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W I C K E D
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Chapter Two - A Study in Stimulation
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Amna and the entire class watched in astonishment, as the geeky professor, who had entered the classroom mere minutes ago, tore off the tousled toupee and took down his glasses to reveal an unexpectedly handsome man who replied to the audacious jock with a jaunty smile and a cheeky, "'Course you are Professor Raizada, can I take my seat now?"
Professor?
Horrified Amna poked Jessica with an understandable lack of gentleness as she attempted to awaken her still drowsy best friend.
Hai Allah. This was not going to be good.
"Presumptions are such an intricate part of one's life- that half the time you don't even realize you are making a presumption... friends attempting to poke their snoring friends awake in the middle of my class for instance 'presume' I would take offence to their friends sleeping habits."
Amy's eyes shot up, a tightly reigned glare basking in them as she used the sharp end of her pencil to prod pointedly at Jessica - who rewarded her with a sharp, "What the-!" before noticing the silent din of the classroom.
Hell, Amna silently finished for her What the Hell.
She watched an amused smirk ride up the man she now knew to be Professor Aryan Singh Raizada - famed lawyer and apparent jerk.
And then she watched him arch a perfect brow making her swallow before she told herself he couldn't possibly have heard her thoughts.
Hell indeed.
* * *
This was apparently going to be more amusing than he'd thought, Aryan realized with a smooth slow grin, as the judgmental little darling prodded her friend awake regardless of his pointed barb.
Well, well well...maybe this wouldn't be so drastically boring after all.
His eyes glittering in amusement, he shoved a hand into his pockets and turned back to the rest of the class.
Still dumbfounded.
He sighed, well if he was going to be saddled with a class of robotic twerps all summer the least he could do was rile them up a bit ... It wasn't like they could fire him anyway.
Stimulate them the Dean had said. Well he'd stimulate them alright.
Having finally completed folding the class-schedule in his hand, Aryan Singh Raizada, proceeded to take aim and fire with precision only those with true expertise in throwing paper planes could compete with. Said paper plane landed with adroit grace, right on top of the massive mass of unattended hair Josh Keegan happened to be cursed with.
The poor chap looked up sharply, his shock so immensely amusing Aryan realized any attempt on his part not to exploit such a perfect specimen of a typical mamma's boy, would be futile. He simply couldn't resist ...
"Mr. Keegan," Aryan began, firmly, his voice interjected with just the right amount of Professor-ish authority, "...I'm going to go out on a limb here and say tighty-whiteys instead of boxers."
"Excuse me?"
Aryan looked up distractedly, silently laughing as he repeated with a straight face -" Your underwear Mr.Keegan you wear tighty-whiteys don't you ... or at least I presume you do since you seem to have a permanent lack of circulation issue- that and slight constipation - it's in the way you tend to bunch your facial muscles...am I right?"
Josh Keegan, Aryan noted with an amused nonchalance, looked like he was having a seizure. Aryan wondered idly if coronaries were common under-thirty.
Much to his surprise a sharp feminine voice broke in, "That Sir is harassment, not only are you singling Josh out but your comments amount to sexual harassment, and are strictly against the Universities Code of Conduct!"
Well, well, well...little Miss. Judgmental had a voice did she?
Aryan felt the corner of his lips tilt up, against his will as he struggled to hold her furious gaze without winking outrageously at her just to rile her up, instead he focused on what she'd said, pressing the send button on the text he'd typed out as he did - "Oh I would hate for Mr.Keegan to feel he'd been singled out ...Miss. Hassan...is it? How about you? I would say tighty-whities but you seem to have a bit of a mouth on yourself...I'm thinking something in red ..."
"You are beyond out of line Mr.Raizada!" snapped the young lady in question, her face redder than a tomato as she stood up books in hand and prepared to walk out of his class.
"So you keep saying, Miss. Hassan, but I wonder - what are you going to do about it? Are you going to run to daddy?" he drawled in a voice of amused nonchalance.
Even feet away Aryan could feel the burn of the glare Miss. Hassan was leveling his way, touched a soft spot there had he?
Mere feet away from him now, Aryan watched as she clenched her right fist as is she was physically restraining herself from socking him and then bit out with the cold confidence bred of an upbringing where you knew exactly how powerful 'daddy' was and stated - "I am going to go report you, Sir, to the relevant authorities and then I am going to sit back and wait for the university to slap a harassment suit on you. And then I am going to hope someone in an orange jumpsuit decides to ask you about your underwear, Sir."
Taking a pointed step towards her Aryan noted the careful shuffle of her feet, yet pride kept her from stepping back, Aryan bit back yet another smile. Not so dull after all.
Aryan let out a exaggerated sigh and turned pointedly away to address the shocked silent class - spineless noobs - "Presumptions ... As I said they are everywhere. You see Ladies and Gentlemen, here Miss. Hassan's inspiring diatribe is based on the presumption that the 'higher authorities' don't know what I've just said or done ... correct?"
A murmur of assent swept through the room, freezing Amna 'Amy' Hassan in her steps.
Aryan could practically hear the word ring in her head - Presumption?
Aryan waited ...not long now...
Three.
Miss. Hassan took a step towards the door...
Two.
She turned around shot one last look at him and reached for the handle...
One.
The door to the classroom swung wide open, the figure stepping in out of the corridor eliciting a number of murmurs from the gallery full of students.
"Dean Barrymore?" gasped Miss.Hassan, clearly caught off-guard to find the ever elusive Dean on campus, in front of her none the less.
Aryan watched in silent amusement, as Dean Rachel Barrymore, more commonly referred to in the circuits as the 'Burial' Judge, looked down her nose as the slightly vertically challenged student in front of her nodded distractedly and then focused her attention on him and flashed him her dazzling smile as she asked, her voice ringing through the gallery, " Aryan! Darling! Have you tried out the stimulated lessons technique we were talking about? How has this lot been taking it?"
Aryan, his gaze still fixed on a pair of horrified hazel eyes a few feet behind Dean Barrymore's impressive height and hourglass curves, answered her with a suave smile he'd honed to perfection over the years, "Oh it's been a very stimulated class, Dean Barrymore, very stimulated indeed."
* * *
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Author's Note:
Okay so I have exams which i MUST study for so, till December updates are on Friday's only. I apologize in advance for being so late with the updates but -- well lack of inspiration plus actual reality is kicking my ass.
That said - Yes the Wicked preview with Aryan's 'fur-ball' is yet to come.
No i will not tell you when.
Let's just keep in mind Aryan is a Ladies man...Ladies with an 's'...
😆
Previous-
Chapter One - The Professor of Presumption
Next -
Chapter Three - Yes Sir, No Sir. Three Blonde's Full.
Edited by Nmyra - 9 years ago
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