Author's Note- Edited.

Enjoy!

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Professor Banks

The weekend passed somewhat uneventfully, yet painstakingly slow. To say that I was entirely too eager for it to be Tuesday afternoon- regardless of the fact that I actually had my calculus course Monday morning- would be an understatement. I just had this gut feeling that simply being in Professor Souza's class was no longer going to be the same nor good enough. The concept just seemed so impersonal and the prospect of my teacher having to remain professional around me wasn't very appetizing.

I could tell that my standards, as far as being around the Professor, were getting higher, in which I knew they had no place to be. It was his job to teach me and simply his duty to keep me from failing. End of story.

However, despite what my brain and conscious were screaming at me, my gut was expressing the opposite.

I had spent just over two months in Professor Souza's calculus course and never once seen him express any interest or care towards his students. Aside from this, between my first embarrassing slip up and the previous Friday where he had offered to tutor me, neither had been the sole times I had made some sort of connection with him.

Whether it was a simple, Good morning, Miss Saunders whenever I rarely saw him around campus or that one time he muttered, Sorry about that, Chloe, as I was turning in a past test and heard him curse about forgetting his cell phone back home before noticing my untimely presence; Professor Souza had, for some reason, of all the other students, allowed me to be the one to receive his individual attention.

I could have been reading too much into it- before the passing weekend, I wouldn't have even tried to read into Professor Souza's actions whatsoever- but the only time I really saw him paying any mind to the others- Nate, for example- was to silence their chatter or question them during his lectures.

And then he told me his name.

Derek.

Derek Souza.

How many of his other students knew his first name, or were allowed to, for the matter? Who of his students had actually seen him smile or heard him laugh, aside from myself? Judging by the rumors that hovered around him, Professor Souza was known to be a stoic, grump of a man, in which I had previously believed myself. In retrospect, this irrelevant gossip was still flitting around only because no one had seen the little pieces of the mysterious calculus Professor that I had.

Moments like meeting with him after receiving my midterm grade and at the diner fueled my logic that I had something of a right to think that I wasn't merely seen by Professor Souza as just another one of his students. So, I was determined to use my study sessions to test that theory. And that determination powered me to push through a grueling, snail-pace of a Tuesday.

And I was so close. I merely had a half an hour left to endure of my studio workshop class taught by one of my least favorite teachers. The arts instructor, Professor Banks.

"Isn't he dreamy?" Liz questioned, her eyes not on the wooden bush she was supposed to be painting for the NYU's musical theater's upcoming performance of A Christmas Carol. She wasn't even aware of the fact that she was layering it quite thickly with a lovely, muddy brown, murky color.

I averted my gaze- and raised eyebrow- from her work of art to look at her questioningly.

Elizabeth Delaney was an extremely beautiful young woman. She had long, flowing and thick blonde hair, hung today in cute ringlets down to her mid-back. Her eyes were much of the same color as Nate's, whose presence was that beside mine as we all shared the studio workshop class. Liz had a figure that men only ravished with their eyes before noting that she was simply way out of their league. And she was sweet. She never had a bad thing to say about anyone, which said a lot, seeing as her favorite pastime was aimless chatter.

"God, what a hunk muffin." She breathed again. I wondered loosely if she had seen Peter Ricci, her boyfriend who had a physics class around this time, but highly doubted it as Liz's obsequious behavior- as well as just about every other female in this class- was almost a daily occurrence when we were all blessed with Professor Banks' presence.

Rolling my eyes, I followed her gaze, catching said Professor across the auditorium, hovering and discussing what he expected of the house a couple of girls were painting. They giggled flirtatiously and it wasn't really hard to see why most girls fawned over him.

In difference with Professor Souza, Professor Banks insisted that his students called him by his first name. Royce. He was tall and slender as any averagely built man was. His eyes were a chocolaty brown, his short hair similar in color. He had a perfectly straight nose, a flattering- with white, glistening teeth and all- smile and photogenic facial features.

It wasn't hard to say that Professor Banks was hot.

But it was difficult, however, to swallow his personality.

Unlike the reserved teacher of my fancy, the reason girls turned to putty at Royce's feet was because of his bad boy persona. He was maybe the same age as Professor Souza- if I knew the age of either it would have been easier to tell- but Professor Banks acted as if he had never left high school. Playing the role of your everyday teenage dick, Royce was cocky and seemed to have this somewhat vindictive aura about him. He knew he was hot and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

Even now, as the two girls he was currently speaking with continued to hackle and swoon at his teasing advances, he leaned against the stage's back wall coolly, hands shoved into his pockets, smirk playing in place of his professionalism.

