by Parker, Ali
I checked the information I had as I walked down the hall, stopping when I saw the right number. I felt my first bit of nerves as I walked through the door. There were about thirty seats and half were filled. An older gentleman waved. I glanced over my shoulder to see if someone was behind me. There was no one.
When I looked back, he was still waving at me. He obviously thought he knew me. I walked to where he was gesturing for me to sit down. I took my seat in the front row to save us both any more embarrassment.
“Hi,” he said with a bright smile.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked the guy that was barely holding onto his hair. He reminded me of a version of Bruce Willis with his round head, friendly smile and outgoing persona.
“Not yet, but when I saw you come through the door, I knew we needed to stick together.”
I laughed, looking around the room and seeing all the youthful faces. I didn’t think some of them were old enough to grow facial hair. A true testament to my age. “Thanks. I’m Christopher Evans.”
“Alan Pierce,” he said extending his hand for me to shake.
“Nice to meet you. Is this your first foray into higher learning?”
He chuckled. “No. Third time. I’m hoping it’s the charm.”
“Wow, you must really like school?”
He laughed. “Not so much, but I just can’t figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I was an electrician, went back to school for computer engineering and now I’m back again to study history. Hell, I’m old enough to be able to write about history.”
I smiled, nodding. “Never too old to learn.”
“Is this your first time in college?”
“Nope. I went right after high school, got my bachelor’s in business, and have been working in the real estate business for the last twenty years.”
“Wow,” he said nodding. “What are you going for this time?”
I sighed. “I haven’t completely decided. I was interested in religious studies.”
“Like a particular area or just in general?”
I wasn’t going to get into the motivating factor behind my need to study religion and the role it played in our culture. “I can’t honestly say. I like to know what makes people tick. Not psychology, but like what spawns traditions and beliefs.”
He looked intrigued. “Cool.”
“What brings you to Greek Mythology? That seems a little off course from actual history.”
“I think my advisor thinks I’m out of my mind. When I signed up for classes, he kept asking if I was sure I wanted to do this again. I got the feeling he was trying to talk me out of it.”
I laughed. “I think we must have the same advisor. It’s how I ended up here.”
“Are you testing to see if this college thing is really for you?” he asked.
I grinned. “Yep.”
“Hmm, I beginning to wonder if this is a ploy to fill up this class.”
“I imagine Greek Mythology is low on the list of most desired classes,” I said.
“The advisor told me the professor is really good.”
“Said the same to me. Maybe his wife?”
“I guess we’ll find out soon,” he said, not sounding convinced we were in a good class.
A couple more students strolled through the door, looking like they had just rolled out of bed. They reminded me of Olin. Their wrinkled clothing showed their lack of interest in taking the class seriously. I looked over at Alan, taking in his clean jeans, worn with a belt and a polo shirt. Unwrinkled.
I was wearing a pair of black slacks and a button-up blue shirt, without the tie. I worked in an industry where looks mattered. It was hard for me not to put my best foot forward. I believed in making a good first impression.
“The dress code doesn’t seem to have changed much over the years,” I quipped.
“No kidding,” he mumbled. “You know half these kids haven’t showered today and the clothes they’ve got on are at least a few wears in.”
I chuckled. “It reminds me of my own college days. I’m a little embarrassed by it now.”
He cringed. “Me too. Mullets weren’t good for anyone and believe it or not, I had a beautiful mullet, permed and all.”
“I was in the nineties. Grunge. Grunge was not a good look, but I was in style without even trying. Hell, all of us were.”
He laughed. “If only we could talk to our younger selves. At least we didn’t have the cell phones.”
I groaned. “I can’t imagine growing up with all that technology and documenting every bad decision.”
“Not just documenting it, memorializing it, and everyone you know and hell, even people you don’t know critiquing it.”
“Yep, I don’t envy them,” I agreed.
Our conversation was cut off when a woman walked through the door. “Looks like we’re not the only seasoned students.”
I smiled but didn’t look at him. My eyes were drawn to the curvy blonde carrying a briefcase and strolling into the class. Now she was dressed appropriately. She was wearing a smart business suit, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had the look of a lawyer, which seemed a bit odd for a mythology class.
She had a woman’s body, with lots of curves. She wasn’t one of the walking skeletons I had seen strolling around campus. The woman in front of me had a vibrancy about her that drew me in. She was confident, which was something I was naturally drawn to. I liked that she wore an outfit that catered to her size and didn’t hide all the voluptuousness under big, bulky clothes that were meant to disguise the extra pounds.
I liked what I was seeing.
When she put her briefcase on the desk and turned to face us, my first thought was no way. She was too young and too beautiful. She clasped her hands together and looked out at all of us. I stared at her, noticing the green eyes right away. She looked like a Nordic goddess. I was absolutely mesmerized. I knew I was staring but I couldn’t look away.
“You might want to close your mouth,” Alan whispered.
“That’s the professor?” I hissed.
