First day

Isabella stood at the front of the lecture hall and waited for the last students to sit. The room filled slower than she expected. A few groups still lingered near the doors, talking too loudly, until she cleared her throat once.

She picked up the stack of syllabi and started down the front row.

“This is your syllabus. Everything you need is on it. Exam dates do not move. Lab attendance is required. Miss more than two without a real reason and you fail the course.”

As she handed a packet to a girl in the second seat, a guy two rows back leaned toward his friend and said, just loud enough, “I’d show up to every lab if she wears something like that every time.”

The friend snorted. Isabella kept moving like she hadn’t heard.

She returned to the front, set the empty stack down, and rested one hand on the table. She reached for the remote, clicked the projector on, and the first slide of the course overview filled the screen behind her.

“I’m Dr. Keller. Not Isabella. Not Izzy. Office hours are listed. Use them if you need help. Do not wait until the night before a test.”

From the far left someone called out, “What if we just want to stop by?”

A ripple of laughter moved through the room. Isabella looked straight at the speaker, a broad-shouldered kid in a baseball cap.

“Then make sure you have an actual question about biology,” she said. “Anything else and you’ll be back in the hallway.”

The kid raised both hands in mock surrender. More laughter. Isabella turned to the board and started writing the first week’s readings. Behind her the comments kept coming, quieter now but still clear.

Isabella finished the reading list in clean, even letters and turned back to face the room. She let the silence stretch for a second before speaking.

“Open to the first page of the syllabus. We’re going over the grading scale and academic honesty. I suggest you actually look at it.”

Most of the class did. A few still watched her more than the paper. She walked them through the point breakdown and the lab attendance rules, occasionally glancing at the slide behind her.

“This is the weekly schedule,” she said, turning to point at the screen. Her arm extended and her body angled so the pencil skirt pulled tight across her ass. The movement was quick and unthinking.

A low voice from the middle rows carried clearly.

“Fuck.”

Someone else muttered, “Look at that.”

A third added, “No way that’s real.”

Quiet laughter rippled through the back half of the room. Isabella kept her arm up for another second before she lowered it and faced them again. Her expression stayed calm.

“Something interesting back there?”

No one answered. A few students suddenly found their syllabi very important.

She clicked to the next slide and continued.

“Academic honesty. I take it seriously. Cheating of any kind and you’re done. No discussion.”

The rest of the period stayed mostly on track, though the undercurrent of comments never fully disappeared. When the time was up she closed the slides and rested both hands on the table.

“That’s enough for today. Reading is on the board. Short quiz on Wednesday. Don’t be late.”

Chairs scraped. Students stood and gathered their things. As the first groups filed past the front table, one of them slowed just enough to speak under his breath.

“Nice view from the back, Professor.”

Isabella waited until the room emptied, erased the board, and collected the extra syllabi. The hallway outside was already loud with voices. She walked through it with even steps, climbed the stairs to the third floor, and unlocked her office.

She sat down, smoothed her skirt, and picked up her phone. A message from Daniel was already waiting.

She set the phone face down on the desk and leaned back in her chair. Outside the window the campus paths were full. Somewhere across campus Daniel was finishing his own lecture.