C
Chai
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RESERVED
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OP
OP
Chai
Guest
Stephanie Rivera's eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through the window of her apartment room, bright even though her curtains were halfway drawn. She stretched her limbs and grimaced; she was feeling the after effects from the night before, a blur of partying and a very drunk best friend who had just turned 21. And while Stephanie couldn't legally drink, it was totally normal for college students to have a little fun before they hit the magic age. Of course, she could remember everything that happened last night (the college students' ultimate test of being too drunk or not), but then again, it didn't take much to get her tipsy. And judging from her dry throat and heavy lids, she had experienced her fair share of a little fun and then some.
It wasn't a particularly awful idea to go out. In fact it was something she welcomed every now and again. On the other hand, it was an awful idea to go out downtown the night before the first day of class, but she couldn't just say no to Victoria, her roommate of 3 years and best friend since they both started college. Knowing her, the birthday girl would have whined and pouted until Stephanie agreed, so nine times out of ten, it was a better idea to just say yes and accept the consequences later. Although this time, the price to pay was a little steep for Stephanie's taste. She pressed the home button on her phone, eyes widening at the time. 8:30. Shit.
Blankets were thrown around as she got up out of bed and made for the bathroom, panic already rising in her chest. It wasn't all that bad, she supposed, if she was late on the first day. Students were still getting schedules finalized during the first week, and that easily could have been her excuse. Still, it wasn't like her to be late on any given day, and especially not for a major-specific course. Sex and Literature and Media was what the class was called, and she had been waiting to take it for some time. But despite her enthusiasm for it, here she was, scrambling to even leave her apartment.
It didn't take her long to get ready and throw on a light layer of makeup, and by the time she was out the door, she had on some Nike running shorts and an over-sized t-shirt. The ensemble, as simple as it was, managed to show off her toned and tanned legs. A backpack was slung across her back, and her long, chestnut colored hair that was normally tied up was hanging over one shoulder as she walked. Stephanie had a car, but since the university was in the middle of downtown, it was almost a hassle to drive considering her apartment complex was right on the edge of campus. She checked the time again. 8:51. She suspected it would take her 20 minutes to walk to class, which put her at arriving about 10 minutes late. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she thought.
When she finally arrived, she stood outside the room, hesitating for a moment as she heard a voice through the closed door.
"...Hey guys, my name is Isaac, and I'm your TA for this semester. A little bit about myself... I'm in the graduate literature program, so I'm pretty familiar with the things you'll be reading and studying for this course. I'll also be leading the two discussion sections, where I'll be introducing some supplementary material for whatever's going on in class. If you take a look on the top of the first page of the syllabus, you'll see that my office hours are every Monday and Wednesday from 3 to 5 PM, and on Fridays by appointment. And if you can't make those, you can always email me. I'm constantly checking it, so feel free to ask any questions. I'm always available to help students, unless—"
Isaac was cut short as Stephanie opened the door, and she saw and felt the entire room look to her. The class was small, as we expected since only English majors took the upper division literature courses, and she hurried to take a seat in the front.
"...Unless you come to class high, hungover, apathetic... or late," Isaac finally finished off, giving Stephanie a pointed look and a wide grin. A few of the other students chuckled behind her, and Stephanie herself cracked a smile.
"Sorry," she said with a very unapologetic little grin on her face, reaching in her backpack to pull out her Macbook, a floral-printed agenda and a pen before storing the bag underneath the table.
"Nah, I'm just joking around. It is the first day after all." Isaac moved forward to drop a syllabus on her desk before taking his place back at the front of the room. "If anybody has any questions...? No? Well, alright, I think it's time to turn things back over to the professor."
It wasn't a particularly awful idea to go out. In fact it was something she welcomed every now and again. On the other hand, it was an awful idea to go out downtown the night before the first day of class, but she couldn't just say no to Victoria, her roommate of 3 years and best friend since they both started college. Knowing her, the birthday girl would have whined and pouted until Stephanie agreed, so nine times out of ten, it was a better idea to just say yes and accept the consequences later. Although this time, the price to pay was a little steep for Stephanie's taste. She pressed the home button on her phone, eyes widening at the time. 8:30. Shit.
Blankets were thrown around as she got up out of bed and made for the bathroom, panic already rising in her chest. It wasn't all that bad, she supposed, if she was late on the first day. Students were still getting schedules finalized during the first week, and that easily could have been her excuse. Still, it wasn't like her to be late on any given day, and especially not for a major-specific course. Sex and Literature and Media was what the class was called, and she had been waiting to take it for some time. But despite her enthusiasm for it, here she was, scrambling to even leave her apartment.
