5
NOAH
R
USTLING PAPERS AND BAGS ZIPPING ALERTED NOAH TO CLASS ENDING SOON. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and if the time was correct, class would end in one minute. He dragged his gaze from the clock down to Professor Bryant, who also looked at the clock as she simultaneously lectured before stopping.
“Now is a good place to stop. Remember to read Chapter Eight before coming to class on Thursday. As you know by now, I will be giving a quiz.”
Half-hearted replies of acknowledgment were rattled off as everyone began to file out of the classroom, probably in a rush to another class to make sure they weren't late. Noah stood slowly and bounced down the steps at his leisure, watching Professor Bryant as she closed out her PowerPoint on the projector so it would be clear for the next professor who came in after them.
Yesterday after practice, Coach Benson told him Professor Bryant was willing to personally tutor him, which surprised Noah. Noah knew Coach Benson was a determined person, and once he set his mind to something, he was like a dog with a bone, but with a person like Professor Bryant, Noah was positive that Coach Benson's threatening persistence wouldn't work on her. Majority of the time, Professor Bryant looked at him as if he were a fly she wanted to swat. The fact that she agreed to tutor him still perplexed him. And when Noah found himself standing in front of her, he peered into her eyes, trying to figure out what made Professor Bryant help him.
Professor Bryant looked at him, again, with that same look she usually looked at him with. She grabbed her bag, and without a word, walked away. That was the type of person she was, the type of person who couldn't bother to give attention to her own student once class was over. So, why would someone like her be willing to tutor him? He really wanted to know.
"Professor Bryant," Noah called after her, using his long limbs to catch up with her. She didn't bother to look at him as she kept her pace, her heels clicking against the marble floor as everyone in her path walked around the short-statured woman who looked like she was on a mission.
“Did you finally find the words you want to say to me?” Professor Bryant asked as she turned the corner, and in tow, he followed her. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her clear arrogance.
“Coach Benson told me that you were going to tutor me,” Noah said, and Professor Bryant finally glanced at him as if she suddenly remembered that she did tell Coach Benson that she would do something like that. Noah couldn’t tell if her expression was from surprise or annoyance.
“I did tell him that,” she said as she continued to walk, leaving Noah to wonder where exactly they were walking to. It wasn’t much of a problem for him. He didn’t have a class after this, and his practice wouldn’t be until later. But at the speed she was walking, it did make him curious.
“When will you be able to tutor me?” Noah asked. Though he wasn’t happy about giving up his free time for this, he was happy to know that he still had a chance of passing this class. After she had announced the next exam, Noah was positive that he was going to fail and would be benched for the rest of the season. If that happened, he didn't know what he would do. He could enter his name in the draft early and end his college career, but everything he had worked to achieve thus far would be a waste. How could he prove himself outside of his parents' name if he didn't show his skill on the ice? He had to prove himself. And if that meant spending a couple of extra hours with a professor he disliked, then he was willing to do just that.
“Weekends are out of the question,” she said with finality, and Noah didn't bother to argue against that. He wasn't keen on the idea of losing his weekends either. “We’ll have to do it sometime during the week.”
“What about now? I’m free for the next two hours,” Noah suggested as he nodded at a few of his friends passing by. They waved at him, and when he came across another group, this time girls, he winked at them. One of the girls, whose name he could not remember, he had hooked up with at a party. She looked at him with a knowing smile, blushing.
“I have a class in the next five minutes, so that won’t be possible,” Professor Bryant said as she glanced at the group of giggling girls who were waving at Noah. They cooed out his name in unison, and he winked once again, throwing his signature smile that got him the reputation as the ladies man he was.
“It seems that you’re quite the popular one,” Professor Bryant commented lightly, and Noah found himself wondering what that meant. If anyone else had said it, he wouldn’t think much of it, seeing it as a compliment. But for some reason, when she said it, it sounded different coming from her mouth, like she was judging him, or maybe even analyzing him. Maybe that's what all people who had psychology degrees did.
“It's my good looks,” Noah said cheekily. Professor Bryant arched a brow at him, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement as if she didn’t believe him. But it was true. Noah wouldn’t call himself arrogant, but it was hard to ignore constantly being told since he was young by the women around him how handsome he was. And when he passed puberty, it was over. From there on, he was able to get the attention of any girl he wanted, even those who pretended they didn’t want him.
“It’s probably because of your personality,” she said as they hit the corner, and when they turned, their arms accidentally brushed each other, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge it. “Good looks can only get you so far with people if you’re personality isn’t good.”
For the first time, her words didn’t make him feel like shit. “Thanks, teach,” he said.
“Teach?” she repeated before snorting. “I think I prefer Professor Bryant over that.”
“Professor Bryant is a mouth full. Teach is much shorter and cooler. Besides, you’re young. Professor makes you sound old.”
“Yeah, exactly, I’m older than you,” she said. “So out of respect and the amount of schooling it took to get me this title, you should call me Professor.”
They stopped in front of a class on the other side of the building, and she turned to face him, finally giving him her undivided attention.
“So, it’s really a no for Teach?” he asked with a grin, finding himself amused by the wrinkle of her nose.
“If I let you call me Teach, then the rest of my students will start calling me Melanie.”
“Melanie?” Noah repeated, confused before a smile formed on his face. As he looked at his professor, Noah found himself surprised to know that was her name. She was such a hard ass, but the name Melanie sounded soft and sweet. He would have thought her name would be something much different.
“I like it,” Noah said, and Melanie shook her head.
“There’s no way I’m letting you call me that. Now, before I step inside of here, let’s figure out how we're going to schedule this. When do you have time?”
And once again, she was back to her serious self. Noah sighed as he tried to think of the time he was willing to spare. Though he knew he needed this direly, that didn't mean he wanted to miss out on all of the fun, especially with this being his last year.
