The game was called Teacher’s Pet and the rules were simple.

At the beginning of each school year, participants would each pick one student as their ‘pet.’ The participant must be with the same pet for one semester, unless he clears all stages of the game early.

The stages of the game are places scattered throughout campus. There are eight in total: any classroom, the library, the teacher’s office, the gym, the auditorium, the parking lot, the clinic, and the participant’s house.

The objective is to have sex with the pet in at least six areas. In order to prove that a level has been cleared, a fiber optic lens camera is concealed in a special spot located in each stage. Whoever clears the six stages first receives a thousand dollars from every losing participant.

Rumor has it the participants are all faculty members of a certain Thompson University. The game has been in practice for the last four years, with one Prof. K.M. being the brainchild and winner of the first and third year. The second and fourth year was won by a Prof. R.H. from the Mathematics department.

Players register themselves once a year at the beginning of each term. They must sign up for an account on the game’s website, where they will each deposit a thousand dollars in advance to a bank account. Players’ progress is monitored via e-mail with a password-protected encryption to watch captured videos online. All videos have a 24-hour shelf life before being permanently deleted from the website.

If a player decides to withdraw from the game, he is penalized another thousand dollars for the remaining participants to share. The rest of the earnings are received by the winner at the end of the game, and the site goes offline until the following year.

The fifth year of Teacher’s Pet commenced at the start of the semester, with six participants in total. Most had already chosen their pet within the first week, but two-time winner Prof. R.H. from the Mathematics department had not yet found one to his liking. Just as the subjects he taught, he approached everything with calculation. He was not one to make decisions easily.

A week had passed since the new term started. R.H. was about to wrap up his Statistics class when the door to his classroom opened.

A girl with shoulder-length hair stood by the doorway. She was a petite brunette at five feet, with eyes that were wide with apprehension on her pretty face when she approached him.

“Sorry I’m late,” she stammered, handing him a piece of paper. “I just came from the dean’s office.”

R.H. looked down. It was a notice of her late enrollment.

“Miss Sullivan.” He read her name in a low drawl. “Have you been given your schedule yet?”

The bell rang as she uneasily watched the rest of the students leave the room. “Yes.”

“Then isn’t it a little too late for you to join my class?”

She lowered her head, looking considerably flustered. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought I could make it on time.”

“I don’t let anyone else enter after I come in.” He stacked the papers on his desk with an audible thud. “Don’t do it again.”

“Yes, sir.” She swallowed. “It won’t happen again.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Sullivan.”

She gave him a quick nod before leaving the room as soon as she’d come.

The cellphone in his pocket vibrated. One new message.

R.H. glanced at his watch and scoffed. No wonder he didn’t see K.M. this morning.

R.H. looked at the late enrollment notice on his desk for a considerable while before picking it up and leaving the room.

Hayleigh did not know what to think of her Math teacher.

It had only been two weeks since the new term started, and although she’d had her fair share of strict teachers back in high school, they paled in comparison to her Statistics professor.

Professor Henderson had a reputation for being one of the most difficult teachers on campus, and now she was experiencing it firsthand. He was clearly not the type to cross the moment she arrived late to his class on her first day. Since then she’d been punctual, and yet for some reason he’d developed the habit of calling her out at least once every meeting. Math was never her strong suit to begin with, and she despised feeling embarrassed every time she couldn’t answer his questions.

“I hate him,” Hayleigh declared as she slammed her Statistics textbook on her desk. “What did I ever do to him? Just because I’m late to his class once, he decides to humiliate me in front of the whole class every single time?”

Hayleigh slumped to her bed and faced her dormmate Tara, who was on her laptop with her earphones on. Tara looked up at her and quickly removed her earphones. “Sorry, what?”

Hayleigh shook her head with a sigh. “Nothing.”

“No seriously, what happened?” Tara asked, putting her laptop away. “Is your Stat professor bothering you again?”

Hayleigh collapsed to the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, and I’ve already failed three tests. I think I’m gonna be in trouble.”

Tara shrugged. “Maybe you can ask him for like a special project to make up for it.”

“I can’t even stand the idea of going near him. He scares the hell out of me.”