It didn't take her long to get ready and throw on a light layer of makeup, and by the time she was out the door, she had on some Nike running shorts and an over-sized t-shirt. The ensemble, as simple as it was, managed to show off her toned and tanned legs. A backpack was slung across her back, and her long, chestnut colored hair that was normally tied up was hanging over one shoulder as she walked. Stephanie had a car, but since the university was in the middle of downtown, it was almost a hassle to drive considering her apartment complex was right on the edge of campus. She checked the time again. 8:51. She suspected it would take her 20 minutes to walk to class, which put her at arriving about 10 minutes late. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she thought.
When she finally arrived, she stood outside the room, hesitating for a moment as she heard a voice through the closed door.
"...Hey guys, my name is Isaac, and I'm your TA for this semester. A little bit about myself... I'm in the graduate literature program, so I'm pretty familiar with the things you'll be reading and studying for this course. I'll also be leading the two discussion sections, where I'll be introducing some supplementary material for whatever's going on in class. If you take a look on the top of the first page of the syllabus, you'll see that my office hours are every Monday and Wednesday from 3 to 5 PM, and on Fridays by appointment. And if you can't make those, you can always email me. I'm constantly checking it, so feel free to ask any questions. I'm always available to help students, unless—"
Isaac was cut short as Stephanie opened the door, and she saw and felt the entire room look to her. The class was small, as we expected since only English majors took the upper division literature courses, and she hurried to take a seat in the front.
"...Unless you come to class high, hungover, apathetic... or late," Isaac finally finished off, giving Stephanie a pointed look and a wide grin. A few of the other students chuckled behind her, and Stephanie herself cracked a smile.
"Sorry," she said with a very unapologetic little grin on her face, reaching in her backpack to pull out her Macbook, a floral-printed agenda and a pen before storing the bag underneath the table.
"Nah, I'm just joking around. It is the first day after all." Isaac moved forward to drop a syllabus on her desk before taking his place back at the front of the room. "If anybody has any questions...? No? Well, alright, I think it's time to turn things back over to the professor."
rpfiend_123
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2016
The first day of the new semester had Mike Stevenson in quite a good mood. It was a welcome change for the older tenured professor; who, at 52, would have been the envy of many other men his age. He had a great job, a full head of hair, and was liked by his colleagues and students. However, due to his messy separation and impending divorce to another professor at the school, his state of mind could have been described as 'irritable' at best. Though even with the messy personal situation going on, he didn't fail to be at his desk before the sun even rose, preparing his lecture notes for one of his favorite classes. His traditional three cups of coffee had been brewed, and his charcoal grey sport coat, donned over a snug fitting navy shirt and khakis were was impeccably fitted to his muscular frame. Regular access to the university gym and a light teaching load had given him ample time to work out his recent frustrations.
He was finishing up a few things as he listened to his TA start the class with his cheery banter. He could tell he was wrapping up, and walked to his office door, which led out into the lecture hall. At 6'3" he was an imposing figure - but his broad, white smile often disarmed even the most intimidated of students. He was surveying this semester's class, sizing up the group when he heard the door open; he turned his head and couldn't help but raise a brow as a familiar face appeared. He recognized her in an instant. As an English major, she'd been in a few of his classes - and, if he remembered correctly, did quite well. He'd always remembered her to be a pretty girl - but his honor kept his eyes from lingering too long. Now, however, he didn't feel any guilt in letting his greyish blue eyes watch her as she bounced down the steps - even in her casual outfit, he appreciated her simple beauty.
"...over to the professor." Isaac's voice, followed by a pause, snapped him out of his daze, and he blinked a few times, smiling to the class. "Thank you Isaac." He strode over to his desk, on which sat several thick volumes. "Welcome, seniors, to what is sure to be your favorite class." He turned his back to the group with a smirk, producing a little remote from his pocket and clicking it towards a lap top on a podium. "Sex and Literature and Media." Up on the screen behind him, the words were displayed - smattered over a collage of images that ranged from titillating, to sensual, to downright erotic. They were old oil paintings, black and white photographs, edited out nip-slips from celebrity photos in gossip mags.
