The Parking Lot Incident
1260 Words
Olivia’s POV
____ _
Monday mornings should have been illegal.
There was something particularly cruel about waking up early after spending an entire Sunday afternoon working back-to-back, then going to bed convincing yourself you would start the week fresh, disciplined, motivated—only to hit the snooze button three times.
By the time I pulled into the university parking lot, it was already 7:40, which was late for me.
Just perfect.
The lot was fuller than usual, which made absolutely no sense because it was barely eight in the morning. Students circled the lanes like desperate vultures searching for the last remaining spaces.
Except I already had a space. My space.
Well, not officially. The university didn’t assign parking spaces to students, but after two years on campus, everyone developed an unspoken system.
You parked in the same place every day. People learned it. They respected it.
Or at least they were supposed to.
I turned the corner toward the row where I usually parked and immediately slammed my foot on the brake.
Someone was clearly about to park there.
Someone had just taken my space.
My space was taken.
A black car sat there like it owned the space.
I stared at it in disbelief.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I said loudly.
The car was sleek. Expensive. Annoyingly polished.
Definitely not the kind of vehicle usually parked in the student section. Whoever owned that car must be freaking rich—but I didn’t care.
I pulled my car up behind it and cut the engine, irritation bubbling up immediately. I glanced at the time on my Chanel watch.
Fifteen minutes before class.
Fantastic.
I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the car, marching toward the driver’s side of the black vehicle with the righteous determination of someone who woke up too early and hadn’t had coffee yet.
I knew the car was beautiful and all, and mine wasn’t even the latest version of a Honda Civic, but this was unacceptable.
The door opened just as I reached it and tapped twice on the window.
And someone stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Pressed shirt.
I didn’t even immediately process who it was because I was already halfway into my argument.
“Excuse me, but there’s an unwritten rule around here, and one of them happens to say that this is my parking pla—”
The words died instantly in my throat.
Oh.
Oh no.
Dr. Dante Nethans stood in front of me, holding his car keys, looking exactly as composed and intimidating as he had in class last week.
My brain shut down.
Completely.
I felt the blood rush to my face so fast it was almost violent.
Mortification was too small a word for what I was experiencing. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole at that very instant.
“Professor—” I blurted out immediately. “I—sorry—this is—I thought—”
Brilliant sentence structure, Olivia.
Truly impressive.
His expression didn’t change much, but one eyebrow lifted slightly as he studied me.
“I… thought someone else parked here. I didn’t know it was you,” I finished weakly.
Smooth. Very smooth.
He glanced briefly at the full parking lot around us, then back at me.
“So this spot was assigned to you?”
It was a simple question, yet I took a moment to answer because his voice caught me off guard. It was deep and rich, with a refined accent I couldn’t quite place.
“I—well—not officially,” I said quickly, waving my hands slightly in panic. “It’s just kind of… unofficially mine.”
Why was I still talking?
Stop talking.
Stop talking right now.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he closed his car door.
“You should hurry,” he said calmly.
He checked his watch, then looked back at me.
“Class begins in… eleven minutes.”
And just like that, he walked past me toward the Science & Technology building as if the parking lot confrontation had never happened.
I stood there for two full seconds.
Then I whispered to myself, “I hate Mondays.”
***
By the time I reached the lecture hall, I was sweating, completely out of breath, and my humiliation had only grown.
Lily was already sitting in our usual spot.
“You look like you just witnessed a crime,” she said as I dropped into the seat beside her.
“I did worse,” I muttered.
“What happened?”
“I just kind of fought with the lecturer.”
Her eyes widened instantly.
“You what?”
“Parking lot,” I whispered miserably. “I thought he stole my parking spot.”
She pressed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
“This is not funny,” I said.
“Oh, it’s a little funny.”
The door opened before I could defend my dignity.
Dr. Nethans walked in.
Immediately, the room fell silent.
I suddenly found the desk in front of me extremely interesting.
Maybe if I avoided eye contact long enough, he would forget my existence entirely.
Wishful thinking.
The lecture began without any acknowledgment of the parking lot disaster. He wrote the topic on the board: Fundamental Theorem of Calculus.
Then he began solving equations across the board with the same calm precision as last week, explaining limits and derivatives as though they were obvious.
I tried to focus.
Really, I did.
But every time he moved across the room, I was painfully aware that less than an hour earlier, I had almost yelled at him about a parking space.
Mortifying.
About an hour into the lecture, the door opened.
A course mate slipped inside quietly and began walking toward an empty seat.
Dr. Nethans stopped writing.
The chalk paused mid-equation.
Slowly, he turned around.
“You’re late.”
The student froze.
“I—sorry, sir.”
Dr. Nethans studied him for a moment.
Then he pointed toward the door.
“You can leave.”
The entire class fell silent. Not a murmur or even a breath could be heard.
“Sir?” the student said nervously.
“My class begins at 8:00,” Dr. Nethans said calmly. “Not 9:10. Not even 8:01.”
“But—”
“If you cannot arrive on time,” he continued evenly, “you cannot attend.”
The student hesitated.
Big mistake.
Dr. Nethans’ gaze swept across the entire room.
“This is a general warning. No one enters after me, no matter what your excuse is.”
No one moved.
No one even breathed too loudly.
The late student quietly walked back out.
The door closed.
Dr. Nethans turned back to the board as though nothing unusual had happened and continued solving the equation.
The lecture resumed.
And suddenly, I understood why people said he was terrifying.
***
Classes finally ended at noon.
I didn’t know what the administration was thinking when they gave us four hours of calculus on a Monday morning with only a thirty-minute break.
People started filing out of the classroom, and Lily was already demanding a full explanation of my parking lot disaster.
Just as we were about to step out, Dr. Nethans spoke.
“Miss. You. Stay back.”
My heart stopped.
Lily slowly turned toward me with wide eyes.
And in that exact moment, I realized one thing. I was done.
Completely done.
- Writer