“This is Professor Henderson, right? The hot one?”

Hayleigh snorted. “Sure, until you take his class. Hardly anyone else is passing. He explains everything once and expects you to just get it. I think he’s got something against students.”

“Then he shouldn’t have been a teacher.” Tara laughed. “Thank God I don’t have to take Stat. He’s the only one who teaches it, right?”

“I know.” Hayleigh groaned, closing her eyes. “God, what am I going to do?”

Tara didn’t say anything. Hayleigh glanced up to find her dormmate already with her earphones back on.

Hayleigh sighed and buried her face to the sheets.

D plus.

It wasn’t a bad consolation prize to take after studying two hours longer than usual, but after three fails in a row, Hayleigh needed to get at least a B from now on to stay afloat.

As the bell rang and students rose from their seats to leave the room, Hayleigh stared at the blood red mark on her paper. Professor Henderson was still up front fixing papers. She chewed on her lip and mentally counted to three before finally finding the courage to walk up to him.

“Sir?”

Professor Henderson didn’t even bother looking up as he began slipping papers inside his satchel. “Yes, Miss Sullivan?”

Her mind drew a blank. She should’ve at least rehearsed what to say. For some reason, she could only stare at his hands, mesmerized at how much broader his arms and chest looked up close. Against his six foot frame, she had never felt any smaller.

“I’m waiting, Miss Sullivan.”

Hayleigh blinked in surprise as her gaze refocused on his face. She didn’t realize his eyes were a shade of stormy grey, which looked light against his dark hair. He eyed her with a bored, almost impatient stare.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to consult about my performance. I’m on a scholarship and I need to get at least a C in your class. I was wondering if I could take up a special project or something to bump up my grade somehow…”

“I don’t offer special projects.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Oh.”

“However, I am scheduled to hold a make-up class tonight.”

Her head shot up in surprise. “You are? Really?”

“Yes, in this very room.”

“Oh, thank God.” A mix between a laugh and sigh left her. “I still have a chance then.”

“8 pm, Miss Sullivan.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes sir.” She eagerly nodded as he left the room without another word.

When Hayleigh returned to Room 304 six hours later, she was surprised to find nothing but empty chairs.

For a moment she wondered if she’d gotten the room or time wrong, until Professor Henderson glanced up from his reading at her arrival. He had his legs up on the teacher’s desk with his sleeves rolled up, looking completely laidback. That adjective was something she never would’ve associated with the likes of him, but that pleasant surprise was cut short at the fact that she was the only student in the room.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, stock-still by the doorway.

“Apparently not having as much difficulty as you are.” He closed his book and removed his legs from the table. “Shall we begin?”

“Oh.” She slowly walked to the front row and dropped her bag to the floor. “Great.”

That was a complete and total lie. Everyone she knew was practically drowning in his class. Perhaps she was the only one crazy enough to put herself through extra classes with the infamous Professor Hell-derson. Thrice a week during broad daylight was bad enough.

“So.” He snapped her back into attention. “Since you’re the only one here tonight, I’ll adjust my lesson plan. What are you having problems with?”

He began wiping his thick-rimmed glasses with the front of his black cardigan. Hayleigh suddenly had the strongest desire to shrink and disappear from the room.

“Um.” She fumbled restlessly with her pen. “Everything?”

He didn’t seem surprised at her answer as he slipped his glasses on and began flipping through his textbook. “Where would you like to start?”

“From the very beginning...?”

He paused in turning to the next page. She expected to be skewered by those piercing grey eyes, but there was oddly no ice in his gaze tonight. Briefly, he massaged the back of his neck and promptly closed his textbook.

“Very well.” He sighed, grabbing a chalk. “Let’s begin.”

Over the next two hours, they reviewed four weeks’ worth of lessons. She’d been worried they’d cover everything too fast, but tonight he dropped all the jargon and gave more applicable examples, and she surprised even herself at how quickly she was able to catch on. He repeated himself less and she didn’t need to ask as many questions. In fact, at the short test at the end of the session, she was stunned to get a B minus, though it took her ten minutes longer than the allotted time to finish.

“Impressive. You’ve made a complete turnover in just one lesson.”

