THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER

Chapter 3: A Rare Feeling

Professor Jenny and I made our way back to the lecture hall, and I could feel every single pair of eyes on us. The whispers started immediately—hushed murmurs, stolen glances, judgmental smirks. Some students nudged each other, others discreetly pulled out their phones, probably to record whatever was happening.

I didn’t care.

I kept my head straight, matching Ms. Jenny’s pace as she walked beside me, completely unfazed by the attention. If anything, she exuded an air of quiet authority, her presence commanding the room before she even said a word.

We entered the lecture hall, and the moment we did, the whispers intensified. I ignored them. My focus shifted to my book, still lying on the floor where Dylan had crushed it.

I walked over and bent down, picking it up. The cover was bent, the pages slightly torn, but I didn’t care. I ran a hand over the creases before tucking it under my arm and making my way to my seat at the far end of the hall.

Ms. Jenny, on the other hand, strode to the front of the room and effortlessly took command. She placed her tablet on the podium, glanced at the students who were still murmuring, and with a single look, the entire hall fell silent.

I watched as she tapped the screen of her tablet, pulling up the course material on the large projector. Then she turned to face the class, her voice clear and authoritative.

"Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me yet, my name is Professor Jenny Sullivan. I will be taking over this course starting today."

Some students exchanged glances. Others still looked amused, likely wondering how someone so young could be a professor.

Ms. Jenny didn’t seem to care. She continued, her voice smooth and confident. “I expect full participation in my class. If you’re here to waste time, you might as well leave now.”

Silence.

I leaned back in my chair, opening my battered book, but my mind wasn’t on the pages.

For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t on my struggles, my exhaustion, or even the beating I had taken a few minutes ago.

All I cared about in that moment was two things.

The lecture.

And Ms. Jenny.

Ms. Jenny didn’t waste time. She launched straight into the lecture, her voice steady and engaging, drawing everyone’s attention.

I tried to focus, I really did—but something about her presence was distracting. Maybe it was the way she moved with such effortless confidence, or the way her lips curved slightly whenever she explained something complex, as if she enjoyed the challenge.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that, for the first time since I set foot in this university, someone actually acknowledged me.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to focus on the material. I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let my mind drift now.

Numbers, formulas, theories— I absorbed them like my life depended on it. Because, in many ways, it did.

The murmurs around me had died down, but I could still feel Dylan’s gaze boring into me from across the hall. I didn’t look up, but I knew he was watching. I knew Stella was too, probably wondering why the hell Ms. Jenny had stepped in to defend me.

Let them wonder.

The two-hour lecture finally came to an end, and the moment Ms. Jenny dismissed the class, everyone began filing out of the lecture hall, their whispers filling the air like an unsettling buzz. Some students stretched, others gathered in small groups, chatting about the lecture, but I could feel countless pairs of eyes on me.

Ms. Jenny closed her notebook and gathered her materials, preparing to leave. Without hesitation, I slung my bag across my shoulders and made my way toward her desk.

"Let me help you with that," I said, reaching for the stack of books and papers she was holding.

She looked up at me, surprised for a brief moment before a soft smile curved her lips. "Oh, thank you, David. That’s very kind of you."

As we walked out together, the murmur in the room intensified. I could feel the weight of every gaze following us. Some people nudged their friends, whispering with smirks. Others gawked in disbelief.

And then there was Stella.

Standing beside Dylan, her arms folded across her chest, she was glaring daggers at me. Dylan stood beside her, his expression unreadable, but there was something dangerous lurking behind his smirk.

I didn't react. I didn’t flinch, I didn’t slow down. I simply kept walking beside Ms. Jenny, acting as if I couldn’t feel their burning stares drilling into my back.

We reached her office, and she swiped her key card against the reader. A small beep sounded, and the lock clicked open.

"Come in," she said warmly, pushing the door open.

I followed her inside, and she shut the door behind us.

Her office was elegant yet minimalistic, with a large desk, a sleek bookshelf lined with academic texts, and a window overlooking the campus. There was a faint scent of coffee lingering in the air, mixing with something floral—her perfume.

I helped her set her things down, arranging them neatly on the desk.

She gave me an appreciative smile. "You’re very well-mannered, David. I like that."

"Just trying to be helpful," I muttered, checking the time. 4:00 PM.

I sighed. "I have to be somewhere by five, so I guess I have an hour free."

"Perfect," she said, clapping her hands together.

I frowned. "Perfect for what?"

Her smile widened. "For lunch. I want to take you out."

My entire body froze.

I must have misheard her. There’s no way she just said that.

I blinked, my brows furrowing. "Wait… what?"

She chuckled. "I said, let’s have lunch together. Just a quick meal before your shift."

Was she serious? A professor, a woman as elegant, intelligent, and breathtakingly beautiful as her, wanted to have lunch with me?

