Garden of Eden

2

Men chased Atalanta; she ran. And while she vowed to remain a maiden for life, one thing managed to catch her eye. That thing?

A golden apple.

—Greek Mythology

***

"If you're looking for an easy A, you can leave right now."

Atalanta sat straight in her chair. She couldn't help but feel called out. She had expected this class to be an easy A. But, to be fair, she had also expected Professor Pattinson to be hell on earth, when in reality, he was heaven.

In appearance, that is. Otherwise, he was proving himself to be quite brutal. Already, five minutes into class, he was scolding his students like they were children in a schoolyard.

"This curriculum is meant to be challenging," he continued. "This isn't the kind of class you can bullshit. I will not be lenient with--"

He stopped in front of the desk of the boy next to Atalanta, where she could hear the student chatting with the one to his right. "If I wanted to be taught by an angry British guy," he was saying, "I would've taken potions at Hogwarts."

Atalanta cracked a smile.

Professor Pattinson showed no such amusement. He seemed to rise in height as he waited with a scary calm for the boy to notice him. The class went silent. Atalanta's smile fell.

"Anything you'd like to share with the class?" the professor said.

The boy paled. "I--"

"Well, it must be more important than what I was saying." The professor gestured to the class. "Please, share."

"N-No," the boy said. "It's not important."

The professor gave him a hard, lingering stare. "That's what I thought." He turned back to the rest of the class. "As I was saying, I am not lenient with disrespect. 10 points from Mr..." He looked at the roster in his hand. "Mr. Anderson."

The guy threw up his hands in protest. "This is fucking ridiculous--"

"Funny, because I wasn't joking." Professor Pattinson crossed his arms and leaned forward in a way that made Atalanta catch her breath. "Feel free to leave my class at any time."

And, to Atalanta's surprise, the boy gathered his things. "Fuck this," he muttered. "I don't have time for your crazy ass."

The professor watched him go, eyebrows raised, an odd smile lifting his cheeks. "How colorful!" he delighted. "Would anyone like to join him? I can promise you will not be missed."

The class remained quiet. Atalanta could only hear the sound of her own wild, nervous heartbeat.

"Shame for him," he continued. "Guess he will miss out on the Golden Apple."

He went to his desk, and from the drawers he revealed a large golden apple. He placed it beside the red one Atalanta had given him, and the size difference was laughable.

"The student with the highest GPA at the end of the semester will be awarded this apple," he stated proudly.

Atalanta didn't know what overtook her. Perhaps it was her shock from the incident with the boy moments before, or perhaps it was her pride from working with apples her whole life. But, incredulously, she scoffed aloud.

As soon as the sound escaped her lips, she regretted it. The professor turned to face her and her eyes widened.

"Say something, At-a-lanta?" he said. She swallowed at the way he said her name. "Care to join Anderson after all?"