Chapter 9
Cara
The first week of a new semester is always the most exciting. There are new classmates, new teachers, and new topics to learn about. This time there’s one course that stands out above the rest, even beyond the first few classes.
My mythology elective is currently taking up every ounce of my brainpower. Not because it’s hard, but because it’s just so damn interesting.
It still feels like Professor Lucian is out to get me after my unfortunate staring incident the first day, but the coursework is just too captivating for me to care.
So what if he puts me on the spot or calls me out more than other students?
It’s still far better than any of the other courses I’m taking this semester.
Although he’s still a bit of an asshole, I enjoy his method of teaching.
He gets the students involved, asking us for types of creatures based around the topic of the week, and then we dive deeper into them.
Last week we discussed commonly known creatures like unicorns, leprechauns, Bigfoot, and centaurs.
Professor Lucian told us the focus this week is on flying creatures like Pegasus, angels, dragons, and demons.
I don’t even hate that I already had to submit a writing assignment last Friday and have another one due every Friday until the end of the semester when he’ll pick the ten best-scored assignments to make up our final grade.
If it were one of the more boring classes, I’d hate it, but I’m enjoying writing about fabled creatures.
Reagan says I’m enjoying it a little too much because I’m having trouble picking just one creature a week to write about, but how the hell am I supposed to choose only one a week when they’re all so fascinating?
Last Friday, I submitted an assignment on unicorns and then spent my weekend writing another report about centaurs and wishing I could write them all.
That wish, and a pleasant buzz, is how I ended up emailing Professor Lucian on Saturday to ask about extra credit.
I never expected him to answer. Honestly, I forgot about it until I was out at the market with Reagan on Sunday morning and he responded.
Based on his behavior during class, I expected very little in his reply.
A quick yes or no, with maybe a snide remark to end the conversation, but his email was almost warm.
He agreed to let me write about several creatures instead of just the one, with the caveat being I can still only submit a single assignment each week. Then at the bottom, just before his sign-off, he asked me what it was about these creatures that drew me in.
His question was so unexpected that it took several drafted attempts to reply, and since then we’ve started having these strange daily conversations.
Every day, like clockwork, he answers my emails.
Secretly I try to end each one with a question about something we learned in class or a creature we discussed.
That way, I feel less weird about the back-and-forth emails with a professor.
It’s not weird if it’s about the coursework, right?
If that were true, though, I would have told Reagan about it.
Before class today, I was nervous. I had no idea if things would be weird or if he’d give any hint of our conversations.
He didn’t.
Honestly, after today I’m starting to think I may not even be talking to Professor Lucian.
His virtual presence is nothing like the man who stands at the front of the class.
How can one person be so different? Is it an act, and if so, which one is the real him?
The strict one during lectures, or the one who answers my emails with kindness?
Neither should matter. I shouldn’t be trying to figure him out. He’s a professor, for fuck’s sake.
As a way to distract myself from it all, I took Cooper to the park, where Reagan and Carter joined us for a picnic. I even brought a Frisbee to throw for my giant pup, but he only caught it twice and then gave up to lie behind me on the blanket.
Right now he’s using his paw to dig at the nametag I gave him.
I hear the tick, tick, tick of it when his nail makes contact with the plastic casing.
Eventually I’ll upgrade to something with better quality, but for now, I just wanted something to ensure he wouldn’t get lost. On the front is the name “Cooper” in a pretty cursive font, and the back has my contact info.
If he ever gets out, whoever finds him can bring him back home.
Half the time I think he hates it. I can’t really blame him. His damn collar wouldn’t budge, so I had to hook it on with an elastic.
“Oh my gosh, you should have heard the professor reaming out this guy,” Reagan tells Carter while she dusts the powdered sugar off her hands from the donut she just ate.
“Like, I don’t know what he expected would happen.
We’re talking about mythological creatures, and we all know there are loads of smutty books and porn about them. ”
I giggle. “It’s true. Hell, I grew up wanting Belle to get with the Beast because he was way less attractive as a man. Of course that’s bound to come up.”
“Just wait for the tentacles,” Carter says, making us all laugh. He’s never bothered when Reagan talks about other men. It’s a rare quality I wish more guys possessed. If you’re confident in your relationship and there’s mutual trust, it’s not a threat to think someone is attractive.
“Hot Prof is going to love that,” Reagan says.
“I don’t know why, but his grumpy, no-nonsense demeanor just makes him hotter.
And before you even start, don’t try to deny it, harlot.
You’ve been smitten from the start.” She throws a grape at me but hits Cooper instead, who lifts his head to stare at her, entirely unimpressed.
I gasp, feigning offense. “I haven’t been smitten, but fine. I’ll admit it. He’s not an eyesore or anything, but I’m there for the coursework. I’d take him berating me any day over having to attend my corporate tax class.”
“Well, we’ll all know the day he finally berates me, because Carter and I will be role-playing it for at least a week.”
“You’re terrible,” I struggle to say through a fit of laughter. Cooper exhales a puff of air through his nose, and I say, “See? Even Cooper agrees.”
“Why wait?” Carter says, waggling his eyebrows at Reagan. “Let’s just start role-playing now.”
Her giggle turns into a squeal as he lunges for her, but she’s on her feet and running away before he can grab her. “Don’t run from me!” Carter shouts, “I’m Hot Prof!”
I watch as they chase each other around the park, laughing when Reagan manages to evade him yet again and igniting Carter’s competitive nature.
Oh boy.
Cooper still looks annoyed, but then our eyes meet and his whole demeanor shifts. He moves closer until I can rub his belly, and then I forget about Reagan and Carter entirely.
It’s been some time since I put up the flyers, and no one has contacted me yet about Cooper. With every day that passes, I grow more and more hopeful that maybe he’ll be mine forever.