Seduced By My Professor

Sitting in front of the computer, my mind races as I watch the exam load on the illuminated screen. Worry floods my brain and the stress begins to overpower my senses. Suddenly the lights are too bright, the room is too cold, and the girl sitting next to me is too damn loud. Am I as unprepared for this exam as I think I am? Why does she seem so at ease? Was there a study guide I forgot about, or a study session during office hours that I missed? Midterms, I have found, scare me more than anything else, especially when I am taking a class that is entirely out of my element. Honestly, I don't even know the official name of this course.

Other peers, whose poker faces I envy, fill the scattered empty seats. Knowing that I would be nervous for this exam, I made sure to get to class 20 minutes early so I could plop myself down in the back corner. I may not be able to mask how I feel, but I do know how to hide. My entire life has become a game of surviving by hiding in plain sight. Maybe today I will learn a new skill: surviving by "faking it until I make it."

I watch as the last few seats are taken. Three minutes until class is supposed to start. I look up at the clock, blaming it for playing god. The professor isn't here yet, maybe class will be canceled. Maybe 6:00 will roll around and I can just leave. Maybe, maybe, maybe... my leg bounces as I anxiously play perfect, ideal scenarios in my head. Currently, it's a reality where the professor is sick and decided to not show up, but he canceled the exam and gave everyone an A+. Smiling to myself at this wonderful fantasy I just created, I absentmindedly glance up at the clock at the front of the room. Suddenly, I am snapped out of my little world as I am locking eyes with my professor, Dr. Ward.

I have found older men attractive before, like in line at the grocery store with graying hair and wrinkles framing their eyes. They smile at me, and I smile back wondering if we are thinking the same thing. Does he want me? Does he want someone young enough to be his daughter? The thought always excites me, momentarily erases my insecurities that I hide underneath my coy, silent exchanges with handsome strangers. They always go home to their wives, probably forgetting about me the second the wheels of their cart touch the parking lot's asphalt. I, however, am always left wondering and dreaming.

Dr. Ward is similar to the men I have these insignificant encounters with. My eyes, still locked with his, decide to break away from the moment we are sharing. I take him in from the very back of the room, separated by eight rows of computers and unsuspecting peers. In a matter of seconds, I admire his salt-and-pepper hair and how it deepens his dark eyes. His shoulders are broad and his arms look strong, as do his hands. I blush as my eyes quickly make contact with his silver belt buckle, trying to inconspicuously see if there is a bulge that is being disguised by his black trousers. In a millisecond, my exploration of Dr. Ward ends when my daring eyes reach his polished dress shoes.

A rush of bravery and adrenaline pulses through me. I make the decision to look over him once more, this time starting from his feet and working my way back up. My stomach drops as we make eye contact again. This time I see a brief sparkle in his eyes telling me that I was not as secretive as I previously thought. This second moment that we are sharing has entirely taken me away from the issue at hand: the exam that I am minutes away from having to take. Snapping myself out of it, I look at the clock and then my computer screen, hoping to maybe play off everything that just occurred seconds before.

"Good evening! Today is your midterm, so if you have not already turned on the computer in front of you and logged in, I will give you another minute to do so. As you all know, you can only take this test once. When you are ready, you may begin. At the end of the exam you are free to go without checking in with me. Best of luck."

And with that, Dr. Ward sat himself at his desk, entirely out of my line of view. The rattling of bulky headphones fills the room momentarily. I do the same. Perfect. No distractions, just me and this dreadful exam. I begin to read through the questions, trying my best to answer them accurately. A few times I find myself with my eyes closed, attempting to manifest the answers out of nothingness. Of course my mind wanders back to Dr. Ward, who I can barely see between all the computers. What is he doing at his desk? Is he thinking about me? Does he know I am thinking about him? Stop it. Finish the exam.

Forty-five minutes have gone by and everyone is still testing, including me who is only on question 37 out of 100. This cannot get worse. What is this question even asking? Did we learn about this? Frustrated, I take a second to rest my chin in the palm of my hand. I stare at the screen, trying to find the answer somewhere. Maybe if I read between the lines...

