BAD PROFESSOR
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
CHAPTER ONE
Clarity
I heard my own heels clicking fast across the foyer floor. The next song came over the living room speakers and I breathed a sigh of relief. Addictive rhythms ran through the crowd and grabbed hold of both faculty and students. Other than the occasional tapping toe and slight bounce of the head, it was hard to see, but the party had hit the right tone.
Maybe party wasn't the right word. There was plaid tweed, too many khakis, and a wide array of sweaters. It was definitely an official Landsman College sanctioned gathering. The Dean of Students tried every year to introduce the Honor Council nominees to the faculty in a fun way. This year, fueled by a joke list of movies he was told to watch over the summer, Dean Dunkirk had announced a house party.
Students snuck beers or spiked lemonades in the prerequisite red plastic cups, while faculty drank aged wine or fine spirits out of the same. The music was a mash-up of classic acoustic guitar rock, and toned-down student favorites. I had even moved some of the furniture aside and made hang-out spots with over-sized throw pillows. Ping pong was a big draw on the back, three-season porch. Mason jars of tea lights added a simple elegance and the food was easy, grill-inspired finger foods.
Everything was perfect, and I searched for something to do. I imagined being a full-blown journalist and swept the collegiate crowd again in search of headlines. As I smiled and mingled, I wrote leads in my head.
Cut from the same cloth, student and coach wore the same sweater.
Endless summer, English professor returns from California vacation and continues her taste for Napa wines.
"Is that her bored smile?" Jasmine asked the petite girl beside her.
"I can't tell; I think it's pasted on." Lexi's short brown curls bounced as she tipped her head, studied Clarity, and flipped to the other side.
"Very funny. Where have you two been?" I asked my best friends.
"A little pre-party with some football players." Jasmine's tall, willowy figure shuddered with delight. "Looks like it's going to be a good season."
I couldn't fault my friends, but I focused on the house party. "You were supposed to be here helping me."
Jasmine tossed her blonde hair. "Like you needed us. Everyone's having an honorably great time. More importantly, have you decided what you're doing for Thanksgiving break? I vote we stay on campus and enjoy some of the real parties. No offense, Clarity."
I laughed, "None taken. I'm sticking around for break so I can get a head start on some of my journalism classes. Intermediate News Reporting is going to be a big step up."
Lexi rolled on her tip toes to nudge Jasmine in the ribs. "We heard the one to look forward to is Multi-Media Production and Storytelling."
"Oh yeah," Jasmine's eyes sparkled. "The, uh, syllabus looks really, really good."
"Maybe that's why she's going to stay on campus with us during break," Lexi said. "You know, so she can attend her professor's office hours."
"Are you saying the professor's supposed to be hot?" I asked. "You know that little fantasy doesn't work for me. The Dean of Students is my father, remember?"
"All we're saying is take some good notes for us. We want to hear every detail," Jasmine grinned.
I rolled my eyes. "We're past junior high, right? Last time I checked, we were juniors in college."
Lexi collapsed against my arm and giggled harder. "Hey, we can't all be fulfilled by careers alone."
"Speaking of fulfillment, you should have seen the new quarterback," Jasmine said.
I sighed as I saw a guest empty a wine bottle. "Look, I've got to go restock the bar. Are you going to stick around for a while? Please?"
"Ooh, she wants to hear about the quarterback," Lexi winked. "I guess we can stick around for a while."
"You have to, Lex; you're nominated for Honor Council," I reminded her.