*MATURE CONTENT WARNING*
"If my classroom is your playground, then your body is mine."
Dr. Zaain Kazem is a cold and routine Palestinian-Canadian professor with something to hide.
Adeola Adebayo is a sharp, international student running from a broo...
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Neruda University School of Law Obomsawin Ladies Dormitories 13 weeks left of the semester
"Can you see anything?" Kazem asks and I hear him clicking around.
"I can see what you're writing on the digital board but I still can't see you. It's like a total black screen. Are you sure that your camera is on?"
"Truthfully, I'm not sure if it's on or not, Miss Adebayo." He seems almost frustrated and I can't tell if it's with the program, with himself or with me.
"Well, is there a little light next to the camera lens?"
"Uh... there's a lot of lights that I'm seeing honestly. I keep getting this error saying that my camera isn't connected."
"Alright, can you screen-share with me so I can see what's going on?"
"Can I pardon?"
"Screen share..."
"I'm not sure what you're referring to, Miss Adebayo," he sounds like Mama.
Now I understand why the projector in class is collecting dust. It wasn't until I started making PowerPoints for class that that thing was ever put to use.
I find it a bit funny that someone like Kazem is so technologically challenged. If I didn't absolutely despise him I might have even found it cute.
However, his incompetence annoyed me. It's unbelievable that someone who can't even make a simple slideshow has the mouth to belittle and demean his students the way that he does.
"It keeps displaying the same error, ugh! I give up. Maybe we could try again tomorrow morning," he suggests, "What's a good time for you?"
No! I can't have him sucking up my entire weekend with this rubbish.
"Why don't I just come over and help you in person?"
"Certainly. I have an empty slot of time tomorrow for two hours, you could stop by at any time after lunchtime."
I know he's not being serious right now. I shouldn't have answered that email.
"No, I meant right now."
He's silent for a few seconds and for a moment I think the connection dropped.
"I don't think that would be possible, Miss Adebayo. It's very late."
"It's hardly ten. Come on, it'll take five minutes. In and out, and you'll be all set up for class."
"Yes, but-"
I don't have time for this.
"Just meet me in the library in twenty minutes, we can get this all squared away."
"Even if this was the appropriate time for such a thing... my computer is a desktop." his voice is low as if he was almost scared to say it.
"Oh. So, how are you using the computer in the classroom when they lock rooms up in the evening?"
"It's not the computer in class, it's my home desktop..."
