AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I press the send button and sit down on the couch. There are about ten minutes before I have to leave, and I need every single drop of caffeine to put up with the ungrateful students I’m about to have to teach.
This is my fourth year teaching American Literature, and most students put it off until their last semester, and then expect me to pass them for mediocre participation. Some of the professors might let this slide, but I do not.
The university has pegged me as a tough teacher. Many other professors don’t take to me well because I won’t let anyone get by with crappy work. Why should athletes get a C if they didn’t complete the assignment and deserve an F? Why is it my responsibility to make it to where they can play? Instead, the coaches and university should pry into their brains that education is more important than winning games. If they want to play for the team, than do their homework and put in the effort. So maybe I’m a little old-fashioned when it comes to that, but I’m not changing my ways for anyone.
My phone vibrates against the coffee table.
Leslie: I’ll be free around 7.
A smile erupts, and I send a smiling emoji back.
My eye catches the time and I have to head to campus. I place my mug into the sink, and head out the door. First days are always short. I try to let them out early, since we will only go over the syllabus today. No need to stick around and waste an hour simply talking about random crap. Most of the students like the first days for that reason. Short classes.
When I approach campus, the parking lot is packed and it takes me almost twenty-minutes to find a parking spot. We are not off to a great start. I cut the engine, and grab my laptop bag. A mustang pulling in beside me almost takes my door off the hinge.
“Watch out! What the hell!”
The kid just stares at me, and waits for me to walk away before getting out of his car. Sometimes, I wonder how people get their license. It seems like no one knows how to drive anymore.
I pull out my phone to see if Leslie responded, but the glare from the sunlight makes it impossible to see. Walking the Quad to the English hall, I contemplate the best restaurant to take her tonight. Landry’s is romantic, but not so expensive that I’ll have to cut back on spending for the rest of the month. Yet, I’m wondering if that will make me seem cheap. Am I supposed to go all out on a first date?
The double door entrance opens with students filing out, and I sneak in and up the stairs to the lecture hall. I’m surprised to find almost ten students after inside. Usually, most don’t show up until about five minutes before and trickle in right before the class starts. Occasionally, I have a couple students that always run late and blame it on not knowing where to go. I try to cut a little slack on day one, because maybe they are telling the truth.
I maneuver down the aisle that leads down to the podium and stool, but also my desk. There is still about four minutes until class starts.
“Who wants to put one of these on every desk?” I ask, raising the syllabuses into the air. There is usually always one over eager student who wants to earn points with the professor.
“Me, sir.”
I hand her the papers, and pull out my laptop, powering it on, and going to the cabinet to get a bottle of water. My eyes gaze around the room, as students continue to file through the double doors and find their seats.
When my laptop shows eight o’clock, I begin class.
“Welcome to American Literature. Most of you have put this class off until your last semester, but this isn’t going to be a breeze.”
The doors in the back squeak open, and a woman enters, but doesn’t make it far before she trips and falls. I rush up the stairs, and offer her a hand. Embarrassing moments always outweigh anything else. Kids will be talking about this all day.
“Maybe you should be more careful. And on time.”
Her hand perks up, and when her eyes meet mine, I almost throw up. Leslie is on my classroom floor, looking up at me. What the hell is she doing here? I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. Her eyes are wide in the same state of shock as me.
She leans in and whispers. “What the hell, Noah? Really?”
Leslie gets to her feet and I clear my throat, looking out over the classroom. I can’t make it obvious we know each other, because rumors travel fast here, and that would not be good for my career.
Without looking back at Leslie, I make my way back down to the front of the class to finish my introduction. The whole room is focusing on me again, instead of her, which is what I want. Except instead of her moving and finding a seat, she is just standing at the back, gaping at me, like she’s seeing a ghost.
“How about you go find your seat so I can go over the syllabus and begin class?” I say, gesturing to her to sit down.
I go on about my introduction and give her time to settle in. Right now, my focus is on getting this done, and these students out of here. This blind side is aggravating, because what the hell am I supposed to do now? I slept with a student. Sure, I didn’t know it at the time, but still. I could lose my fucking job.
The students barely pay attention while I talk about the novels required for this class, and once I say the word early, they all come alive, putting the papers away in their backpacks and shoving their way out of the door. A couple students come up and have questions, but they are answered in the papers, and I instruct them to read it over and then ask during next class if they still need clarification.
Leslie is still sitting in her seat, and one other student in the back of the classroom. We can’t talk about this here. It only takes one student to overhear and my career ends.
“Can I help you, Ms. Haddon?” I ask, looking down at my laptop as to not stare at her perky breasts that were in my mouth last night.
The girl in the back just isn’t leaving.
