EXTRA CREDIT

ALINA'S POV I push past the back doors of my lecture hall praying my arrogant dickhead of a professor doesn't spot me, but as always he does. It's like the guy has eyes at the back of his head or something ”Late again, Carter” My last name rolls off his stupidly sexy deep voice and my breath hitches, the whole class turns to stare at me as I slide into the nearest desk. ”Traffic” I mutter but he hears me anyway and raises an eyebrow, a glint flashing in his ridiculous forest green eyes. ”You live in the dorms” ”And how's that any of your business, sir?” I answer clutching my pen like it's my lifeline – which at this point it might as well be He shakes his head with a small chuckle before turning back to his Powerpoint presentation. Something about Demand and supply in economics. I'm barely listening anyway. For the next 30 or so minutes, I stare at my phone trying to reply all the messages I may have missed because I over slept this morning ”Never going to a party again” I mutter as I massage my temples and sigh. At some point I switch off my phone and bring out my notebook trying to write something down when he changes the slides. “Today’s discussion,” Professor Hayes says smoothly, “is the impact of increasing minimum wage on small businesses.” Great. Of course it is. I massage my temples again willing myself to stay awake and pay attention He turns back to the class. “Who can explain how this affects supply and demand?” My hand goes up before I can overthink it. ”So much for sleep” I mutter as I wait for him to call on me His eyes narrow slightly. “Yes, Carter.” I straighten in my seat. “Raising minimum wage increases workers’ income, which boosts consumer spending. That can increase demand and stimulate the economy.” A few students nod. Some groan and I hear one girl call me know-it-all He doesn't react. “While that sounds ideal,” he says calmly, “higher labor costs can reduce employment opportunities, especially for small businesses operating on thin profit margins.” I lean forward, the gears in my brains working as I think of the perfect counter attack. “But companies can adjust. Productivity increases when employees feel valued.” His gaze locks onto mine. “That is not always supported by data.“ He did not just say that. “So you’re saying workers don’t deserve fair pay?” I challenge. A small murmur spreads across the room. I see some people start to secretly record the situation “I’m saying,” he replies evenly, “that economic models must be based on evidence, not emotion.” That lands like a slap. My jaw tightens. “Maybe if you actually listened to students instead of shutting them down, you’d realize we understand the topic.” The class goes quiet. His expression hardens just slightly. “Carter.” That tone. The one that means enough. Something in me snaps. My pen leaves my hand before I even process it. It hits the back of his head. The room freezes. I gasp He turns slowly "Who threw that” he asks with a cold expression, picking up the pen from the floor and crushing it Immediately all hands pointed at the back row where I sit I bite down on my bottom lip and try to shrink in my seat but i feel his piercing gaze on me ”Father Lord, please forgive me all my sins” I mutter "Carter. My office. After class” My stomach drops