“I’m getting that impression, unless she’s a ballsy student. I suppose she could be an assistant.”
I continued to stare, hoping she didn’t notice. I was hot for the teacher. I didn’t think that was still possible at my age, but here I was, lusting after the pretty professor standing ten feet in front of me.
Chapter 6
Leila
I scanned the chairs, not really looking at the faces of the students I would have in class the next few weeks. I was focusing on the chairs themselves and the fact there were a lot of butts in the chairs with very few empty ones. It was damn near full. I wasn’t expecting that. I was actually thinking I would skate by with a light class roster which would mean there would be fewer papers to grade. That wasn’t the case at all.
“I guess you all had Enders as an advisor?” I quipped. “He likes to stuff as many people into my class as he can. I suppose he gave each of you the speech about my class either being a great way to pick up a couple of fun credits or to determine whether you are really serious about whatever major you are going into.”
There were some laughs, telling me that was exactly what had happened. I smiled, appreciating Gerald’s support. He was a nice man and was convinced that without him I would lose my job due to a lack of interest in the old Greek stuff as he called it. He was always shuffling schedules around to make sure my classes were stuffed to keep me from falling into the red zone, as he called it. I wasn’t worried, but he sure seemed to be.
For the last year, whenever a student was looking to get a couple of easy credits to make the fulltime status or needed a few extra credits to graduate, my class was what he signed them up for. It was great for my enrollment numbers but sometimes, his help backfired.
I often ended up with some very bored students who barely did the work and didn’t give a shit about what I was teaching. They were there to get the credit and didn’t care about ac
tually learning the stuff. If they walked away with a C, they were fine with it.
There were some who were converted by the end of the semester. The students who actually paid attention and wanted to learn enjoyed the class. Hell, what wasn’t there to enjoy about a cranky group of gods and goddesses who would stab each other in the back if they were in a bad mood?
“Thank you all for being here and being on time, always a bonus. My name is Professor Leila Bell. No, I’m not a teenager. Yes, I’ve actually graduated from college. This is my third year teaching Greek Mythology. It is something I love to talk about. I tend to get a little carried away at times, so you will have to forgive me if I ramble. Don’t stop me, though, trust me. If I’m talking about it, it’s probably going to be on a test.”
There were some small laughs. I looked around the room, noticing the two gentlemen in the front row. That was new. Again, I could thank Gerald for that. No one their age just decided to pick up Greek Mythology for the hell of it. They were probably trying to fulfill a bucket list and get their degrees, and my mini-mester class would push them up to the right number of credits.
I smiled at the man who seemed to be openly staring at me. He was very attractive. A little too attractive. It was hard not to look at the steely blue eyes and the thick black brows above. I loved the classy, debonair thing he had going on. His black beard was peppered with gray. It was perfectly trimmed, nice and short, just long enough to cover his jawline. His black hair was cut short as well.
I got the impression he was a wealthy man, judging by the Gucci loafers he was wearing. He was dressed like he was headed to a business meeting, not a class about Greek mythology. His eyes met mine. I didn’t look away until I reminded myself where I was.
I smiled and turned back to my desk. “You were all sent a syllabus in your class information. I like to do things a little old-fashioned. I like paper. Yes, yes, I know, I’m killing trees, but I like something tangible in my hands when I’m studying.”
The two men up front looked at each other and laughed. They were of the same mindset I gathered. I pulled out my tablet, pushed a few buttons, and cast the lesson plan onto the screen behind me. It was a packed three weeks with me trying to cover as much information as possible in a very short amount of time.
“We’re here,” I said, using my cursor to highlight day one. “Because we’re short on time, I’m not going to do the usual first day expectations. This is a class. You are expected to show up, be present, don’t interrupt me, and do the homework. Period. It isn’t hard. I’m a very easy-going lady and you might find you actually like what you’re about to learn.”
I leaned against the front of my desk, still holding my tablet and switching to the introduction page I always used. It was bulleted points that made teaching the information easy and I found it helped the students digest the information better than it being in one giant block.
“You’ll see there is a different name on each day. I’m going to be zipping through these guys fast. The class is too short for us to cover demi-gods, so we’ll be sticking with the big guns. Before we dive in, can anyone tell me anything about Greek mythology at all?”
I looked around the class and saw a lot of blank faces. “Anyone?”
A young woman raised her hand. “I took a class in high school about it.”
I nodded. “And do you remember any of it?”
She grimaced. “I kind of remember something about Zeus,” she said hesitantly.
I laughed. “Well, that’s good. He’s kind of a big deal in the Greek world. Next question, can anyone tell me how many gods there are?”
“A lot,” someone answered.
“Good answer. There are a lot, but for this particular class, we’ll be covering the twelve that are most well-known in history. That isn’t to say the other many gods and goddesses didn’t play a very important part in the shenanigans of Greek mythology, but they are lesser-known because they were either better at subterfuge or much better at keeping a low profile.”
“Is it real?” someone asked.