The computer goes white, a blue pop up buffers on the screen before me. No, no, no! This can't be happening. Panicstricken, I look at the girl's screen to my left, then I lean forward to peek at the screens in the rows before me. All I see are exams, grayish screens with pixelated black writing. I look back at my screen, still white, still not loading. What am I supposed to do? Do I get up and ask for help? Do I raise my hand? Do I wait it out? Do I leave? An exam that has already cost me peace of mind has now ruined my entire life. My hands are slick and my heart is in my throat. I feel tears pricking behind my eyes. No, don't cry! Be brave. Will Dr. Ward even see my hand if I raise it? Why did I pick the seat furthest from his desk!

Slowly I remove my headphones, building up the courage to ask for help. I have to go up to his desk. Maybe he forgot about our private moment, unseen by those around us. I shake the memory away, knowing I can't possibly act like a normal person while thinking about him this way. I can do this. Standing up, I quietly meander behind all my peers, trying not to disturb them as I put on a brave face. I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back, remembering that a wise friend once told me that I need to make myself "big" to appear confident. I definitely felt big...like a big idiot. A few heads turn towards me as I walk up the aisle towards my unaware professor. He's focused, clearly in another world as he works away at his desk. I am about three steps away from him when Dr. Ward looks up at me.

I feel ridiculous for even thinking that anything happened between me and this man earlier because the way he is looking at me now almost hurts. As if he has never seen me before, as if I am an unwelcome stranger in his space, he looks right through me. My ego, although small, is crushed. I swallow hard and try to speak.

"Hi, Dr. Ward," my voice cracks, betraying me and the bravery I am so desperately holding onto. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. I swallow again.

"Something is wrong with my exam. The screen changed when I was on question 37." I attempt a smile that is supposed to be an apology for interrupting him to help with my nonsense.

"Show me," he says, the words rolling off his tongue. For a split second I forget he is talking about the computer and I feel my skin getting hot. I do want to show you. What do you want to see?

He stands up and I am reminded of what I came up here for: my stupid exam. I turn around and I begin retracing my steps back to my seat. I swear I can feel Dr. Ward's eyes on me as we bypass the eight rows that initially kept us apart. Turning left into my row, I find myself back in my seat. For a moment I am proud of myself for actually getting up and getting help.

"Hmmm..." Dr. Ward ponders as he stands behind me. Although I can't see him, I know that we are both staring at the buffering screen, thinking of ways to get me back to question 37. He leans over me to my left, creating almost a wall between me and my unaware classmate. I glance at her and she is enthralled in her exam, clicking away as if we aren't here.

"Let me see what I can do for you." I feel his breath burn my neck and I can feel myself begin to blush in response. What is wrong with me? Am I that deprived? This man is just doing his job. His right arm loops around me, pushing me slightly closer to my evil computer. Dr. Ward takes my mouse and begins clicking around. I begin to wonder how technologically literate this older man could possibly be.

"Maybe there's something I can do," I whisper as I try my best to not bring the girl's attention to me. I reach for the mouse. I think he is pulling away, making room for my attempt, but I embarrassingly find myself resting my hand upon his. I flinch hard and pull back. Underneath the desk I close my right hand into a fist, reminiscing on the feeling of our hands touching.

"Are you alright?" He wonders, not changing the volume of his voice. For some reason that puts me more on edge. Don't draw attention! Especially to me!

"I'm just upset about this," I reply, my voice shaking. I hope he cannot hear the efforts I'm making to conceal the truth: I'm just upset about this and you're making me nervous.

"I understand. Let me take care of this," he asserts as he leans closer. I gulp. My mind is racing. Now is not the time to be feeling this way. Dr. Ward is standing right over me, his chest lightly pressing into my upper back. He makes the move to turn off the computer, slowly pushing his right finger into the power button. It's not until he releases the button that I realize I've been holding my breath. I sigh deeply and I can feel Dr. Ward shift behind me, almost in response to my breath. His weight was once balanced onto his left side, allowing him better mobility of his right hand. Now, as he stands behind me, Dr. Ward is supporting his weight on his side, leaving his left one free.