I really had no right to judge, for my crush on Professor Souza was possibly just as bad, but, it wasn't the girls' curiosity and desire that concerned me. It was the vibes I was getting from the arts Professor that definitely left me feeling wary and uncomfortable.

All in all, I didn't find Royce Banks appealing whatsoever.

"Liz, you have a boyfriend." I muttered dryly, looking away from Professor Banks quickly when he glanced in our direction.

"Oh, I know." Liz chirped, finally returning to Earth and bringing her attention back to the bush she was currently destroying. She wrinkled her nose at her handiwork and promptly switched her paint to a more suitable color.

"And I'm totally committed." She continued. "But, every girl can have a fantasy, don't you think, Chloe?" She gave me flaunting look and I blushed. Liz may or may not know the depths of my infatuation with Professor Souza.

Aside from Nate, I had known Liz since high school and she was a pretty close friend. Nate and I were closer, but, if I ever needed any girl time, Liz was my wingman. So, just about every occasion we had a slumber party in our respective dorms, she had hounded me about my boyfriend history until she finally dragged my current affections out of me. At first, she seemed surprised, as if she were expecting my crush to be someone else. However, once the secret was out, she had squealed, "Oh my God! I completely get it. Professor Souza is hot!"

A lot of girls were attracted to the calculus Professor, yet their attention always seemed short-lived. Professor Souza wasn't as accepting to that kind of attention as Professor Banks. He was strict and didn't flirt back. So, the female population tended to sway more in Royce's favor.

Which, honestly, was fine with me and made Professor Souza just that much more appealing. Gentleman-like.

"Relax, Chloe. Professor Banks is just eye candy."

"I don't understand you girls at all," Nate muttered sardonically. When we both glanced at him as he was working on assembling Tiny Tim's crutch, we found him giving Professor Banks that same, odd, hard look as I often caught him giving Professor Souza. What was his deal with the teachers?

"What do you mean?" Liz questioned, her brows knitting together innocently. "Don't men objectify women all the time? It's like second nature to them. Why is it hard to believe that girls do the same thing from time to time?"

"Because he's your teacher." Nate explained almost angrily. I found myself just as confused by Nate's objections as Liz, questioning why he really cared at all.

"You girls are always talking about them like they're a piece of meat. Professor Banks. Professor Souza. They both have to be at least ten years older than most of the student body. You guys don't see anything wrong about that?"

"No. Not at all." Liz shrugged. Nate made to snap something back but Liz interrupted him and continued.

"First of all, they can't be more than five years older than us. Both of them started teaching two years ago, right out of college. I heard they both attended a college in Syracuse together." I blinked, surprised that Liz knew all this information and sort of grateful that she was one to be into the whole rumor mill. Sometimes, Liz proved that her ability to talk and talk was more valuable than I ever gave her credit for.

"Beside the point," Liz resumed. "It doesn't matter how old they are because, like I said, they're just eye candy. I care about Peter. I'm with him. But he likes to look at supermodels and porn just like every other man on the planet. So, what makes it so wrong that I like to check out my art teacher?"

Nate rolled his eyes and glanced my way, eyes pleading me to talk sense into our chatty friend and take his side. However, I shook my head and held up my hands.

"Hey, I'm not getting involved in this. You two are the ones arguing-"

"Oh please," Nate snorted bitterly. "I've seen the way you look at Professor Souza, Chloe. You're not exactly a third party here. You're just as guilty-"

"So I look. Big deal. At least I don't go on and on about his alluring blue eyes and soft red hair like a certain someone I know and his not-so secret obsession with Emma Stone. You want my opinion?" I questioned stubbornly, watching triumphantly as Nate started to stand down, my logic kicking him in the ass. "I agree with Liz. But, I think you're jealous that your math and art teachers are getting more attention from college girls than you are."

I hadn't really been thinking about what I was saying. I had mostly reacted defensively because it was bad enough having just one person knowing about my feelings towards Professor Souza. I don't think I would be able to handle having Nate knowing as well. But, once the words slipped, I figured that they made sense and greatly explained why Nate was so bitter towards Professor Souza all the time.

"Whatever." Nate muttered dejectedly before turning back to his gimpy excuse for a prop.

