Mr. Evans

1

Anxiety racked your brain. Driving through the crowded streets was hard enough. Doing it while lost wasn't for the weak. Of course, you should've tried to drive around campus before the first day. That would've saved you the time and mental strain you were struggling with.

Old buildings towered over the pavement, making everyone and everything feel inferior. Even the newer, brighter buildings cower in their glory. A rare beauty that the university tended to go overboard with their promo for it.

"Damn, get out the fucking way!"

The beautiful and expensive school also had too many walkways. The people who lived on campus needed their precious commute areas. Too bad it scrambled people's nerves when they were trying to find parking.

Your nerves were on edge. It seemed that every turn was a dead end leading to another packed parking lot. One would think leaving forty-five minutes early would stop this from happening.

Finally, you found a parking garage but it was a whole block away from the fine arts building you needed to be in. Grumbling to yourself you parked in an open spot and made your way to the building. Checking your phone, your eyes nearly popped out. Damn, you're almost twenty minutes late!

You still had to find the lecture room. You couldn't help the racing heart and sweaty eyes. What would the professor think? He'd have to understand, right? C'mon, it's just the first day.

After another few minutes and endless wandering, You stumbled upon the room number. Pushing the oak doors open, You paused when all eyes landed on you. Wordlessly, you kept my head down and found an empty seat at the front of the room.

The professor continued to talk while he pressed a syllabus to your desk. There was a slide showing what they were talking about. Late policy.

"Today is the first day of class, so I will accept the lateness, however after four tardies, I'm afraid I'll have to start dropping your grades by a percent for each tardy. These can be excused, but only for good reason," The professor spoke.

His voice was deep, not too deep, but just the right amount to match his woodsy-looking design. A beefy man, with bulging arms, or it was just his too-tight striped shirt. With brown hair, blue eyes, and a greying salt n' pepper beard, he was magazine ready for sexiest teacher of the year.

"I hate late bitches," you heard a girl snicker from behind you.

You turned around and your eyes narrowed on the offender. Her green eyes were staring straight back at your e/c ones. Your mouth opened to say something before you were cut off by the burly hot teacher.

"What's your name hon?"

"Oh uh- it's Y/n Y/l/n," you turned to face him.

As he stood in all his glory, you realized just how handsome he was. His nose was slightly bigger than average, with a normal slope. Pretty pink lips surrounded by a perfectly trimmed beard. Even with his aging forehead creases, he was gorgeous.

"Well as you all saw, Y/n was late by twenty minutes."

Your jaw dropped. You couldn't believe this man just called you out like that.

"If that happens just let me know after class what's going on," he continued.

You buried part of your face in the palm of your hand. He went on to talk about the rest of the syllabus. His talking gave you time to look over the paper in front of you. Seems like you only missed the course objectives and the icebreaker for the class. His name was printed at the top.

Course: History Western Civilizations-301

Professor: Chris Evans

His contact information was below that. The class was a three hundred level so it was going to be essay intense.