AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It has come to our attention, Ms McLintock, that you have been trading...services...for grades.” The dean looks like a nasty smell has crawled up his nose. I don’t blame him. What he’s suggesting is abhorrent. My stomach churns in disbelief and horror at what he’s suggesting.
“Excuse me, what?” I blink in confusion.
“We have several anonymous reports claiming that you have been having sex with Professor Cox,” the dean continues, “possibly in exchange for higher grades.”
A disbelieving strangled sort of noise escapes my throat.
“You’re not denying it then?” He raises a greying bushy eyebrow at me expectantly.
“What? Yes! Of course I’m denying it!” I cry. I turn to my teacher who is sitting silently in the chair beside me and beseech him. “Why aren’t you denying it, Charles?”
“Ms. McLintock! It really does not favour your claim of innocence that you are on a first name basis with the teacher in question!” The dean gasps, scandalised.
“I did deny it, Charlotte,” Charles tells me sadly. “Many times. I’ve been here for hours.”
“This is outrageous! What evidence do you have?” I demand, turning back to face the Dean.
“Several anonymous reports that you have been seen going into Professor Cox’s house, and the fact that you are the highest scoring student in his class.”
“That’s because I work bloody hard!”
“Language, Ms. McLintock!”
“And I went to the house because I was dating his son!”
“A ‘fact’ which Mr Cox Jnr vehemently denies,” the dean tells me.
Realisation dawns. The fucker. I will fucking kill Charlie for this! This is all his doing. Revenge for my ending things with him...or refusing to put out. Probably both, as his ego is so wounded.
“Charles, please, you need to speak to him about this. This is because I finished things with him. You know what he’s like,” I beg my teacher to help me.
“I told you, Walter, that it was all lies, and Ms McLintock has corroborated everything I have just said, without any guidance or ‘conferring’ between us. You have to chalk this up to a silly prank.”
I’m devastated when my favourite professor won’t meet my eye, but eternally grateful that he is at least defending me.
“Be that as it may, I’m going to have to insist that Ms McLintock drops out of your class. Now, you can transfer-”
“What? No!” I practically scream at him. “I can’t change classes. I’ve almost graduated and I need this course on my resume. The other courses don’t fit with my work and childcare schedules!” I blurt out my secret without thinking.
“Childcare?” Charles Snr asks.
“Shit!” I cringe, slapping a hand over my big mouth.
“Language!” the dean retorts.
“Please don’t say anything, Charles. Please don’t tell Charlie! He doesn’t know. No one knows,” I beg.
“Look Walter, there has to be another solution here,” Charles states placatingly. “Why not let Ms McLintock finish my course and I will have someone else in the department grade all of her essays?”
“I would, Charles, but there’s one other piece of evidence that I’ve neglected to mention before now.” The dean stares at me, challenging and expectant, but I have no idea what his ace is. “I was hoping you would come clean Ms. McLintock and we could have saved everyone in the room this discomfort and embarrassment.”
Only, his expression doesn’t match his words; of anything, he seems gleeful and it makes me uncomfortable.
“What evidence?” Charles asks with a hint of trepidation.
The dean doesn’t answer, instead turning his tap top screen around on the desk to face us. There, in 21 inch widescreen full colour HD glory, is a photo of a girl stretched out on red satin sheets wearing a tiny black lace thong. Nothing more. She has long dark hair, full pouty lips, and huge green eyes which are..
Fuck.
