The One Where I’m a Student in Professor Emerson’s Class

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I place myself in Sylvain Reynard’s novel “Gabriel’s Inferno” to give the asshole Alpha Male love-interest Professor Gabriel Emerson a piece of my mind.

Professor Emerson glared at Julia. “Is English your first language?”

The chubby blonde girl in dark clothing sitting to Julia’s left snorted in disgust.

Emerson’s glare transferred to that girl. “Something to say, Miss Treglia?”

“As a matter of fact, I do have one thing to say, Professor: Vai a fartelo mettere nel culo, stronzo.” The girl said it in a bright tone with a big smile, so anyone who didn’t know better would think her words were complimentary.

There was a smattering of giggles among the other students, and the Professor’s face turned red. “That is highly inappropriate, Miss Treglia.”

“And I give exactly zero shits because I’m transferring out of your class, officially as of next week. Oh, and by the way, I’ve recorded this class session on my phone. I’m sure the admin would be happy to hear of your xenophobic commentary, your bullying of the more reserved students and your incompetence in this particular field.”

“I expect to see you after class.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Expect to be disappointed then. I have a meeting with the Dean right after class.” She checked her watch. “And you’re running over your scheduled time, boss. I’m sure your next students are waiting in the hall.” She stood and packed her books into her Sweeney Todd messenger bag. “Have fun.”

Julia cleared her throat and whispered to her, “Melissa? Thanks for saying something.”

“No problem,” she replied just as softly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You can sit with me in the cafeteria later, and I’ll help you with your Italian.”

Julia smiled. “I’d like that.”

Melissa headed out the door, ignoring the ruckus ensuing behind her.

The Italian used basically means “Go fuck yourself, asshole.” And yes, I took offense right at Chapter 1 of the first book because of my ethnic pride.

And no, my Italian isn’t actually that good (well, not beyond swearing and talking about food). But, if I were in Emerson’s class in the first place, it would be to get closer to my ancestral roots.


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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.