Professor, Professor || BWAM

the third.

I haven't even gotten to the first class yet and mama has already called me three times this morning.

"Mama, I hear you! But I have to go. I will be late oo!"

"Okay, daughter. I wish you the best. Just remember the plan and why you're there."

"Trust me, it's the only thing on my mind."

"Relax, it will all be okay. Don't be intimidated. Show them what the Adebayos are all about."

"Yes, mama. I'll make you and papa proud."

"Mo nifẹ rẹ."
(I love you.)

I could hear her smile beaming through the phone.

"You already make us proud." Then the phone hung up.

I look into the green face of my golden watch.

8:47 am it reads.

Alright, I've got thirteen minutes to find the classroom in this complicated building. It's so huge and imposing I fear that if I were to take a turn down the wrong hallway I'd never be able to find my way out. I'd be doomed to retrace these gaudy, marble-laden corridors for eternity.

I stop the first person I see to ask for directions, a tall boy who looks around my age. Tugging at his knit sweater I ask, "Excuse me, do you know where classroom A17 is?"

He looks down at me, and his face warms into a smile, "Sure, A17 is upstairs. First door on the right." he has a touch of an accent that I just can't place.

"Thank you so much!"

"Isn't that Kazem's classroom?"

"Yes, exactly! I get the sense that he's kind of famous around here."

His thick eyebrows raised, "Infamous, really. You're not from around here are you? Every semester, at least two-thirds of his students drop the class before finals, so hang in there."

"Oh, I'm not taking his class, I'm his teacher's assistant."

"Damn, that sucks. I was kind of hoping I'd get to see you around again."

I laughed, "Why wouldn't I be around? I'll be his TA all semester long."

He sighed, his eyes cast with pity, "Oh, you're really not from here."

I shook my head.

"Let me guess...You're a TA, which means that you're a grad student, so that means you're intelligent. You're also well-spoken not to mention absolutely stunning so...Nigerian, right?"

My cheeks burned for a reason beyond my comprehension and I could feel my lips starting to twitch into a grin, "Lucky guess. I just moved here a few weeks ago. What about you? I think I hear a little accent there as well?"

He laughed, "Ah, whenever I think my accent isn't noticeable I'm always humbled. Well, you got me. I'm from Russia."

"Grad student?"

"Assistant to the department head."

I look down at my watch again:
8:53 am
Seven minutes.

No, I can't be late on my first day.

"It was so nice to meet you..." I trailed off, waiting for him to fill the blank where his name should be.

"Ilya."

"So nice to meet you Ilya, but I have to get to class."

"Of course," he takes my hand up in his and kisses it, "it was a pleasure."

Someone's a flirt.

I turn on my heels and start to speed-walk away.

"I didn't get your name!" Ilya calls after me.

I turned, "You'll get it if you see me around again," I winked and he smiled even wider.

I may be a foreigner but I'm no stranger to the game.

I bounded up the wide stone staircase, two steps at a time. When I reach the top, I see a long corridor of large wooden doors that looks identical to every other corridor with large wooden doors that I've seen so far and I get a feeling of malaise in my chest.

First door on the right, A17.

I look down at my watch again before opening the door: 8:57

Still have three minutes to spare, perfect.

I turned the chipped door knob, but the door wouldn't budge. I leaned against the door's mass whilst turning the knob again. The strap of my purse fell from my shoulder into the crease of my elbow.

Come...on!

Suddenly the door flung open and I almost fell as my weight shifted.

A masculine figure loomed over me, "Is there a reason that you so desperately wish to disrupt my class?"

I looked up at the towering figure, the mask obscuring half of his face only drew more attention to his intimidating dark chocolate stare, "You must be Professor Kazem, good morning."

"And who are you?" he gruffed, his burly hand holding open the door.

I was slightly taken aback by his attitude, "My name is Adeola Adebayo and I'm your teacher's assistant, sir." my eyes wander past him and I see all the students have their necks twisted back behind them, staring at me in wonder. The blackboard already covered with various topics scribbled all over its face. They were already in the middle of class?

He rolled his eyes, "For God's sake, they can't even send me a teacher's assistant that can come to class on time?"

"But, sir...doesn't this class start at 9am?"

"8:30," he spat, "Just hurry up, come inside. Don't take up any more of our precious time." he hurriedly ushered me inside and walked up to a podium on a raised platform. I followed after him, taking a seat in the prepared desk next to his stand.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," he projected, "If you know that you're going to be late to class, don't bother coming at all. A tremendous part of this course focuses on fairness and ethical behavior. " his eyes snapped to me, "It is unfair and unethical to punish everyone else for your poor time-management skills, Abola."

"Adeola, sir."

In a hushed voice he muttered, "Last a week, then I'll bother remembering your name."

I feel like this is so bad 😭
Also if there's any Yoruba people reading this, please correct me or offer suggestions in my DMs because I'm not Yoruba lol.