Debt to the professor

Chapter 5

Catherine’s POV

“You,” he says, his voice calm, cutting through the silence.

“Stand up.”

My stomach drops. For a second, I don’t move… My body feels heavy, like it’s glued to the chair.

“Catherine,” Sharon whispers beside me, nudging my arm. “He’s talking to you.”

“I…I know,” I murmured, my voice barely there.

“Then stand up,” she presses, her tone low but urgent.

I swallow hard and push myself to my feet. My legs feel unsteady, like they might give out any second. I keep my eyes down, staring at the edge of the desk in front of me. The room is too quiet and I can feel everyone looking.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

My throat tightens, he knows… I know he knows.

“Catherine,” I answered anyway, my voice shaking.

A pause.

“Full name.”

My fingers curl at my sides. “Catherine… Williams.”

Another pause, Longer this time.

“Sit,” he says finally.

I don’t waste a second, I drop back into my chair, my heart pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears.

The door at the front opens again.

“This is Professor Harry. He’s going to be the replacement teacher for Psychology.” Professor Elena’s voice fills the room as she steps in, gesturing toward him like nothing just happened.

I blink, trying to steady my breathing… Replacement teacher for Psychology??

He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there, tall and still, like he’s completely in control of everything happening in the room and somehow… he is.

Whispers start almost immediately. “Who is he?”

“Oh my God, look at him.”

“He’s so…”

“Shh, he can hear you!”

But that doesn’t stop them.

I keep my head down, but I can hear everything.

“He looks so masculine,” a girl whispers somewhere behind me.

“Not just masculine… damn,” another adds. “He’s giving… papi.”

Soft giggles follow, I feel my stomach twist… This is how they see him, it’s not like I do. Not like the man who stood over me yesterday, watching me struggle on the floor while my hands shook and my chest felt like it was collapsing.

“You’ll pay for it.” The words echo in my head again.

I grip my pen tighter.

“Look at his arms,” someone whispers. “Those sleeves…God.”

“Focus,” another voice says, but it’s weak, distracted.

The entire room feels different, not like a class, more like… something else. Like everyone is waiting, watching him.

I risk a glance up and I see Jasmine sitting straighter now. Her body isn’t draped over Swizzler anymore. Her attention is completely elsewhere… On him.

I see the way her eyes move over him, slow, deliberate. The small smirk on her lips like she’s already decided something. She leans toward her friend and whispers something and they both laugh quietly.

Swizzler doesn’t even react. He’s just leaning back, watching like this is all a show for him. I look away quickly, shrinking back into my seat.

My heart is beating too fast, It’s him. There’s no doubt now.

The hallway flashes in my mind again, the crash, the sound of the laptop hitting the ground and the look on his face.

I lower my head immediately, shifting slightly behind the student in front of me. Maybe he didn’t see me clearly and I doubt he’d remember.

I glance up slowly, He’s still standing at the front and his hand resting on the lectern.

He didn’t move or speak, he just … stood there. The silence stretched. It starts to feel wrong, like we’re all waiting for something, but no one knows what.

My chest tightens, Don’t look up…Don’t…

I look up and my breath catches, I see him looking at me. Not in the front row, not at Jasmine, at anyone else..Just me.

I freeze.

His gaze doesn’t shift, It’s steady and focused. I feel pinned in place, like I can’t move even if I try. Then his eyes drop slightly to my cheek and my stomach twists . The faint sting from yesterday comes back instantly, like his gaze alone brings it to life.

His jaw tightens, just for a second and then it’s gone…Just like that and replaced with that same cold control.

And then… a smirk, Slow and deliberate .My fingers press harder into the edge of the desk.

He finally straightens slightly, his voice cutting through the silence like nothing ever happened. “Welcome to Advanced Psychology.” His voice is deep, steady and every word clear. “In this course,” he continues, “we study human behavior beyond surface-level reactions.”

I swallow hard.

“We focus on things people try to ignore.” He pauses. “Debt.”

My stomach drops.

“Power.”

My grip tightens

“Consequences.”

Each word lands heavier than the last.

I can feel it, this isn’t random, it isn’t just a lecture. He’s still looking at me and I don’t even think the others notice. They’re writing, watching, and listening like this is normal but it’s not.

“I expect discipline in my class,” he says calmly. “And accountability.”

My chest tightens again.

“I don’t tolerate carelessness.”

My mind flashes back to the hallway. The crash and the broken laptop. My hands start to shake again.

“And I don’t forget what is owed to me.”

The words are simple but they hit me like a punch, the room stays quiet. No one reacts because they don’t hear it the way I do but I do.

He remembers, Of course he does and now… He’s here, standing at the front of my class like this is normal, like this is just another day but it’s not. His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he speaks again, his voice calm, controlled, but unmistakably directed.

“I haven’t forgotten what is owed to me, Miss Williams.”