Chapter 7
Chiamaka hurried across campus, clutching her books tightly, trying to ignore the murmurs that seemed to follow her everywhere. Every glance from her classmates felt loaded, each whisper like a dagger aimed at her confidence. The rumors about her private sessions with Professor Eze had spread faster than she could have imagined.
Nneka caught up with her near the library. "Chia, everyone's talking! Some think you've got a special arrangement with the professor," she said, her voice a mixture of amusement and concern.
Chiamaka's cheeks burned. "It's… it's just tutoring," she muttered, though the words felt hollow. She didn't need to explain herself—not to them, not to anyone.
"But you know how rumors are," Nneka continued. "People love to twist things. Be careful. You don't want the whole campus gossiping about you."
Chiamaka nodded silently, her mind elsewhere. Her thoughts kept returning to the private sessions, to Professor Eze's presence, the way he watched her, corrected her, and yet, somehow, made her feel both challenged and… alive.
The lecture ended quickly, but Chiamaka hesitated before leaving. She lingered behind, pretending to review her notes, heart racing as the office door came into view. The corridors were nearly empty, the usual bustle replaced with an eerie quiet that seemed to heighten her anticipation.
"Chiamaka," came the familiar voice.
She turned, startled, and found Professor Eze standing just behind her, his eyes dark and focused. The air between them seemed charged, heavy with unspoken tension.
"Sir…" she whispered, unable to find any other words.
"No one else is here today," he said, stepping closer. "Good. Focus is easier when there are no distractions."
Chiamaka nodded, her pulse quickening. She followed him into the office, feeling the familiar warmth, the faint scent of books and his cologne enveloping her.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Today, we focus on anticipation. You need to see what others overlook—both in formulas and in yourself."
She took her seat, trying to steady her trembling hands. The notebook in front of her seemed impossibly dense, but she forced herself to focus. He moved around the desk slowly, each step deliberate, each glance purposeful.
"Observation isn't just academic," he said, leaning slightly over her desk. "It's about understanding patterns… reactions… impulses. Do you see the difference?"
Chiamaka nodded, though her mind was spinning. The way he leaned closer, the proximity of his body, the subtle brush of his hand as he pointed to an error—it was all electric. Her concentration wavered, but she tried to stay grounded.
"Good," he said, straightening. "You're improving. But tomorrow, we will test your courage in a new way. Preparation isn't just mental—it's emotional."
Her chest tightened. Emotional preparation? The meaning behind his words made her pulse race.
A sudden knock on the office door startled her. "Chia! Are you coming?" Nneka's cheerful voice echoed from the corridor.
Professor Eze's eyes darkened slightly, not in anger, but in intensity that left Chiamaka breathless. "Ignore them. Your focus is here, not out there."
Chiamaka nodded silently, turning her attention back to the notes and problems he had handed her. Every solution, every correction, every subtle glance drew her deeper into the tension she couldn't name.
When the session ended, she stepped out into the corridor, heart pounding. The campus felt louder, the whispers sharper, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still in the office, with him, in the moment that both thrilled and terrified her.
That evening, her phone buzzed with another message:
"Focus. Anticipation. Courage. Tomorrow… we go further."
Her fingers shook as she read it. Each word was a reminder of the dangerous path she was treading—drawn by curiosity, fascination, and an undeniable attraction she could not ignore.
Lying in bed, the shadows seemed to move in rhythm with her thoughts. Every sound outside—the laughter of distant students, the rustle of leaves—felt amplified. Tomorrow's session promised more than just academic lessons; it would challenge her mind, her heart, and her self-restraint.
She closed her eyes, knowing that with each passing day, she was being drawn deeper, further into a game she wasn't sure she could control. And yet, a thrill coursed through her—a dangerous, intoxicating thrill she didn't want to resist.
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Cliffhanger: Chiamaka's curiosity and tension deepen as the private sessions continue, while campus whispers threaten to expose their connection, leaving readers desperate for the next chapter.
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