“Good morning, everyone,” Professor Bryant said, her eyes roving over everyone in the lecture hall until they stopped on him. There was a hint of amusement in those browns eyes before it quickly disappeared, leaving a sharp stare before she looked at the rest of the class. Now, Noah felt like even more of a fool.
She was definitely laughing at him.
“Today, we’re going to talk about Classical Conditioning.”
She turned on her heels and grabbed a dry erase marker, writing on the board.
“She doesn’t seem as bad as you said,” Noah said, finally accepting the fact that she was his professor, and he had humiliated himself. He would have to find a way to apologize for calling her a hard-ass to her face. He could salvage this. She looked like a nice woman. Maybe she could forgive him for being attracted to her. How was he to know she was a professor when she looked so young and good.
He watched her write, admiring her penmanship until he noticed what she was writing— Pop Quiz. His eyes widened.
“You’re reading assignment was Chapter 3, so to make sure you've read the assignment given to you, you’ll be taking a pop quiz before we go over the PowerPoint today.”
A student raised their hand, and Professor Bryant nodded. “How many questions?”
“There are thirty questions, but they’re all from the reading, so if you did it, this quiz should be easy for you.”
A series of groans were let out as everyone prepared themselves for the pop quiz, if it could even be called one. It sounded like a fucking exam to him. Noah tried to shake his annoyance, knowing this was his fault. He hadn't read one chapter, and he hadn't even brought the textbook for this class. There was no way he was going to be able to pass this.
“And you say she isn’t that bad,” Dale said sarcastically as he pulled out a pen from his bag. Noah sighed, eating his words.
“Noah Walker.”
Noah looked up, surprised to hear his name from her lips. She looked up from the paper in her hand, which he assumed was an attendance sheet, and gestured for him to come down. Noah swallowed thickly, wondering what she could want from him before getting up and going down the stairs. He hoped she wouldn't be mad from him mistaking her as a student. In hindsight, he should have known from the clothes. But to be honest, he had been paying more attention to her beauty.
When he stood in front of her, she said, "My TA is running late. I want to ask you if you could be kind enough to pass out these quizzes for me."
She held out the pile of papers for him, and Noah could see the smug expression on her face. Immediately, the beauty he had seen in her before disappeared. Now, he saw nothing but a witch, one that would make his life hell so he wouldn't be able to focus all of his attention on hockey anymore, but instead, a class he didn't even want to take.
“Thank you,” he gritted out, and grabbed the papers from her hand, before turning to pass them out.
“Oh, and Noah.”
He paused and turned to see her grin, a terrifying grin that nearly made him shiver. Right now, she definitely looked like a witch. All she was missing was a broom and a carrot nose.
“Welcome to Intro to Psychology 1002.”
CHAPTER
1
NOAH
S
WEAT DRIPPED FROM NOAH’S HAIRLINE DOWN TO THE TIP OF HIS NOSE. The locker room was filled with steam as everyone headed to the showers to wash off the sweat they had accumulated during practice. Noah sat on the bench, hunched over, breathing heavily as he replayed today's practice in his head over and over again. It had been a habit of his for a long time now, unable to get hockey out of his head even when he was off the ice. He needed to process his mistakes to ensure he never made them again. This year was his second year on the college hockey team, and soon, it would be his last. He had to make sure he made no mistakes when it came time for him to skate across the ice in front of all of those people who would watch from the seats in the arena and on their televisions. He needed to prove to everyone why he should be drafted with his own skill.
“Noah.”
When the head coach called his name, he was startled out of his thoughts. Noah looked up from the tile floor to see Coach Benson standing in front of him. After being on his team for a year, Noah could easily read the expressions on Coach Benson's face to know his mood, and right now, from the pinched gaze and furrowed brows, he wasn't happy. Noah mirrored his face, not from unhappiness but confusion. He knew he made a few mistakes, but not so many that Coach Benson would be upset with him.
“What’s wrong, Coach?” Noah asked.
Coach Benson snatched a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket. He nearly ripped it apart as he unfolded it before thrusting it in Noah's face.
“What is this, Walker? Huh? What the hell is this?”
Noah pulled the paper from his face so he could see it, and when he saw the list of his midterm grades, he sighed. Most of them were good. A sprinkle of C’s and B's with one A as the cherry on top. But there next to Intro to Psychology was a big fat F glaring at him. He hadn’t bothered checking his midterm grades for this reason alone.
