I own nothing but a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.
"I'm impressed with all of you," Collins told his students. "You managed to pay attention to my entire lecture and you took notes. That makes me happy. This is a good day."
"You kinda scared the crap out of us yesterday," a male student commented. Collins raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Sensing that the professor wanted an explanation, the student continued. "Whenever you're mad about something, you get sort of . . . calm. Like you're trying to force yourself not to yell."
"And what do you think made me mad, Trevor?" Collins asked. A few of the other students looked at Trevor, their eyes begging him not to mention what had angered their professor.
"Our . . . our essays." A few students looked down at their notebooks. "We'll all have them by tomorrow, Professor, don't worry."
"I'm not worried. It's not my grade." Collins looked around the room. Every student he looked at avoided eye contact with him. He stared at Connor for a moment. The eighteen-year-old had his head propped up on his hand and seemed to be staring straight ahead. He was wearing his sunglasses, so Collins couldn't tell if he was looking at him or not.
"You don't believe we'll have them, do you, Professor?" a female student asked.
"I didn't say that," Collins replied.
"So you do believe it?"
"I didn't say that either. Don't forget you have a test tomorrow. Class dismissed." His students packed up and left the room at a medium pace. He watched several of them place documents, which he assumed to be their essays, on his desk as they made their way to the door.
"See you tomorrow, Professor," a random student said. Collins smiled in the direction the voice came from. He then noticed Connor was still sitting. Once the rest of the students were gone, he walked over to the boy.
"Connor?" he said. Connor didn't move as the professor slowly removed his sunglasses. The boy was asleep. "Connor!" The volume of Collins' voice caused Connor to jolt awake. He blinked a few times before looking up at Collins.
"Professor Collins . . ." he said.
"Why are you sleeping in my class? Did I bore you today?"
"No! No, you could never bore me."
"Then why were you asleep? And how much of my lecture did you miss?" Connor thought for a moment before opening his notebook and flipping through several pages. "Here's an easier question: what was the last thing you heard me say?"
"You were telling the class how impressed you were that everyone was paying attention. After that, I'm not sure what you said."
"That means you were only asleep for two minutes or so, but why?" Connor looked back down at his notebook.
"I didn't get much sleep last night." His voice was soft. "I guess . . . talking about what happened . . . brought the nightmares back."
"'Nightmares?'"
"About that man . . . about what he did to me." Tears filled Connor's eyes and he tried to blink them away. Collins sat in the empty seat next to him. "Maybe it wouldn't have happened if . . . I wasn't-"
"Connor, we talked about this," Collins interrupted, putting the boy's sunglasses down in front of him. "What happened to you is not your fault."
"I know . . . I know it's not, but . . . for the first time, I'm actually thinking about the situation clearly. I actually realize what I went through . . . the humiliation . . . the pain . . . and my mother just . . . let it happen . . ."
"I know it's not what you want to hear, but your mother is a terrible human being for letting that man do what he did. You didn't deserve it."
"Then . . . why do I feel like I did?"
"Because your mother made you feel that way. Especially after she outright told you that you deserved it." Collins placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Connor, you deserve to be treated so much better than that. You deserve to be loved." Connor looked at Collins and smiled.
"Thank you, Professor," he said. Collins patted him on the back and stood up.
"Now, I want you to go back to my apartment and try to get some rest."
"Professor, I . . . I can't do that."
"I'll cover for you. You can't function without the proper amount of sleep. I'll call and tell Angel you're coming." Connor nodded and began gathering his things as Collins made his way to his desk. The eighteen-year-old picked up his sunglasses and put them in his messenger bag.
"Professor?" Connor said just as Collins was about to pick up the receiver of the phone on his desk. The professor turned to face the boy as he walked toward the desk. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"How do you know . . . if you're in love?" Collins smiled at his student.
"Are you asking because you're curious or because you think you may be in love with someone?" Connor blushed slightly.
