Elias (School)

"Professor?" She called out in her most honeyed tone. I'm sure it's very popular with the jocks, but I wasn't so easily amused.
"Yes Miss Nicks?" I looked over at her, noting the subtle tilt of her head and her legs positioned slightly apart. Amateur.
"Professor, it's Angela! How many times do I have to tell you?" she asked, giggling and twisting a lock of artificially colored hair around her manicured finger.
"As many times as you wish to needlessly repeat yourself, as I know what your name is and I still don't want to address you by it. What can I help you with?" I sighed, tapping my cane impatiently on the floor.
She looked slightly taken aback. "I... I only wanted to know who wrote "Through the looking glass."
I turned my back to her and made my way down to the front of the lecture hall.
"Class," I said into the microphone, and 200 heads simultaneously snapped up to look at me. "Who can tell me who wrote "Through the looking glass?" I beat an impatient little beat on the podium. My 2nd year literature students all looked around nervously; wondering if this was a trick question I'm sure. Slowly, 199 students raised their hand. Everyone but Angela, whose cheeks were flaming. "You, Mr. Tucker." I pointed to a blonde boy near the back.
He looked uncertain for a moment then spoke up. "Lewis Carroll?" He asked loudly, and a murmur or consent rippled through the room.
"Very good. But why the hesitation? Lewis Carroll is very well known in all of the realms and circles of literature. Alice in Wonderland and it's sequel, Through the Looking Glass, are some of modern literature's most studied pieces. What made you question yourself?" I scanned the audience, unease making them shift in their seats.
"Sir, you've asked seemingly obvious questions before but have caught us in it some way. This seemed much too easy to be just a question." He smiled, and everyone around him laughed appreciatively.
"Well thought out, Mr. Tucker. 5 points to your team." I nodded approvingly.
"Points, Professor?" He looked so confused, the poor boy.
"Rather, if we had a point system, or teams for that matter, you would have been awarded 5 points." I sighed theatrically, knowingly fueling their suspicion of my eccentricity. Nevertheless, laughter rippled through the conference hall.
"Right, thanks Professor." He laughed and shook his head, then went back to his work. Slowly I made my way back to Alicia Nicks. "Does that answer your question?" I asked quietly, noting her posture had changed and she was now leaning away from me. "Yes, Professor Grey," she mumbled, looking down at her desk.
"Good." I said, tapping my cane on the floor for finality. "Class," I yelled, making my way back to the podium. My leg started throbbing, and I knew what was coming. Just because I knew didn't make it any easier. "This week's assignment is a 1,500 word essay on the life and works on Lewis Carroll, including DOB and DOD, and any other fun tidbits you can unearth; I'll be grading based on pertaining themes. Due on Friday, double spaced, black and white, no excuses. Class dismissed, see you on Wednesday!" I pressed the buzzer on the wall, and the room became a flurry of activity.
A dull chorus of "Thanks, Professor," rang out as my Monday students filed out of the room, most of them older than me.
The thought made me chuckle.
I looked at the seating and saw only one person remaining: Alicia. I groaned inwardly, the 19-year-old in me screaming for me to run from the crazy chick, but then the teacher in me took over. "Miss Nicks, can I help you with something?" I asked, taking a seat behind my desk and discreetly massaged my leg, hoping to diffuse the pain bomb ticking in my body.
She grabbed her bag and approached me, her black hair as straight as a pin. I noted that her skirt was too short to be academically acceptable, although I could appreciate her long legs.
"Yes, Professor, you can." She said angrily, and I cringed on the inside. "Elias, I don't know what your deal is," she stated, and I knew the conversation was going to go downhill from that point. "Over the past month I have been trying to get your attention, and you always seem to ignore me, and you pay attention to that Tucker kid instead. You’re passing me over, and that never happens to me. So I'm telling you right this minute that I am very interested in you. I also think you should know that I view you as a challenge, so nothing you could say will make me want to have you any less." She said all of this with a smug, self satisfied air about her.
My expression was effortlessly vacant. I quirked an eyebrow, not out of interest but out of pity for the poor mentally infirm girl. "Miss Nicks, I believe your affections are misguided. I apologize if I have, in any way, encourage your attention, but I must assure you that I have no intention of pursuing any kind of relationship with you save that of a professor towards his student. I will have you know that I do not employ favoritism, nor do I endorse it. So, I ask that you get a move on with the rest of your day and forget about this silly infatuation. Good day, Miss." I nodded politely and busied myself with my papers.
She looked shocked, as though someone had physically slapped her. She struggled a moment with what to say or do next, and finally stood up and leaned over my desk. "Elias Gray, you're going to find out that life can be made pretty hard for you if you don't play by my rules." she hissed, trying to intimidate me by her proximity to my nose. Not even close to working.
I leaned in towards her, our faces only millimeters apart. "Try me." I deadpanned, pulling away and sitting back in my chair.
"Miss Nicks, this is not high school. Need I remind you of how very precarious your scholarship is? You need a certain amount of credits to keep your scholarship, never mind to graduate. My class counts for 33% of your semester's total, and you have me for both semesters this year. With you against me, that's 66% of your year's grade against you. So please, do yourself a favor and stop making idle threats that we both know are unrealistic. As I said before, good day." I slammed a drawer closed, and as a literature student she surely was able to see the symbolism in that simple action.
Yet she still stood there.
The fuse shortened and i knew the pain would be coming at any moment. I dreaded it's coming. Either she needed to leave or I was going to have to- there was no way I was going to let her see me in that state. "Madam, I'm afraid I must get back to work. Please feel free to remain in the auditorium and study, but I do start my next lecture in 35 minutes." I sounded cordial, but she seemed to hear the impatience in my tone. Her glare would have intimidated a lesser man, which is what she must have thought she was dealing with.
"Right. Thank you, Professor," she hissed and walked out of the room.
As the door clicked I had just enough time to turn out the light before the pain overwhelmed me.