Hot For Teacher(142)

At least, that’s how Savannah felt about the pointless subject. She had a plan, every step between there and medical school carefully calculated. And the only reason American Civilizations had weaseled its way into her jam-packed schedule was its ability to meet her general education requisite for her undergraduate degree.

So there she sat, the first day of her freshman year, waiting for the sixty minutes of slow torture to begin. At least she only had the ridiculous class every other day. But even that was too often for her liking.

They still had a few minutes before class was scheduled to begin and their professor was nowhere to be seen, so the mob of students around her chattered amongst themselves, regaling tales of their summer adventures and enthusing over the ‘Welcome Week’ activities the university’s Student Activities Council had planned. With an inward eye roll at their vapid ramblings, Savannah fished the massive history textbook out of her backpack, plopped it on the desk in front of her, and waited patiently for class to start.

It’s not that she didn’t like her classmates. On the contrary, she didn’t know a single one of them. She didn’t need to. For they were certain to be the same empty-headed, social-hierarchy-obsessed people she’d been surrounded by her whole life. She’d never belonged, never been one of them. People like them lived for sex, parties, and fun – the now. But much like the past, the present was of little interest to Savannah. All she cared about was the future. And thanks to a lot of hard work on her part, it was brighter than ever. All she had to do was survive her ridiculous general education requirements.

Her best friend, Julie, always teased her that she was a little, old spinster woman, trapped in a young adult’s body. Most teens might take that as an insult. To Savannah, it was an enormous compliment. She was mature for her age, responsible. She didn’t need juvenile exploits to have fun. Besides, fun was severely overrated.

The bell rang and their teacher strolled out of the office at the front of the classroom. He was a sight to be seen. Tall, with broad shoulders suited more for contact sports than academia. Casually tousled, short blonde locks the color of honey, mussed by absent minded finger strokes. And bright cornflower eyes, bluer than the clearest of skies, set in a tanned, chiseled face Michelangelo would’ve killed to paint. A face she would’ve recognized blindfolded.

Savannah nearly fell out of her chair. Jake?

Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird on a sugar high as he strode to the front of the classroom, his gait confident and relaxed. What in the name of everything good and holy was he doing there?

When she’d signed up for American Civilizations with ‘Dr. Anderson’ as the teacher, Savannah pictured ‘Dr. Anderson’ as a stuffy, old man with leather patches on his tweed jacket sleeves. Or at least a frumpy old woman with the waist of her skirt hitched beneath saggy, pendulous breasts. But no, apparently ‘Dr. Anderson’ was Dr. Jake-freaking-Anderson.

Savannah didn’t have a childhood memory without Jake in it. He’d been her older brother Preston’s best friend and partner in crime long before she’d graduated from diapers. The guy had practically lived at their house growing up. And, even though she’d only been a kid back then, she’d been head over heels in love with him for just about every single second of that time.

That was, of course, until Preston got hurt. And Jake disappeared forever.

Ten years. Savannah hadn’t seen or heard from Jake in ten long years. But there he stood at the front of her classroom, just as perfect and overwhelmingly male as she remembered. More so even. For eight-year-old Savannah couldn’t quite appreciate the raw masculinity Jake exuded. But eighteen-year-old Savannah still felt every single butterfly of youthful infatuation, only with a womanly appreciation completely foreign to her. One look at him sent those butterflies fluttering low into her belly. Maybe ‘the now’ wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Regardless, one fact became absolutely, one hundred percent certain – history just became a lot more interesting.

***

Jake gathered his notes from his desk and tapped the stack of papers into alignment. Nervous anticipation filled him. His first day as an adjunct professor. His first class of his very own. Deep breaths. He could do this. This is what he’d worked for all those years. He’d survived years of school and a beastly doctoral dissertation. He could teach. He could make an impact. He could share his love of history with the next generation.

Adjusting the knot of his tie, he rolled his tense shoulders back and stepped out into the lecture hall. A crowd of rowdy young people in their late teens and early twenties filled the ascending rows of desks. Jake cleared his throat and waited as all heads turned his way. Young faces looked to him in expectation. He smiled, channeling all the confidence he could muster.