“Is mythology real?” I repeated the question.
“No,” the same young woman answered.
I smiled. “By definition, a myth is a story based on zero facts or evidence. However, cultures all around the world have traditions that are based on myths. Take Santa Claus for example. Forgive me if any of you are still under the impression a fat guy wearing a red velvet suit is sliding down your chimneys on Christmas Eve. Is Santa real?”
There was a resounding no.
“But who is he? Where did he come from?”
I looked around the room and felt like I was engaging them. They were being forced to think. Forced to question things they had known their entire lives.
“What about Christmas trees or Easter? All of these things are based on something that happened a long time ago. Those stories have evolved, and we just accept them for what they are because that’s what we’ve been programmed to do. While we know Santa isn’t real, for many of us, our childhoods were filled with stories about Santa and many of us still believe in Christmas miracles. This is because we have our own version of mythology. It’s not nearly as cool as the Greek version, but it’s essentially the same thing.”
I could see some of them were catching on to where I was going but as usual, there were the few blank stares. Those were the students that were really only there to get the credit. They didn’t give a shit about learning about something that was truly fascinating. At least, it was fascinating in my opinion.
My eyes shifted back to the hunk sitting in the front row. He was writing in a notebook, something I hadn’t seen in forever, it felt like. Whatever it was he was writing looked serious. His jaw was set as he furiously scribbled across the page.
He looked up, catching me staring. “Sorry,” he muttered. “What you said resonated. I just wanted to jot a few things down.”
I smiled. “Good. Thank you. That was the whole idea. I want you all to think about what you believe today and why you believe it. It will help you understand the ancient civilizations that put a great deal of stock into the gods they worshipped. I hope it will give you a better understanding of the ancient Greek culture. For anyone on the path of a history major, this class is a huge foundation for all the things you will learn about later on. Folks that are pursuing a literature degree will also be able to use the information. Look at what Shakespeare did with it.”
There were a few chuckles and I once again got the impression they all thought I was full of shit and blowing a lot of hot air. Except the man in front. He was intense. I felt like he was hanging on to every word I said. It was a little disconcerting. I felt a little flush.
I took off my jacket, not wanting to stink the place up with my sudden sweating. The man was literally making me sweat under his scrutinizing gaze. I draped the jacket over my chair before turning back to face the class.
Good god almighty. He was still staring at me!
“All right, let’s dive into the head honcho himself, Zeus, the son of the Titan Cronus. Zeus was the son no father wants. Then again, Cronus wasn’t winning any father of the year awards himself.”
I dove into the lecture I had planned and done several times before. I rarely needed notes. I knew the material very well and could carry on about Zeus and his many traits for hours.
“I guess a lightning bolt from Zeus is needed to liven this place up,” I joked a little while later, walking towards two young men who had dozed off.
I slapped my hand on their desks and jolted them awake. They looked properly embarrassed. I moved back to the front of the room and wrapped up the lecture.
“If anyone has any questions or you want to drop the class, I’ll be here for another ten minutes. Truthfully, if you want to drop, you’re not going to hurt my feelings. If you need a place to nap because you have noisy roommates, find somewhere else.”
The students filed out of the class. One of the older gentlemen, not the handsome one, a
pproached my desk. “Hi, I’m Alan Pierce,” he said.
“Hi, Alan.”
Behind Alan, tall, like holy shit basketball player tall, dark and very handsome rushed past my desk like he was afraid I might keep him after class. I returned my attention to Alan, giving him my undivided attention. Trying. I tried to give him my full attention, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the other man.
Chapter 7
Christopher
I had nothing waiting for me at home and figured I could check out the huge cafeteria on campus. I wanted to do a little people watching, even if the campus was a bit like a ghost town. I didn’t mind eating alone. Hell, I’d been basically eating alone for the last year. Olin rarely liked to be in the same room with me, let alone share an entire meal together.
I did a quick walk around the huge buffet line to see what was being offered. It actually looked good and unlike any cafeteria I had ever gotten to eat in during my college years. I headed back towards the front of the line, although there were only a few people grabbing a bite to eat.
I picked up a tray and began to slide it down the stainless-steel counter, reaching for some sliced fruit. It smelled amazing in the commons area. College students today had no idea how good they had it. I made my way around the counter, adding a slice of pepperoni pizza to the tray as well. It all looked so good.
“Hey! You sure were in a hurry to get out of class.”
I turned to see the gorgeous professor standing directly beside me. “Uh, hi, sorry.”
She grinned, her bright smile like being hit with a bolt of sunlight. “Are you afraid of introducing yourself to the teacher?”
“No.”
She leaned forward. “I don’t bite, at least not that hard.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to find words. She was a lot to take in. A good lot, but I didn’t know which way to go with the conversation.
“I’m kidding. Relax.”
I did relax. I realized I had stopped moving and slid down a few feet. “I enjoyed the class. I’m sorry I didn’t stop afterwards and tell you that. I’m Christopher Evans.”