I swallowed, suddenly feeling awkward. "That’s really nice of you, Ms. Jenny, but I—"

"You can call me Jenny," she interrupted, her voice gentle.

I cleared my throat. "Jenny… I, uh, I don’t think I can."

"Why not?" She tilted her head, genuinely curious.

I couldn’t tell her the truth. That I was too poor to sit at a fancy restaurant with someone like her. That I didn’t belong anywhere near her world.

"I just… I have a lot on my plate," I said vaguely, hoping that would be enough.

To my absolute shock, she pouted. Actually pouted.

"Come on, David," she said, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated pleading gesture. "I’m new here, and I haven’t had the chance to properly get to know anyone yet. Think of it as a favor."

I hesitated.

For a moment, I was just staring at her. At the way her long, dark lashes framed her striking eyes. At the way her full lips curved ever so slightly, forming the cutest pout.

She was beautiful. Stunning, even.

And she was looking at me like she actually wanted me to say yes.

I sighed. This was dangerous.

But somehow, against my better judgment, I found myself nodding. "Alright… just for an hour."

She grinned, her eyes lighting up. "Great! Let’s go."

I swallowed. What the hell was I getting myself into?

As we stepped out of her office, I could still feel the lingering weight of eyes watching us. The hallway wasn’t as crowded as before, but a few stragglers stood near the door, their whispers loud enough to reach my ears.

"Is that David?"

"Why is he with Professor Sullivan?"

"Dude, I swear something’s up with them."

I ignored it. I was used to being talked about, but this… this was different.

Jenny, however, seemed completely unfazed. She walked with an effortless confidence, her heels clicking against the floor with each graceful step. Her hair bounced slightly as she walked, shimmering under the hallway lights.

I stole a glance at her. She looked too perfect, too untouchable—like she belonged to a world I had no right stepping into.

And yet, here we were.

As we reached the parking lot, she pulled out her car keys and pressed a button. A sleek, jet-black Aston Martin beeped in response.

I nearly choked.

"This… this is your car?" I asked, staring at the luxury vehicle like it had just dropped out of the sky.

She laughed, opening the door. "You sound surprised."

"Surprised is an understatement," I muttered.

She slid into the driver’s seat effortlessly, and I hesitated before getting in. The interior was pure luxury—leather seats, a digital dashboard, a scent that wasn’t just 'new car' but probably some insanely expensive fragrance.

I shifted uncomfortably. I didn’t belong in this car.

Jenny noticed. "Relax, David. It’s just a car."

Just a car? A car worth more than my entire existence?

She started the engine, and the smooth purr of the motor sent another wave of disbelief through me. How the hell was I sitting here?

"So," she said, effortlessly maneuvering out of the parking lot, "what kind of food do you like?"

I blinked. "Uh… anything, really."

She smirked. "Anything? That’s a dangerous answer. What if I take you somewhere crazy?"

I chuckled. "As long as it’s not somewhere I have to sell my kidney to afford, I’m good."

She laughed, the sound light and melodic. "Relax, it’s on me."

Of course it was.

The ride was smooth, and as the city lights blurred past us, I found myself… relaxing. Just a little. Jenny was easy to talk to, even if I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was way out of my depth.

We pulled up to an upscale restaurant with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a valet service.

I stiffened immediately. "Jenny, this place looks… expensive."

She parked the car and turned to me, her expression soft. "Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the food."

I hesitated. I had never stepped foot in a place like this. My usual meals were fast food and whatever I could afford on my tiny paycheck.

But before I could protest, she was already out of the car.

I sighed and followed.

The moment we walked in, heads turned.

It was subtle, but I could feel it. The way people glanced at Jenny, their eyes widening slightly as they recognized her. She was the kind of woman that demanded attention effortlessly.

And me? I was just… the guy walking beside her, looking out of place.

We were led to a table by a waiter who seemed almost too eager to serve Jenny.

"Professor Sullivan," he greeted with a bright smile. "A pleasure to have you here again."

"Thank you, Oliver," she said kindly.

I tried to ignore the way Oliver glanced at me, his expression shifting into one of mild curiosity.

Jenny sat down, and I awkwardly did the same.

"Do you come here often?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the feeling of not belonging.

"A few times," she admitted, scanning the menu. "It’s a nice place to unwind."

Unwind? I was struggling to breathe in here.

A few minutes later, our food arrived, and I had to admit—it smelled incredible. I took a hesitant bite, and the flavors exploded in my mouth.

Jenny chuckled. "Good, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Definitely better than instant noodles."

She laughed. "Instant noodles? Is that what you survive on?"

"Pretty much."

She frowned slightly. "That’s not healthy, you know."

I smirked. "I’ll keep that in mind if you plan on feeding me regularly."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Jenny raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh? Are you saying you want me to?"

I nearly choked on my drink. "That’s not what I—"

She laughed, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction.

For the first time today, I actually felt… light.

Like maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.