Adriana
It's been a week since I started my Advanced Literature class -which I have every other day- and I seem to be the only student paying attention to what Mr. Park is saying, and not his ass.
Of course his ass is a beautiful sight.
But anyways, I've noticed that every period, there seems to be more students in the class room.
It started with maybe half the class bringing a friend, and then everyone bringing another friend, and this time it seems like every student brought their entire family.
Every seat is full, and people are standing bunched at the back and even around the sides of the room.
I am thankful that I got here a bit early, because otherwise I wouldn't have a seat.
I sigh as the girl next to me takes a picture of Mr. Park, and when she glares at me I smile sweetly at her.
With ten minutes left in class, Mr. Park asks for questions, and everyone except for me raises their hand.
He looks a bit uncomfortable when after the thirteenth question, he still hasn't gotten one related to the course.
They're all about him or his personal life, and when the bell rings I can tell Mr. Park is relieved.
Today I'm wearing a black dress with one strap and a sweetheart neckline. It cinches at my waist and then flows out like a tutu, ending soon after.
The girl who took the picture pushes past me and then looks back.
We are the last students in the hall left with Mr. Park, and when she speaks her voice rings throughout it loudly.
"Slut!" She yells maliciously.
I smile at her. "What do you know about my sexual history?" I ask sweetly.
She shakes her head with a cruel laugh and turns, walking out of the hall.
I let out a breath. Acting strong in front of bullies has taken me years, but right now I feel like curling up and crying.
I turn to Mr. Park and see him standing just a row of seats away from me.
"Are you okay?" He asks sympathetically.
"I-yeah I'm fine." I croak, wiping a tear from my face.
"No you're not." He says gently.
"Really, I'm used to bitches like that. Thanks though, Mr. Park. And sorry about swearing." I add quickly.
He looks like he wants to say something and then stops himself. "You should probably get to your next class." He says finally.
"Oh, yeah. Um- bye." I say, almost disappointed as I grab my bag and rush to the door.
Then I turn back and find him rather close to me.
I take his hand and squeeze it gently. "You're a really good teacher."
With that I open the door and run across campus.
YOU ARE READING
The Professor
RomanceAdriana is a quirky girl with her own ideas of what's normal. In her fourth year of college and an aspiring teacher, she still wears black dresses and heels every day. She's not looking for love, in fact she's rather against putting that much trust...