"I . . . I have feelings for someone, but I'd like to decipher whether it's love or just a crush."
"How do you feel about this person?"
"Well . . . I'd like to spend every minute of every day with him. He's very kindhearted and definitely not as shy as I am."
"Older or younger?"
"Older, but only by a few years. I'd really like to be with him." Collins nodded and Connor stared at him. "What do you think I should do?"
"I know you're shy, but you could try being spontaneous."
"'Spontaneous?'"
"Yes, do something to make this guy notice you. Strike up a conversation. Ask questions to get to know him better. Things like that."
"Okay." Collins reached for the phone receiver again. "Um, Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Would you ever date someone who was as smart as you are?" Collins' eyes narrowed, causing Connor to look to the floor. The professor took a few steps toward his student.
"Why would ask me that?" he asked. "Are you insulting Angel?"
"No," Connor answered timidly. "I was just wondering."
"Angel may not have a genius IQ, but she is very intelligent."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . sound like I insulted her. I was only asking a question." Connor kept his attention on the floor. "I . . . have another question."
"As long as you're not insulting the love of my life, go ahead."
Connor took a deep breath. After he had realized he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep the previous night, he thought of scenarios in which he could ask this particular question. Steering the conversation to the subject of love was the easy part. Now, he had to ask the all-too-important question that had been nagging him constantly since the day he first sat down in Collins' class. He figured the best way to do so was randomly, spontaneously.
"Where do you stand on . . . relationships between students and teachers?" he asked. He glanced up at Collins to see what kind of expression was on his face. The professor's eyes were closed and he was pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Connor, please tell me you don't have feelings for one of your professors," he said.
"I . . . do." Connor looked up at him. His eyes were open and his hands were on his hips. The boy stepped closer to Collins and, without giving it a second thought, pressed his lips to his professor's. He was pushed away within two seconds.
"No." Collins eyes were wide as he slowly backed away from Connor. "No, no, no! This cannot happen!" Collins practically ran to the door and closed it.
"Professor-"
"It's completely inappropriate and . . . I can't even think of another way to describe it!" Collins interrupted as he walked back to his desk. "What the hell is wrong with you? I am your professor and I'm in a relationship!"
"I know . . ."
"You just kissed me, Connor! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I . . . I love you, Professor." Collins' mouth dropped open. "I've been in love with you for a really long time. I just didn't know how to tell you."
"Oh my God."
"When you hugged me last night, my heart soared. I wanted to stay in your arms."
"Please, stop."
"I wanted you to hold me, Professor."
"I'm begging you."
"I wanted you to hold me and tell me everything will be okay."
"Connor-"
"You're the only person in the world who's shown me even the slightest bit of kindness and I don't want that to stop."
"Connor, please-"
"I want to be with you, Professor. I love you."
"Stop it! Just stop!" Collins ran a hand over his face. "Connor, I'm going to be straight with you. I don't love you. Okay? My heart belongs with Angel and it's going to stay with Angel. It doesn't matter what you say or do, I will always belong to Angel. I understand if you're a little attracted to me because I'm helping you, but-"
"That's not it at all," Connor interrupted. "I love you for you, not because of what you're doing for me. From the very first day of class, I've wanted to know more about you. You smiled at me that day. And I think about your smile every night before I go to bed because it gives me something to look forward to the next day. Professor . . . you're the reason I haven't committed suicide."
"Please don't say that," Collins begged.
"It's true. There are days where I feel like I just can't take the abuse and neglect anymore, but then I think of you and . . . those feelings go away." Connor looked at his shoes. "I'll . . . find somewhere else to stay for a while."
"Connor, you can still stay with me and Angel, but this has to stop and you have to realize that we will never be together."
"I can't just turn my feelings for you off, Professor." Collins sighed heavily.
"Just . . . go back to the apartment. We'll talk more about this later." Connor started to say something more, but decided against it. As he left the room, Collins stared after him. He waited a few moments after Connor was gone before picking up the phone receiver.
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