She held her test paper like it was made of gold. “I can’t believe it. And here I was thinking I’d be hopeless.”

“With this test alone, you’d technically already be in the upper 25% of the class.”

“Too bad it’s not a real test then.” She laughed. “I’m surprised no one else is here. Everyone I know has been having difficulty too.”

“Probably because nobody else knows about tonight.”

Hayleigh paused from slipping her paper inside her bag. “What do you mean?”

Professor Henderson turned around and began erasing the blackboard. “I never meant to hold a make-up class tonight.”

She eyed his back. “Then why did you?”

“You looked like you needed it. Besides, nobody else seems to care if they’re failing in my class or not.”

He dusted the chalk off his hands and faced her again. For some reason, she couldn’t look straight at him.

“That’s... very considerate of you,“ she muttered. “But you didn’t have to hold one tonight just for me.”

“It’s not like you can take it back,“ he said, packing up his things. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Hayleigh slumped back to her chair, completely dumbfounded. Who would’ve thought the famed asshole actually had a nice side?

“I feel terrible.” She slowly shook her head. “I’ve completely wasted your time.”

“Don’t be. It’s the least I could do after calling on you in class so much.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little. “Does that make things even now?”

A faint smirk formed on his lips in response. It was a minuscule gesture, and yet it lit up his face in a completely different way.

“If I rallied enough people, would you consider holding a refresher class once a week?” she asked.

“What if I said no and offered to teach you over coffee instead?”

Coffee? Had she heard him right?

Was Professor Henderson asking her out?

“I’m sorry. That was forward of me.” He dropped his gaze in her stunned silence as he stacked his books and notebooks. “But the offers stands, if you want to.”

Hayleigh could barely keep her jaw from hanging. Only one big why? echoed in her mind, and yet surely it would be rude to ask that out loud…

Her face began to feel like it was in front of an oven. Oh God, she was probably beet red by now…

“You know what, forget I ever asked,” he quickly said. “It was inappropriate.”

“Coffee’s fine.”

The words left her mouth of their own accord. It surprised even herself the moment she heard herself say it.

The smile—now a little wider—returned to Professor Henderson’s lips, and for a second it was almost worth it.

“Great. I look forward to it then.”

Hayleigh quickly slung her bag over her shoulder and forced a smile back. “See you around.”

She dashed out of the classroom without another word.

Rowen waited until Hayleigh left the room. When the door closed after her, he took out the phone from his pocket and sent a message.

Within seconds, a reply arrived.

His phone vibrated again. Another message, this time from K.M..

Without replying, Rowen slipped his phone back in his pocket and left the room.

“Hayleigh?” Tara’s fingers snapped in front of Hayleigh. “Hey!”

Hayleigh’s gaze refocused on her friend’s face. “Sorry, you were saying...?”

Tara’s forehead creased. “I wasn’t saying anything. I was calling you and you weren’t responding.”

Hayleigh dropped her bag, not realizing it was still on her shoulder even though she had been sitting on her bed for minutes. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much. You just walked in here like a zombie and scared the hell out of me. Is everything alright?”

No, everything was not alright. Her professor had just asked her out on a date. And she said yes.

What the hell had she been thinking? Why did he even ask his own student, of all people? She’d been under the impression she’d become persona non grata the way he called her out in class so much. Was that why he’d been picking on her? Because for some odd reason, he liked her?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You barely know each other.

Hayleigh buried her face to her hands. “I think I just did something completely stupid.”

“Uh oh. What did you do?”

There was no way Hayleigh could tell someone else about it, and yet Tara was one of the most sensible people she knew. Perhaps...

Hayleigh chewed on her bottom lip and winced. “I... may have said yes to a date.”

“Oh my God! Who?!” Tara squealed, sobering quickly when Hayleigh did not smile. “Wait. Is he ugly?”

“No.” Far from it.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Because he was her teacher? “I hardly know him.”

“Isn’t that the point of a date? To get to know each other better?”

Hayleigh opened her mouth, and yet there was nothing else she could think to say without giving away the truth.

“Wait, who is the guy?” Tara excitedly squirmed in her seat. “Is he someone I know?”

