Punished

My heart pounded in my chest as I awaited the Professor's reaction to my silly outburst.

The class was still very quiet, very quiet for my liking. It made me almost berate myself for being so stupid, for being so sensitive.

I could deduct from the silence that the old, worn out looking professor was a menace to his students. Yet I refused to cower under his heated gaze, not even with the amount of eyes zeroed on every inch of me.

When the professor started walking toward me, when his feet sounded so sure and tacky on the floor as they moved in my direction, I clenched my fists tightly then splayed them on my laps. Then clutched them again; this time around, they were clutching my trousers with them.

I felt a shin of sweat on my eyebrows despite the good ventilation in the class and knew that my nerves were breaking out to my exterior.

"You know, I was at the party…"