Again, he reaches for the power button on the computer. The black screen turns a deep blue, prompting Dr. Ward to let go of the button. The computer asks me to log in, and I bite my lip nervously hoping that I have access to my exam once again. Miraculously, the exam is back on question 37. I am overjoyed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Thank you, Dr. Ward!" I whisper excitedly, no longer afraid of this exam. My right hand makes contact with the mouse and I begin rereading the question that had me stumped not too long ago.

"My pleasure," he mumbles. Unexpectedly, I am frozen at the feeling of his left hand gently press against my left breast. My mind goes blank, frozen in a room full of clueless people. I silently bask in the heat of his strong hand. Instinctively wanting to welcome the warmth of his palm, my left forearm comes up and weakly locks his hand where it is. It feels as though he is touching my bare chest, through my bra and sweater. Much like our silent exchange earlier, this moment leaves us frozen in time. The seconds feel like hours, leaving me wanting.

In sync, we both pull away. Dr. Ward straightens himself up behind me, turns, and leaves. My breast loathes the sudden absence and my heart is thumping in my ears. What just happened? I want to replay everything, to explore all that I just experienced, but this exam has to happen first. 63 questions to go. I take a few deep breaths, squeeze my thighs together, and refocus.

I am on question 86 when I realize that there are only three of us test takers left. I watch as another person gets up, pushes in their chair, and heads out the door. Make that two of us test takers left. I look at the clock and it reads 7:45. I have five minutes to answer 14 questions? I take a second to try and calculate how many questions I have to answer every minute to finish in that short amount of time. Just when I think I have this all figured out, I watch the only other student walk out the door. I have now 14 questions, in three minutes, and I am the only person left.

My hand perspiration makes my mouse slippery as I fight for my life during the end of this exam. These are the longest three minutes of my life as I speed-read and guess. I see movement in the corner of my eye and I feel a hand squeeze my left shoulder. I look up at Dr. Ward, feeling like my head weighs a million pounds. Is it the headphones, the stress, or the lust I have tried so hard to deny?

"Time is up. Submit your exam," he directs. I see his eyes wander from my face to the computer screen. His eyes slightly widen, stretching the crow's feet that I find so endearing.

"I see you still have 9 questions to go. That's disappointing. Was the exam too hard for you?" He patronizes as he makes eye contact with me again, almost jutting his bottom lip out at me.

"No, it's not that."

"Do you not pay attention in class?" He smirks, reminding me of our eye locking situation earlier.

"I do! I just don't understand the material. I don't get it..." My voice lowers. Am I about to cry?

"I see... Well there is nothing I can do for you now. I encourage you to come to my office hours in the future," he shares as his left hand slides down my shoulder, almost stroking my hair. Dr. Ward's hand lingers, then pulls away.

"Yes, Dr. Ward. I will do that. I'm sorry," I mutter as I look over at my unfinished test.

"No need to be sorry, now submit the exam and go home." Without answering I do what he has instructed. I bite my lip and hold my breath as I press 'submit.' There goes my future. Maybe college isn't for everyone, like my cousin always says.

"Smart girl. I will see you next week." And with that, Dr. Ward left me all alone in the big room. It takes me a few minutes to collect myself, but I grab my bookbag and I hurriedly head home.

Like a zombie, I get home and get ready for bed, mindlessly replaying all the events from earlier. Was that real? Did I imagine everything? No, impossible. Even now I can feel his hand holding my breast, his chest pressed against my back. All thoughts about my exam are gone. I fall asleep feeling like I am missing a part of myself. I hope he is thinking about me too.

. . . . .

It's been five days since I have seen Dr. Ward and I still haven't recovered. I lost count of how many times I have given into my fantasies, letting my hands wander the way I desperately want his to. I keep thinking back to his hand on my breast. That memory alone pushes me over the edge.

I have had butterflies since last night, the anxiety and excitement too strong to push away. The clock on my dashboard reads 5:00, confirming that I am an hour early to class. I have a game plan: Walk into class as the clock strikes 5:55, pick a seat behind a tall person, and hide for the entire hour and fifty minutes. The familiarity of being hidden will be a comfort to me, hopefully making me feel less nervous. As much as I wanted to skip class today and hide completely, Dr. Ward is releasing the exam scores for us to review. I already know I failed, but I hope that being in class will show Dr. Ward that I do care about my grades and I do pay attention.

