The clock was slowly inching towards 3 o’clock. The chemistry professor was still taking

a class, but I paid no attention to it. I was zoned out. “Vignesh! Vignesh!” I heard

someone call out my name, but it was all just background noise.

Suddenly a hard thump on my desk. It was the chemistry Ma’am. “Living in your dream

world again? Come to my desk after 3,” she told me. “Let’s call it a day and finish the

assignments when you come on Monday,” she announced to the rest of the class,

grinning at me.

I was so tired already, and she only worsened my day. “Dude, the rest of us would pay

to have alone time with Kavya ma’am,” said the boy next to me.

“Of course you would, you fucking virgin,” I told myself but acted like I didn’t pay

attention to him. After the bell rang, I went to the canteen instead of following her.

Then the restroom, and after 20 minutes, I decided to head to her desk.

Following a teacher’s order obediently is something I have never done since middle

school. She was alone in the staff room, correcting some answer sheets. “Wow! Look

who finally decided to show up,” she said mockingly. She removed her glasses and put

her pen in the drawer.

“Sit down,” she pointed at a chain in front of her. “I know breakups can be hard, but-“My breakup is my personal issue. I don’t want to discuss it with you right now,” I

snapped. I didn’t want to talk about it with my closest friends, let alone with a teaching

staff. I realized I shouldn’t have snapped at her like that, but she just smiled.

“Right, I know that. But it is my job to make you pass your exams. Your grades have

been the worst ever since whatever happened,” she told me. “Well, I haven’t been the

brightest student before that,” I replied. “Yes, but you never failed your tests,” she said.

She has a point. It is true that the breakup affected my studies and sports a lot. I am the

college football team captain. So I always used that as an excuse for the low grades, I

scored. But failing tests is something new.

“Okay, yes, the breakup has been hard,” I shook my head and admitted. I felt a sudden

change in her face, like she felt sorry for me. She put her hand above mine to comfort

me. Someone’s pity was the last thing I needed, but it didn’t feel like the end of the

world.

“You can come to my house. For special class, you know. You still have a whole month

left before your finals,” she told me. “I don’t want to be a burden, ma’am. Don’t worry,

I’ll pass the exams,” I told her. “It won’t be a burden, trust me. I want to help you,” she

insisted.

I didn’t want to come off as a rude asshole when she was genuinely nice to me, so I

agreed. She sent me her location on WhatsApp and asked me to start today. I went

home and gave it some thought. I decided I’d go to her house today. I didn’t bother

telling any of my friends because I knew they’d freak out.

Almost everyone in our college has a crush on Kavya ma’am, students and professors.

And she is indeed beautiful. She always wore a saree. It’s like a dress code for female

professors. But the way she dresses is always enchanting.

She made sure the colour of the saree contrasted with her milky white skin. She always

wore backless blouses. She showed only the right amount of her waist, not too much or

too little. She’s in her mid 20’s, but she married last year.

It was easy to find her house. She lived in the city centre, but the street was a little

isolated. The house had two floors, and it was big. ‘Ramachandran. V’ the nameplate

beside the gate read. Below that, the word advocate was written. That made sense. Her

parents found a rich guy and made her marry him.

I rang the bell from outside the gate, and it automatically opened. There was a BMW

parked inside and her yellow Vespa. She was waiting for me with the front door open with a smile.

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