“No,” Hayleigh quickly answered. “He’s not from this school.”

Tara raised an eyebrow. “Is he from a dating app or something?”

Hayleigh had never even used 0ne before, but it was a better answer than she could ever think of in that moment. “Sure.”

“I did not expect you to be the swiping type.” Tara looked almost impressed. “Good for you though. At least you can have a social life now.”

Hayleigh groaned with a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never join me in any parties and you’re always studying.” Tara shrugged. “Now you can finally have some action.”

Professor Henderson’s face flashed in Hayleigh’s mind. A strange tingle went down her spine.

She quickly pushed the thought away and collapsed face down on her bed.

Oh God, she was in trouble.

Hayleigh couldn’t stop looking at her watch.

It was only ten minutes left before four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. She was currently at a bookstore, pacing restlessly down the aisles.

In a few minutes’ time, she was set to meet up with Professor Henderson at the café across the street. The journey to arrive at this point had been nerve-wracking, from constantly questioning her life decisions to messing up the entirety of her wardrobe deciding what to wear. Trying to act normal in Stat class the whole week had been just as difficult, and every time her eyes met Professor Henderson’s, her face would go up in flames. How was she going to manage having coffee with him at this rate?

This wouldn’t be a problem had she not said yes. It didn’t help she had a hard time saying no to people in general. What more to her own teacher? While Professor Henderson didn’t seem the type, the thought of her class standing being affected was something she may have risked had she said no.

The feel of book spines against Hayleigh’s fingers was calming as she ran a hand over the shelves. It was foolish to be tempting fate, especially when she had a scholarship to worry about. The last thing she needed was a distraction—and God forbid if somebody took it the wrong way—it could even be grounds for expulsion.

Then again, it was just coffee. What was the harm? It was too presumptive to get ahead of things though admittedly, it was flattering. While Professor Henderson looked to be at least ten years her senior and was practically one of the strictest professors on campus, he was undeniably handsome. He seemed much more approachable during make-up class, which was something he’d been kind enough to set up just for her. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as she thought. It wasn’t fair to pass judgment on someone she hardly knew.

Hayleigh straightened a nonexistent crease on her casual, pink floral dress. Tara had nearly strangled her as they argued over which outfit was most date-appropriate. Apparently, all guys loved a crop top and mini skirt, especially after Hayleigh was forced to show a profile of a guy she had dated once in high school when Tara demanded for a photo.

“Football team, you said? Yeah, he’d totally love that,” Tara concluded. “Just remind him of a cheerleader and you’re good to go.”

If only Tara had any idea who Hayleigh was really going out with.

Across the street, a man who looked oddly like Professor Henderson entered the café. Hayleigh’s pulse escalated to an all-time high as she took a deep breath and mustered the courage to leave the bookstore.

The door chimes seemed too loud, like it had just announced her presence to practically everyone in the entire coffee shop. She nearly wanted to bolt as soon as Professor Henderson’s eyes locked on hers when he immediately spotted her by the entrance, but he was already standing up and walking towards her. It was too late to back out now.

Professor Henderson approached her in a black leather jacket, grey V-neck, and denim jeans. He looked younger and much more approachable. He didn’t even look like a teacher at all.

“I’m glad you came,” he said with a small smile. He placed a feather-light touch on her arm as he guided her to their table. A waitress was quick to arrive, and he ordered a cappuccino while she went for an iced mocha.

“Sweet tooth?” he mused. She snapped into attention, yanking her wandering, uneasy gaze away from observing the coffee shop’s interiors.

“Yes,” she answered, sitting up straighter and fighting the urge to squirm. Why was it proving hard to look him straight in the eye and talk like a normal person?

“You look really uncomfortable.”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “That obvious, huh?”

“I understand if you think this is a bad idea.”

She was thankful for the waitress who placed two glasses of water on their table, giving her a few seconds more to gather her thoughts. “It’s just that... won’t you get into trouble or something?”

He slowly leaned back in his seat. “I don’t see how having coffee is a bad thing.”

“Fair enough,” she murmured, wringing her sweaty hands on her lap.

