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FIVE

Arthur Adell

The moment the door opens and my footsteps sound in the classroom, it becomes silent. Just how I like it.

After two weeks of classes, most of them have learned my need for silence. While lecturing, every little disruption is enough to throw me off and mess with my focus. It's the total opposite of when I am writing—nothing can shake me from my determination when at it—, and it's damn frustrating that it doesn't come as easy. But this job, ironically enough, is what keeps me sane. Mostly.

Everything is better than staying home driving myself mad.

The heavy silence hits me, reminding me of the plan for this class. The past few days have been more sour than usual.

Students bail classes all the time, just like now, for example, at least five students are not inside these four walls. But none has irked me like Zuri's absence earlier this week.

And that lingering annoyance, that has been keeping me company for days, is what prompts me to speak right away, as I reach my desk, "Since so many of you like to bail, for every missing class you'll have one extra assignment added to your evaluation this semester. So for those who have already missed classes, start thinking of the books you'll be reading. I'll want thorough critiques on them."

Everyone starts complaining at the same time, completely breaking through that ethereal silence I enjoy so much.

"But-"

"Professor that's not fair!"

"I don't have enough time!"

"This is such bullshit!"

They all whine about the unfairness of it, how it will only add to their load. Well, I don't fucking care.

Leaning against the table with my hip, I counter, "Then, all you need to do is come to class. Plain and simple."

"But-"

"That way, your load won't increase. Now..."

Ignoring the white noise their complaints make, I turn around to my desk and swipe through my paperwork, to see all the notes I have prepared for today's class.

The words mix right in front of my eyes, the grumbling and whispering preventing my brain from organising the ideas running free. What was it?

Fucking hell.

Ah yes, the book they were supposed to read for class.

"How many of you have finished the chapters required for today's class?"

Continuous silence is my answer, and it makes me turn around to finally face them. All but one pair of eyes are looking down at their papers, which ropes me into their fire.

Those dark brown eyes are burning with anger and they're aiming at me. Of course.

The smirk on my face is almost visible, with the satisfaction I get from irking her. And I use this moment, the other student's avoidance, to study her better. It's the first time I have had a staring contest with a student. It's also the first time someone has the balls to look me in the eyes with defiance dancing in them.

"Ms Keita? Do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, Professor Adell."

"Share it with the class then," I prompt.

"You're an entitled asshole." Her strong words hit me like a hot slap to the face.

My entire body heats up in embarrassment as my heart speeds up.