Debt to the professor

Chapter 4

Catherine’s pov

The next morning, the campus felt like a gauntlet. Every whisper felt like it was about me; every glance felt like it was piecing into me . I pulled my hood low, my face still throbbing slightly from where Jasmine’s ring had caught my skin.

My stomach was in knots, but Sharon’s words echoed in my head: “Don’t let them win.”

I walked into the lecture hall, my gaze fixed firmly on my worn-out sneakers. I just wanted to reach my seat in the back and disappear.

"If it isn't Miss Wannabe!" The voice was like acid and I froze.

Jasmine was draped over Swizzler in the second row, her designer bag perched on the desk like a trophy. Swizzler didn't even look up from his phone, he just smirked as he leaned back, looking every bit like the king of the world.

"I never expected you to show your filthy face on campus after you ran off like a coward," Jasmine loud-whispered, her eyes scanning the room to make sure she had an audience. "Hope the slap doesn't still hurt... although a little color actually helps that drab face of yours."

Everyone started laughing.

“Did you see her run yesterday?” Jasmine continues. “Like a scared little rat.”

And then, more laughter. I swallow hard and vision blurs slightly, but I force myself forward.

“She looks even worse today,” Jasmine says again. “Honestly, does she even own a mirror? Filthy.”

Something inside me sinks.

“Hey, Catherine,” Jasmine calls again. “Why so quiet? Cat got your tongue?”

More laughter and this time it was louder now.

I feel it rising again. The heat, the humiliation… My face burns and my chest feels tight like I can’t breathe properly.

“I asked you something,” she pressed, tilting her head. “Or are you too stupid to answer?”

I stopped again and my hand began shaking. I hate that they are and I hate that she can probably see it.

“I…” My voice comes out weak. I clear my throat, but nothing else follows.

“Exactly,” Jasmine says with a smirk. “Pathetic.”

The word hits harder than the slap did, the room feels smaller, like the walls are closing in. The laughter turns into noise, loud and sharp in my ears. I lower my head again, wishing I could just disappear.

“Leave her alone!” The voice cuts through everything, I turn slightly and I see Sharon.

She’s already walking toward me, heels clicking fast against the floor. Her expression is tight, eyes locked on Jasmine.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than run your mouth?” Sharon snaps.

Jasmine scoffs. “Why? Are you her bodyguard now?”

“Someone has to step in since you clearly weren’t raised right,” Sharon shoots back.

A few people murmur and the tension shifts.

Jasmine straightens. “Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” Sharon challenges, stepping closer. “You’ll slap me too?”

There’s a pause, Jasmine’s lips press together, but she doesn’t move. Sharon lets out a small scoff, then turns to me. Her grip on my arm is firm but not rough.

“Come on,” she says quietly. I don’t argue, I let her pull me toward the back row.

“Sit,” she mutters once we get there.

I drop into the seat, my head lowering immediately. I can still feel the eyes and can still hear the whispers.

“You okay?” Sharon asks under her breath. I nod, even though it’s not true.

“They’re idiots,” she says. “Ignore them.”

I don’t respond, I just stare at my notebook with the Pen resting in the middle. I try to focus but my mind won’t settle. My chin dips lower, almost touching my chest.

The laughter fades, but it doesn’t disappear. It just turns into something dull, something that lingers at the back of my head.

“I wish the floor would just open and swallow me,” I mumble under my breath.

“What?” Sharon leans closer.

“Nothing,” I whisper quickly.

I grip my pen tighter, but I don’t write anything.

Then the doors open loudly and the entire room goes quiet instantly, even the whispers stop.

I frown slightly, lifting my head just a little seeing someone walk in.I look up and then my breath catches…It’s him!!!

The hallway flashes in my mind, from the crash , to the broken laptop and coffee spilling everywhere… then his voice. “You’ll pay for it.”

My heart starts pounding again. He walks like he owns the room… No hesitation or rush. Just steady, confident steps.

He’s dressed differently now. No suit jacket, but the charcoal-black shirt fits him perfectly, his sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms and everything about him looks deliberate.

He sets a leather briefcase on the desk at the front like he’s done it a thousand times.

No one speaks or moves, he doesn’t say anything either, he just looks around the room slowly like he’s studying everyone.

My chest tightens.

Please don’t look here. Please… His gaze lands on me and stops and then… He smiles.