“So where are your books? I thought this was supposed to be a review?”

The smile on his lips loosened a knot inside her. She exhaled and allowed herself another laugh.

“You’re right. Where did we stop again the last time?”

They stayed in the coffee shop until closing time. The hours passed by like minutes, and while Professor Henderson chose to listen more than talk, Hayleigh grew comfortable talking about anything and everything with him. She shared her passions, hobbies, worries... practically her whole life story, and it felt good to confide in someone again. In turn he offered advice that only someone of his age could give, and by the end of the night, she felt infinitely closer to him than she’d been with anyone in a long while.

“You’d make more money as a therapist than as a Math teacher,” she concluded as his car stopped in the parking lot of her dormitory. “Ever considered switching careers?”

“I’m on a bond with this university,” he answered. “In return for teaching, they absorb some of my student loan.”

“That’s not a bad setup. Maybe I should do the same.”

“If you’re fine earning less for a few years, then go ahead.”

“Is that why you look like you hate teaching?”

He pulled on the brake. “Excuse me?”

Hayleigh bit her tongue. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

A hollow laugh rumbled in his throat. “No, it’s a fair observation. I’ve been teaching for five years. But I’ll say this: I dislike teaching less than I did when I first started.”

“Ever thought of changing your teaching style? You know, maybe be less strict or something?”

“No. It’s easy for students your age not to take things seriously. It’s easier to manage fearful students than unruly ones.”

“So like a dictatorship.”

He chuckled. “Something like that.”

“You’re crazy.” She shook her head with a laugh, which continued to an unstoppable giggle. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve had too much caffeine.”

He only regarded her with a pensive smile. Over the course of that afternoon his smiles were always reserved and far in between, and usually no more than a smirk at best. It almost felt like an achievement to earn one in succession now, aimed directly at her.

Suddenly, that realization made her become hyper-aware of everything, from the quiet darkness outside to the way he felt closer beside her inside the car.

Hayleigh uneasily cleared her throat. “Well, I had fun today.”

“Me too,“ he said. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

Despite having spent most of the day with him, she was still yet to figure out what he must’ve seen in her to ask her out. It felt wrong to keep questioning it, and yet it nagged in the back of her mind. Perhaps if he wasn’t her teacher, it wouldn’t bother her as much...

“Thanks for driving me home, Professor.” She undid her seatbelt. “You didn’t have to.”

“Call me Rowen, please.” He shifted in his seat to face her completely. “And I hope it’s okay if I call you Hayleigh.”

“That’s fine,” she said in a small voice. Her gaze darted to the steering wheel, to anywhere else except those intense, grey eyes. Her heart began to race, though it was hard to tell how much of it was from the coffee.

She placed a hand on the door. “Well, have a good night.”

His fingers gently reached for her arm to hold her back. When she faced him again, his lips claimed hers.

Her mind went blank. For seconds, all she could think about was how his mouth felt warm and full with the faint taste of black coffee. His lips were assertive but gentle. Testing her, asking her.

The right thing, the proper thing would be to push him away. It was wrong to be kissing her teacher in front of her goddamned dormitory. So what if it was in his tinted car on a late Saturday night? Anyone could still see, and then they’d both be in major trouble...

And yet, the voice of reason could do nothing to stop what was happening. His lips felt so nice, and despite the overwhelming feeling that nearly robbed her of her breath, she couldn’t break away.

His hand moved to her nape, deepening the kiss. She felt so inexperienced and yet the desire to please him grew stronger with every second they remained lip-locked. A voice in her head whispered for more, but the thought vanished as soon as she pulled away for air.

She put trembling fingers to her swollen mouth. She closed her eyes, unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s fine.” His voice sounded strained. Slowly he released her, and her body suddenly felt cold.

“See you around,” she stammered, feeling more foolish and mortified by the second. “Good night.”

It was rude not to look at him before leaving, but she had already clambered out of the car. She raced up the steps to her dorm and headed inside without turning back. She bolted straight for her room, slamming the door behind her. She leaned against it and breathed hard, like she’d just run for miles. Thankfully, Tara was still out.

Oh God. She squeezed her eyes shut. What did I just get myself into?