5:50. I am standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall. My anxiety has not subsided, so I am pretending to be doing something really important on my phone. In my peripheral, I see shoes passing me by as they enter the classroom. Maybe I should go in now, ensure that I will not be walking in after the professor. I cannot imagine anything more embarrassing than that.

In one swift motion, I tuck my phone into my back pocket and take a step forward. Shockingly, I feel my body slam against something, or someone. Did I misjudge where the doorway is? Can't be...

"Whoa there!" I feel hands holding onto my shoulders as I try to regain my balance. The adrenaline dissipates and I realize that the hands feel familiar.

"Oh! Dr. Ward I am so sorry. I was not watching where I was going at all. Are you okay?" I apologize profusely. I am quickly racking my brain, thinking of what I can say to right this wrong as I am pulled from my thoughts. His right hand drops from my shoulder and finds a place to rest on my lower back. Here I am, practically held into place by my professor. I feel powerless, but my consciousness tells me I have no intention to resist.

"I'm alright. How are you? I'm glad you came to class today," Dr. Ward replies. Now I really don't know what to say. How am I? I am anxious and excited and all-too-willing to give everything away to you if you asked... and I am glad you came to class today too...

"Fine," I manage to say. That was definitely not my most convincing 'fine.'

"I agree," he smiles, his eyes analyzing mine. What does that mean? Dr. Ward takes a step back, ushering me through the door. My eyes erratically sweep over the rows of desks, looking for a tall person, so I can at least try to follow some part of my plan. All hope is lost when I realize that the only open seat is right in front. Fuck.

Having no time to process, I quickly seat myself with my bookbag at my feet. By the time my pen and notebook hit my desk, Dr. Ward has already pulled up his slide presentation. I open my notebook, writing down the title he has chosen for today's lecture. Although... I don't think any of these words belong together. How did my advisor convince me to take this class?

"Good evening! I hope you are ready for a new unit. I hate to admit it, but this is my favorite area of study within this subject. Maybe you will learn to appreciate it the same way I do," Dr. Ward shares, his eyes landing on mine. Another little moment that somehow overcompasses every single second I have ever lived. What does he mean by that? Appreciate what, exactly? I look back at him inquisitively. He answers my silent question as the right corner of his smile curls upwards. Yes. You. Dr. Ward clicks onto the first slide.

"Last time I saw you all was your midterm last Thursday. First thing we will do today is go over all 100 test answers. I know we only have until 7:50, but I have faith you can all keep up. Let's get started!" Dr. Ward turns, reading off the first question that is projected onto the screen. He follows this by giving us the correct answer. I am trying my best to write all the information down in hopes of redeeming myself on future exams, but Dr. Ward shows no mercy. We are going over the dreaded question 37 when I glance up at the clock. 6:15. No wonder my hand is cramping. I take a few breaks in between to stretch out my fingers and to shake my hand.

I look up at the clock again when we reach the last slide. 6:45. Dr. Ward turns his attention to a stack of papers on his desk. The midterms. My mind flashes to the nine unanswered questions I left behind, and the events that had occurred right before I submitted the exam. Time to pray...

My prayer is answered when I look up to see a shiny belt buckle resting inches above the edge of my desk. Giving into the temptation, I indulge myself. I let my eyes lead the way, following the trail of buttons up this manly torso. I stop myself when our eyes meet.

"Thank you," I say, my tongue coated in sweet honey. He smiles and the butterflies in my stomach erupt into fireworks.

"Fantastic job," he responds, handing me my unfinished exam. Fantastic? Is he being a dick to me right now? My heart drops as I look down at the score. 100%? My heart beats wildly as it sinks in. I look up quickly, desperate. I wish I could relieve the thumping in my ears.

"Thank you," I repeat. Am I yelling? Ugh! I need to relax. I look down and I refuse to look back up at Dr. Ward. Dr. Ward... 100%? On the exam that I left nine questions unanswered? My mind flashes back to Thursday and I am reminded of his hand against my breast. I squeeze my thighs together.