“Yeah,” Noah said with a lazy grin. “Why?”
Julie blushed more, biting her lip. “I just wanted to know.”
“You want to party with me, Julie?” Noah whispered, his eyes smiling with amusement. Julie’s eyes flickered back and forth between his blue ones before she slowly nodded.
“Mr. Walker.” Noah stiffened before he turned away from Julie to see everyone’s attention on him. Professor Bryant’s arms were folded on top of each other, her eyes unkind, and her nose wrinkled.
“Yes,” Noah answered, cooly, as he leaned back in his seat.
“Would you like to share with the class what the concrete operational stage consists of, and what's the best example of this stage being achieved with adolescents?”
Professor Bryant had spent the entire lecture going over the concrete operational stage, amongst other things, and though he had written notes in his book, he could not retain any of the information. Honestly, her voice droned in his ears the way a lullaby did for a kid. Eventually, it all became white noise, making him want to sleep. He could rattle off the definition, which he knew because he studied it last night, but the definition alone wouldn't be enough for her. It never was.
“No,” Noah said, and shrugged. “I’m positive that you will be able to give a better example of it than me.”
A few snickers could be heard throughout, but Professor Bryant was not amused. Her brown eyes bored into his own as he stared back at her, not wanting to break contact, not wanting to back down.
There was something about Professor Bryant that annoyed him. She looked at him as if he were a joke or a slacker, and all of his life, Noah had never been any of those things. He worked his ass off to get where he was at now with his own skill. He was a hard worker, diligent in his craft, and a determined winner. So, why was it that every time he stepped in here, under her gaze, he felt like none of those things?
Their eye staring showdown lasted for another beat until Professor Bryant looked away, shaking her head. And though Noah should have felt smug, he didn't. Not when once again, she made him feel like the dirt under her shoe.
“Julie, will you be able to help out your classmate with an example?”
Julie cleared her throat and began to rattle off an example that showed, in between her time of flirting with him, she had actually been paying attention to Professor Bryant's lecture.
"Since it seems that Julie has actually done the readings, I hope that your conversations are more productive than your listening skills, Mr. Walker." And with those words, she walked back to the front and continued with the lecture.
Noah gritted his teeth, trying to tamp down his anger. He shot Julie a nonchalant smile though he did not feel it, and he ignored Anderson's pleased grin from his humiliation.
He listened to Professor Bryant go on and on, wishing that he had never picked this class and had never met her.
When class was over, he grabbed his stuff and shot out of his seat. As he walked down the steps, Dale, who had been sitting a row behind him, quickly caught up to him, falling in step with him.
“Damn, man. I thought you two were going to fight,” Dale murmured. Noah was surprised it looked that way.
“Seriously?” Noah asked as they walked past the professor’s desk. He glanced at Professor Bryant in passing as she placed her items into her bag, and when their eyes locked, she once again gave him that look that made him feel useless and dumb.
“Yeah, it looked just like that. I think she doesn’t like you.”
“Yeah,” Noah agreed as he walked out of the classroom. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
CHAPTER
4
MELANIE
W
HEN SOMEONE KNOCKED ON MELANIE’S OFFICE DOOR FRIDAY AFTERNOON, she assumed it would be Jessica. She didn’t have office hours at this time, and usually, Jessica would visit her during her lunch breaks to ask Melanie if she wanted to pick up some food on campus. But when the door opened, and a man Melanie did not recognize entered, she was surprised.
It was rare that she ever got visitors outside of her students, those in her department, and the cleaning crew. Of course, occasionally, there was a lost student who would ask her where a class was because of the unconventional way the classroom order was set up, but this man clearly was not a student. Beneath his cap were a sprinkle of gray hairs threaded throughout his dark brown hair, and there was a slight puff to his jawline that came with old age. If Melanie could guess, he was at least in his forties. He was a fairly handsome man with a tall stature, and a good build. He stood at her door with a touch of surprise in his gaze as he stared at her. It made her wonder if he had stepped into her office by accident.
“Are you Professor Bryant?” he asked, hesitantly.
Or not.
“Yes, I am,” Melanie said as she stood from her seat, walking around her desk, curiously staring at the man in front of her. “How may I help you?”
