room, I stood. “Good morning, class. My name is Brielle Whitman-Quintero. Doctor. But you can just call me professor.” I put my hands together. “And this is History 275, Early Western Civilizations.”
Making my way to the podium, I flicked to a slide about myself and my credentials before coming around and hitching a seat against the table up front.
“First thing’s first,” I said. “I’m pretty laid-back, but I abhor lateness. In all forms. I don’t start late. I don’t like late. I promise I’ll show up for you guys, on time, and I expect the same in return. I respect you guys enough to not waste your time, so I just ask that I get that from you too.”
A general consensus with their nods, so it seemed like we were clear, but then, the door creaked open and the gates of chaos and trickery unfurled its wicked mischief directly into my classroom, a man in sharp black gliding in with a brown leather cross bag strapped to his broad chest. He wore all black down to his suede shoes, laced and immaculate beneath the cuff of his twill pants, his dress shirt left a button or two open and hugging his tapered frame. The entire room directed their eyes to him, just like me, but unlike them, they got zero of his attention.
That, well, was reserved for me.
He stopped on me, almost like he’d been looking for me, but clearly, he hadn’t, his steps slowed, his mouth parted. He even looked around to make sure he was in the right place.
I had the feeling he was.
I had a feeling someone hated me, had to because no way was he in there right now.
No way was he in my class.
But sure enough, even from the back of the room, those thick curls swayed in their awesome way, those eyes danced and that smile ticked right as the seconds passed. Out of the periphery, someone tapped him with a syllabus, making room when he took his attention off me long enough to take the handout, then the seat they offered. He sat right in the back, fingers laced and popping his focus in my direction. That smile never left.
And I was dead.
Ramses
Dude.
What the fuck?
But there she was, right there at the head of the class like some slow-reeling fantasy, a wet dream in her tight pants, ankle strap heels, and a black top that glided easy silk over her glorious rack. She nearly peeped side boob out of the side of it, fucking hot and had me seriously about to adjust my shit right under this damn desk. I almost hadn’t even made it into class today, a scheduled board meeting with my name on it. It was my first one, and I hated to move it, but I had class and the board had been accommodating. There’d been more than one moving piece to make that happen though and I literally had to wait until confirmation this morning before hopping in my ride and huffing it to class. The board agreed to get me in tomorrow, so I made it here today.
In front of Brielle, apparently.
Brielle, my professor, with her gorgeously matte lips and firecracker personality. I was about ninety percent sure she’d been chewing out the class before I walked the hell in here. I caught the tail end of it as I opened the door and the class had been silent. I questioned turning around at the sound of a spiel about being late but figured I could take the handling. I wouldn’t let it happen again and would apologize to my professor for the error.
My professor.
Fucking gorgeous and in awe of the situation just as much as me. She hadn’t said anything when I’d come in, and since I’d been surprised to see her myself, I merely took my seat before letting her continue. She did, albeit, after a beat. She flicked a lock of that silky black hair of hers, taking the time to pull it around like she could ever, in her life, cover up how awesome her chest was. In the end, she opted to return her jacket on, flipping out her hair over its boxy shoulders. She looked like a real professor up there, a doctor apparently. She had her presentation all up on the projection screen and with a hurried urgency dove right into it without addressing me or our situation at all. At the present, she was going to act like it never happened, like we never happened, and since we were in a room full of her students and my, well, classmates, I didn’t blame her.