My heart pounded in my chest as I awaited the Professor’s reaction to my silly outburst.
The class was still very quiet, very quiet for my liking. It made almost berate myself for being so stupid, for being so sensitive.
I could deduct from the silence that the old, worn out looking professor was a nace to his students. Yet I refused to cower under his heated gaze, not even with the amount of eyes zeroed on every inch of .
When the professor started walking toward , when his feet sounded so sure and tacky on the floor as they moved in my direction, I clenched my fists tightly then splayed them on my laps. Then clutched them again; this ti around, they were clutching my trousers with them.
I felt a shin of sweat on my eyebrows despite the good ventilation in the class and knew that my nerves were breaking out to my exterior.
"You know, I was at the party..."
I cocked my head to the side, pretending to be aloof, to be a little interested in whatever he was saying, a good cover to the tumult of emotions running inside , a good cover I hoped he bought. He and the students that I was sure were staring at both of us.
I didn’t think such drama occurred regularly. They should have their fill then.
"I saw you. And I thought...this one is just all talk and nothing."
I conjured up a smirk on my lips, even though all I wanted to do was hide under my desk. The professor was so close to that when he spoke, I could perceive his peppermint breath and scent.
He was that close.
"But, I still found it admirable. Soone who could blast the Lycan’s ego to hell, would always have a special place in my book." He snickered, whilst I snorted.
A snort that died, that digressed to the gritting of teeth, when he suddenly grabbed my hair, or rather an invisible hand yanked my hair back. I bit back a scream.
Was this legal? Was this allowed? Wasn’t this so sort of abuse?
Well, you started it first. My mind taunted, and I hissed in derision. A hiss that the professor thought was for him, because he ground his teeth, and then tightened his invisible hold on my hair.
Pain broke out in different shapes and sizes, such that I almost shut my eyes to welco or fight it. But doing that, would communicate defeat, would crash my soft landing in the eyes of the students. I didn’t want that.
You know, I had half expected him to blast with magic, the sort that would throw off my seat, and probably out of the windows to my death, for insulting him in front of his students and my classmates. But instead he had dragged my hair.
It made laugh.
It started with a chuckle, that caused the breakout of whispers and murmurs in the class, and then ended with a full blown laughter.
"What’s funny, Akwoods? I might like your gut, but I wouldn’t encourage a student to insult or my intelligence." The professor stated, lessening his hold on my hair for reasons only known to him.
"I’m sorry sir." I chuckled loudly again, eting his gaze. There was genuine curiosity in his eyes. I must be an enigma to him at this point.
"It’s just that you yanking my hair with magic reminded of won fighting. You know, they always go for the hair of their rival first. It was just funny picturing you as an old woman fighting."
Silence first.
Then a student who couldn’t hold his laughter-the laughter was male and familiar-let it loose. Then the gates were opened, and the students were laughing. I could even hear Rachel’s boisterous one.
Yet, the professor stared at , with sothing akin to anger in his eyes.
I bit my lips.
No more. I chanted to myself, just before he laughed—an evil, nacing laugh that sent a chill down my spine.
His laughter echoed in the classroom, drowning out the murmurs of my classmates, drowning out my thoughts, only leaving in its wake a sense of evil foreboding that pooled in my stomach.
My cheeks burned with embarrassnt as I realized the gravity of my actions. I had obviously crossed a line this ti around, and now I would have to face the consequences.
When the Professor’s laughter subsided, the malevolent glint still remained in his eyes. He looked like one that would hold a grudge for centuries.
What have I done?
The professor gave a last look, and then turned away and walked back to the front of the class quietly.
The calm before the storm.
When he got to the front of the class, there was a pause. His back was toward us, whilst he faced the black board.
"Summarize our history and branches in no less than three thousand words. To be submitted tomorrow. I don’t think I would have to teach the topic again. I’m quite drained, and in need of a nap."
His back was still turned to us. He was still looking at the board.
I almost scoffed, but for my precarious situation, and the murmurs that broke out in class again.
To summarize the history of the community in more than three thousand words? Thank the goddess that I had Laura and Peter with . I could write whilst they explained.
"Akwoods, you will write seven thousand."
I gasped then. To write the history of soplace I have no knowledge of? The man must be joking.
But before I could voice my grievance, he turned around, and faced us, his face devoid of any emotion. A professor doing his job. He didn’t even look at , even as he spoke his next words.
"You will submit the assignnt tomorrow morning. Akwoods will collect them all, and submit to . She is the new prefect of my class."
He still didn’t look at .
New prefect of the class?
It sounded like a ton of punishnt. I didn’t want it.
"Detention."
He spoke again, without looking at .
"Two hours in detention, Akwoods."
"Isn’t that much?"
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