"I know what you're all thinking, and no, this isn't a free opportunity to get all.." he turned back to the class, making eye contact with a rather heavy set male who he'd had in several other classes. "..pervy." He frowned. Looking to the rest of his class, his eyes flitted over the tanned legs of Stephanie before he came out from behind the desk and paced in front of them. "You're going to have to think about sexuality in new ways. In the context of the ancient and the modern." He didn't even look at the screen, but his thumb pressed on the remote each time he brought up a new idea, accenting his words with images of nude human bodies, illustrations from the kama sutra, a still from what seemed to be a blurred out porno. "And you're all adults here, so I needn't remind you that we can talk about sex without being crude or disrespectful."
He continued the rest of his lecture without much interruption - stopping only to take questions. When he'd covered the syllabus and given them their first reading assignment, he dismissed the class. Moving to the front row as the students packed their books, he approached Stephanie. "Miss.. Rivera, is it?" He folded his arms and stood in front of her - his chest puffed out. "I trust you'll be on time on Friday, hm?" If he were any other professor, he may have been able to pull off the stern-voiced talking-to he had envisioned in his mind, but the comment came out with all the warmth he was known for campus wide. His forced grimace soon broke into a soft smile.
"I'm not mad." He chuckled, as if she could have actually mistaken his mood for crossness. "I'm glad to see you're taking this class. You did so well in Russian Literature, I look forward to see how you tackle this subject matter!" Even after teaching the class for 10 years, he always was a bit anxious to see how students would react to his enthusiasm for the class. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as attempting to force inappropriate conversations with students - let alone beautiful young brunette ones.
He was finishing up a few things as he listened to his TA start the class with his cheery banter. He could tell he was wrapping up, and walked to his office door, which led out into the lecture hall. At 6'3" he was an imposing figure - but his broad, white smile often disarmed even the most intimidated of students. He was surveying this semester's class, sizing up the group when he heard the door open; he turned his head and couldn't help but raise a brow as a familiar face appeared. He recognized her in an instant. As an English major, she'd been in a few of his classes - and, if he remembered correctly, did quite well. He'd always remembered her to be a pretty girl - but his honor kept his eyes from lingering too long. Now, however, he didn't feel any guilt in letting his greyish blue eyes watch her as she bounced down the steps - even in her casual outfit, he appreciated her simple beauty.
"...over to the professor." Isaac's voice, followed by a pause, snapped him out of his daze, and he blinked a few times, smiling to the class. "Thank you Isaac." He strode over to his desk, on which sat several thick volumes. "Welcome, seniors, to what is sure to be your favorite class." He turned his back to the group with a smirk, producing a little remote from his pocket and clicking it towards a lap top on a podium. "Sex and Literature and Media." Up on the screen behind him, the words were displayed - smattered over a collage of images that ranged from titillating, to sensual, to downright erotic. They were old oil paintings, black and white photographs, edited out nip-slips from celebrity photos in gossip mags.
"I know what you're all thinking, and no, this isn't a free opportunity to get all.." he turned back to the class, making eye contact with a rather heavy set male who he'd had in several other classes. "..pervy." He frowned. Looking to the rest of his class, his eyes flitted over the tanned legs of Stephanie before he came out from behind the desk and paced in front of them. "You're going to have to think about sexuality in new ways. In the context of the ancient and the modern." He didn't even look at the screen, but his thumb pressed on the remote each time he brought up a new idea, accenting his words with images of nude human bodies, illustrations from the kama sutra, a still from what seemed to be a blurred out porno. "And you're all adults here, so I needn't remind you that we can talk about sex without being crude or disrespectful."
He continued the rest of his lecture without much interruption - stopping only to take questions. When he'd covered the syllabus and given them their first reading assignment, he dismissed the class. Moving to the front row as the students packed their books, he approached Stephanie. "Miss.. Rivera, is it?" He folded his arms and stood in front of her - his chest puffed out. "I trust you'll be on time on Friday, hm?" If he were any other professor, he may have been able to pull off the stern-voiced talking-to he had envisioned in his mind, but the comment came out with all the warmth he was known for campus wide. His forced grimace soon broke into a soft smile.
"I'm not mad." He chuckled, as if she could have actually mistaken his mood for crossness. "I'm glad to see you're taking this class. You did so well in Russian Literature, I look forward to see how you tackle this subject matter!" Even after teaching the class for 10 years, he always was a bit anxious to see how students would react to his enthusiasm for the class. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as attempting to force inappropriate conversations with students - let alone beautiful young brunette ones.