After that, the subject was dropped and Liz started to ask the two of us what we had planned for our Thanksgiving break coming up within the next week. I told her that I was going to pick up a shift at the diner as my only relatives were both busy that weekend with work. Dad was constantly commuting back and forth between Buffalo and Europe these days that I didn't even try bothering him with a holiday we had hardly celebrated since Mom had passed away. And Aunt Lauren was scheduled to work at her hospital in Albany all that week. Liz felt bad but I assured her that it was no big deal.

Eventually, Nate stopped being such a grump and joined into the conversation. He was planning to head back to Buffalo to visit his parents for the holiday weekend and hopefully catch up with a couple of old friends from our high school. I had to, once again as he's offered several times already, decline his suggestion for me to join him and that his family wouldn't mind.

Mr. and Mrs. Bozian were sweet and welcoming, so I knew it wouldn't have been a problem. But, I wasn't sure how comfortable I felt spending Thanksgiving with a full and content family when I couldn't handle it being just my dad and I. Besides, I needed the extra money and could use the alone time to study more for the upcoming math tests Professor Souza had made an announcement about the day before.

Liz was telling us that she was going to spend the break at her Nana's, where she had previously lived with her mother and younger brother, when the bell shrilled and informed us that the hour was over.

At the sound, I could feel my heart skip a beat and the anticipation that had momentarily disappeared thanks to Liz and Nate's company double back tenfold.

I was about to spend an undetermined amount of time with Professor Souza, just the two of us. Though I was sure that what was to pass would mostly be studying, I couldn't help the excitement of putting my new objective into play.

And that was to discover whether Professor Souza saw me in the same light that I saw him.

I bid Liz and Nate goodbye, Liz throwing me a wink on her way out as she was well aware of my afternoon's coming activities. But, before I could race out the door from sheer eagerness I heard my name called and turned from making it halfway across the stage to find that it was Professor Banks beckoning my attention.

"Chloe, if I could have a quick word with you," He asked, tone light and friendly, yet not quite hiding the smarmy lilt to it. "I heard from Mr. Bozian that the two of you are writing a play and performing it as your audition piece into Juilliard next year."

My brows bent questioningly as I observed him sauntering closer to me, finding myself confused as to why Nate would inform him of that. Not that it was wrong; Nate had the right to tell anyone what he was doing for college next year. That was his business. I just found it strange that he was talking to Professor Banks about it.

When the arts Professor finally reached me, he gave me a hearty grin and casually stood before me with his arms crossed while his dark eyes flashed in a light that I didn't feel too comfortable with.

In fact, him standing just a foot away from me made me feel uneasy, though, Professor Banks had never really done anything in the past to merit all of my hesitance.

"If you'd like some advice or help with your piece, I'd be more than happy to relay my own thoughts."

Still feeling off about the conversation, as Professor Banks had never once approached me before, I gave him a hesitant smile and replied cautiously.

"S-sure, but maybe a-another time? I have study hall with P-professor Souza at four and I wouldn't w-want to be late."

Professor Banks' brows knit together curiously and his beautiful orbs ran over me for a brief second, searching for something, perhaps, I wasn't too sure. When his eyes bounced up to mine again, his lips tugged into a questioning smirk and he stated, "Professor Souza, huh?"

"Um, yes. H-he doesn't really seem l-like he enjoys waiting, so I-I'm in somewhat of a hurry."

"Of course, that's very understandable," Professor Banks agreed euphorically. I nodded slowly before gifting him with an awkward, Alright. Bye then, and made to flee the auditorium and rid myself of the creepy vibes I was getting from the arts teacher.

However, after I had hopped off the stage and made it halfway down the aisles towards the auditorium's back exits, Professor Banks called for my attention again and exclaimed, "Do me a favor, Chloe? Inform Derek that it's been far too long since I've had the pleasure of speaking with him." He chuckled almost menacingly before he continued. "I'm sure he's dying to catch up on our good old college days just as much as I am."

The way he stood there, atop the stage as if he owned it, stature tall and dominant as if he liked it that way, and eyes smoldering in an ominously malicious manner sent a tremor of shivers down my spine. It was almost like his entire persona turned 180 degrees where, before, he was approaching me like he did just about any other girl around campus or in his classes. A lustful hunter. But, since I had mentioned Professor Souza's name, he became exactly what I feared and suspected of him.

Simply just a hunter, without a specific desire behind it. That only proved to be ten times as frightening.

Swallowing nervously, I simply nodded my response and backed away. When I finally made it through the doors, my feet took up a mind of their own and I sprinted to the parking lot where the safety of my car awaited me.