Jane's POV
"Everyone, please turn in your reports by afternoon," Professor Hank walked in with his usual brown coat hanging down his shoulders. His dark eyes watched everything around him with scrutiny as if it was his first time at the C Block. He had still not trimmed his hair. It has grown too long now. He had it tied securely into a ponytail. His mug was shaved clean, and his stance was weary as always. He used to wear those boots. The ones that made the annoying thud sound despite the soft landing of it.
"I am sorry, Jane," I turned around to find Corin, sitting with her arm around some tall, blonde guy. Of course. Corin had found herself a boyfriend.
"You had one job, Corin. Couldn't you just work your way through the scenes between Duke Canton and Mistress Vanya? We could have done it today," I scrunched my nose.
"Jane, you don't get it. Do you?" She hints looking between me and her boyfriend.
"God. Just get it done," I have had enough. The thing about people in relationships? They love to rub it on your face. Professor Hank hadn't mind our little chit chat, and I mumbled a little prayer. God knows he hasn't been a fan of me. It's been five days. Five days and I haven't been able to write anything.
For anyone who came with impeccable, long red locks and a clean academic record, no one would take Corin for a slacker. She was a humbug, always in her head. Despite her long legs, and tacky fashion sense (that always included wearing something red, or in the shade of it to match her hair), she was unpopular. Atleast that's what she'd like you to believe.
When I first met Corin, I thought she was a nerd. Spoiler alert. She wasn't. She was far from it. Corin's dad was a man on finance. Everything that you need to be a trust fund baby. How she ended up in Montreal was a surprise to everyone. Everyone who ended up in Montreal was surprised, for that matter. Corin's social life outside the uni campus was brighter than my living room's ceiling lights. She would hang out with all cool, and hot dudes. Some even let her stay at their place. The other day she would limp back to class and say things like, gymnastics, yoga and never admit that she just got shacked. Which was a nice thing to do, given her reputation at Montreal. Corin was the top of the class, and the most proper student. There was no way Professor Hank would believe me that she slacks off. And that brings me to the other problem. Professor Hank.
"Jane, are you here with us?" Uh, oh. His gaze meets mine. I am not usually intimidated by my Professors but there's just something unusual about Professor Hank. For one, he always, almost dresses the same. And two. "Have you not embarrassed yourself enough in last class to daydream in this one?" He mocks. He hates me.
"Let me guess, you haven't written the report that was due?" He walks closer to my desk. Chips of wall paint rub on his shoulder as he walks past. The room is humming with silent whispers, but I do nothing. Here he comes.
"I am sorry, Professor. We had sort of a situation," I said, meeting his eyes.
"Does that situation scare you more than getting a D in your paper?" He raises a brow.
"No- I mean. I swear I would have done it if..." Before I could say more, Corin squeezes my hand. "It's my fault," she says.
"No need to defend her, Corin. I know what Jane is like. It's a surprise she even got so far in the programme with such an attitude," his words dig deeper into my skin. For a handsome young man, he sure was rude. And mean. And a God awful abominable person.
"Isn't it safe to say, that life would be easier if you just dropped out?" His tone was cold, arms crossed in front as I lifted my head to meet his gaze.
"It's not my fault that I have trouble reading the..." All colour rushes to my cheeks before I realise what I was about to say.
"Speak, Jane. Let's hear what excuse she has now," he mocked.
"I- I cannot read the spicy scenes," I stuttered. And just like that the word was out. Laughter erupted. Even Corin watched me like I was chopped liver. What? It's not my fault. I am a virgin. It makes me feels stuff that I shouldn't. But I wasn't ready to share all that quite yet.
Professor Hank narrowed his eyes. "Surely, your attempt at excuses is commendable. You will stay behind for two hours, and read the scenes in front of me and submit the report," his voice drops so low, I could feel ice slipping through my spine. "Nod if you understand, Jane," he says, and I catch a glimpse of him. His lips curve slightly. As if in a smirk. I nod my head slowly and then he whispered something in my ear.
"Good girl," something stirred within me and before I could think or say more, the class presumed. All the while Professor Hank taught us the rules for semantics and how to spot incoherence in passages, I sat there with my own misery. Trying my best to understand and make sense of it.
The class ended in what seemed like forever. Everyone had already left but Professor Hank, and I.
"You must be delighted to know all your peers have managed to turn in their reports, except you. Poor Corin. Was I wrong to think her company can enlighten you?" Anger flashes in his eyes. I have no idea what I have done to him. There's just this thing about him that throws me off guard. That and his terrible anger towards me.
"Is it too hard to do what you are told? Take out the darned novel. You won't be leaving until we are done." He tells me, and I gulp feeling the dryness spread through my throat.