Steamy Night With My Professor

There’s More Where It Came From

AURELIE

I saw it before my alarm went off.

One hundred and fifty three notifications. My brows furrowed in confusion as I picked up my phone, unlocking it. My screen was filled with tags, reports, and mocking emojis and I immediately knew that something was wrong.

I opened one of the notifications and my breath caught in my throat.

It was a picture. A picture of me, completely topless. A picture I had sent to Jason a few months ago on a cold rainy night, where he had pleaded with him to help quench his hunger.

The caption attached to the photo read: " Scholarship girl has been sending her body to other men while her man remained faithful, loving her with his life.

The phone slowly fell from my shaky hand. I knew it was Jason. He was the one who had requested for it and the only one who it got sent.

I immediately scrolled to my contacts, wanting to call Becca but a notification caused my finger to hang mid-air.

Stay quiet and do nothing. There’s more where that came from.

I could still screenshot everything and post the truth and let the internet tear Jason apart the way it was currently tearing me apart.

But telling the truth meant telling all of it. What I saw in that room. Who was on their knees. What it meant.

And as much as Luca had broken something in me that I wasn't sure would heal, I was not going to out him. Not like this. Not as collateral damage in Jason's pathetic little war.

I wiped the start tear that had carelessly rolled down my cheek. I rose from the bed, freshened up, and made my way to school.

The whispers started at the school gate. I heard my name before I reached the corridor, eyes following me to analyze my every move.

My gaze fell on Becca who was a few inches away from my locker, waiting for me. I blinked back the tears and she ran toward me, pulling me into a tight hug. She placed a kiss on my cheek and squeezed my shoulder gently.

“I’m here for you. Let’s go,” she said softly, as we began to make our way toward the lecture hall.

Becca walked beside me with her jaw set and her eyes daring anyone to say something.

Nobody did, not directly. But I heard it anyway.

“That's her. The one with the picture.”

“Didn't she just get dumped too? Imagine.”

“She looks so unbothered. Didn't she send it to like three different guys?”

We paid no heed to them and kept walking. Soon, we rounded the corner into the main corridor and I felt Becca slow down beside me.

"Don't look up," she said quietly.

But naturally, I looked up.

Chloe was leaning against the wall ahead, arms crossed with a sinister smirk dancing on her lips. She pushed off the wall the moment she saw me and walked over gleefully, her eyes not hiding her satisfaction.

"Rough morning?" she asked.

"Move, Chloe."

"I just want to talk."

"I said move."

She tilted her head. "You know what your problem is? You always think you're the victim." She began. "Jason told me everything by the way. About the picture. About why he sent it and about what you think you saw."

My stomach twisted in dread.

What I think I saw? What does that even mean?

"You should be careful," she continued. "Making accusations about things you don't understand could really hurt people and I won’t allow you hurt Jason because of your childish thinking.”

I held my sister's gaze for a few seconds. "Was any of it real?" I asked. "Any of it?"

An emotion flickered in her eyes and before I could deduce what it was, it was gone.

Then the smile came back. "Have a good day, Aurelie."

Becca grabbed my arm before I could follow. "Don't. She wants you to react. That is literally all she wants."

A tired sigh escaped my lips. I knew she was right, so I let her lead me into the lecture hall.

The room was already half full when I got there. I found two empty seats near the back and made my way there, my head hung low, refusing to meet the gaze of anyone.

I brought my notebook out of my bag and immediately started scribbling down nothing, hoping they’d just mind their business but the whispers began, their gazes fixed on me, refusing to back down.

“That's the girl from the picture.”

“She acts so quiet and upright but is a slut—-“

“I feel for Jason, he has done nothing but love her”

I kept writing, loops and lines that meant nothing.

"You're clenching your jaw," Becca murmured.

Then from three rows ahead, a loud voice reverberated through the room.

"She probably sent it to her professor too. Trying to pass that way since she can't do it academically."

Loud ugly laughter filled the room with other side comments.

I stopped writing.

"Aurelie," Becca said, touching my arm gently.

I stood up.

The girl who had spoken was blonde, bored looking, the kind of pretty that made you turn around just once with a long hiss.

She turned around slowly when she felt the room shift.

"You got something to say?" I asked.

She looked me up and down. "Wasn't talking to you."

You were talking about me. Same thing."

"Is it?" She smiled at her friend. "Someone’s feeling quite sensible today."

"Say it to my face then. Whatever you said. Say it again."

She stood up, quite taller than me. "You are a scholarship kid who can't keep her clothes on or her man interested. What exactly do you want me to repeat?"

I swung before Becca could grab me. I don't know what I was aiming for. Her face, probably. Her perfect, smug, expensive face. But she was faster and ducked under my fist, shoving me backward so hard I stumbled into the next row of desks.

Someone grabbed my hair. Someone else's elbow connected with my ribs. The room dissolved into chaos; shouting, laughing, the screech of metal chairs...

"ENOUGH."

The voice made everyone freeze. I looked up from the floor, where I'd landed. My cheek throbbed. My ribs ached.

I pushed the hair out of my eyes and my heart stopped.

Standing at the podium was a man in a dark blazer, a watch on his wrist that probably cost more than my entire tuition, and green eyes that were currently sweeping the room with the kind of authority that did not need to raise his voice twice.

Then those eyes landed on me for exactly one heartbeat, just long enough for me to see the emotions swirling in them; recognition, disbelief, and something else I couldn’t quite place but they were gone as quickly as they came and then he looked away.

"Welcome to Advanced Macroeconomics," he said, his voice smooth, like the last thirty seconds had not happened at all. "I'm Professor Max Hamilton. This is my class."

And that..." He gestured toward the mess of overturned chairs and scattered notebooks. "Will never happen again."