Page 20 of The Naughty Professor
“Now,” I said, tapping the chalk against the top-left box, “imagine two generals.Each has a choice: attack or retreat.If they both attack, it’s carnage.No clear winner, but thousands of lives lost.If they both retreat, nothing is gained.But if one attacks while the other retreats…” I sketched a little explosion in the box for emphasis.“The attacker walks away the victor.”
A ripple of interest moved through the room.I always loved that shift, the subtle straightening of spines, the soft murmurs, when the class realized they weren’t just learning philosophy—they were learning how people worked.
Miles in the front row, shot up his hand.Bright kid, a little too eager to prove himself.“Isn’t that just gambling?”he asked, eyebrows knitted.“Like flipping a coin and hoping the other guy runs away?”
I grinned, resting the chalk on the tray.“Not quite.Gambling is blind.Strategy is sighted.It’s not just about what you want to do, but what you believe the other will do in response.”
Another hand popped up—Kayla, in the second row, always ready with a counterpoint.“But Professor Carr, what if both generals know the other is thinking strategically?Doesn’t that just make it… endless second-guessing?”
“Excellent,” I said, pointing at her with a flourish.“That’s exactly the problem.Infinite regress.You’re not just guessing—you’re guessing what the other person thinks you will do, and what you think they will do in response to what you think they think…” I let my voice trail off, and the class chuckled.“It’s maddening.And yet, these calculations run the world—from poker tables to nuclear standoffs.”
Miles leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.“So what’s the solution?Attack?Retreat?How do you win?”
“Sometimes the only way to win,” I said, “is to change the game.Reframe the incentives so that the smartest move is also the safest.That’s what treaties, contracts, and friendships are for.”
I let the word friendships hang in the air, and a few students tilted their heads as though the idea had never occurred to them—that the bonds they built could be strategies in themselves.I loved that moment.Teaching wasn’t about cramming facts into heads; it was about nudging a thought sideways and letting it bloom into something new.
The clock above the door clicked toward the hour.I glanced at it reluctantly.“All right, that’s all for today.Read the next chapter of The Evolution of Cooperation before Wednesday.There will be a quiz, and yes, Miles, you can debate me about it afterward.”
A groan of laughter rippled through the room.Students began stuffing laptops and notebooks into backpacks, the shuffle of bodies and squeak of chairs echoing in the hall.A few lingered, still talking about game theory, arguing whether you could ever truly predict human behavior.
I loved them for it.For all their distractions and TikTok obsessions, they were sharp when you gave them a reason to be.
As the last of the students filtered out, the silence pressed in, and with it, the dull throb at the back of my skull.I rubbed my temples and groaned.
Badlands.I should’ve left hours earlier last night.But Sean had begged, pouted, and needled me until I’d agreed to stay.He always did.And then, true to form, he’d vanished with a stranger just before midnight.
I envied him sometimes.The ease with which he slipped into someone else’s arms, laughter spilling into the night like it cost him nothing.No hesitation.No consequences.Just pleasure.
But I wasn’t like that.Never had been.I couldn’t take a man to bed unless there was something more.A spark at the very least.A sense that I wasn’t just a warm body filling space.Without it, sex was hollow—a distraction that left me emptier than before.
I sank into the chair behind the desk, fingertips drumming on the wood.And inevitably, my mind drifted to the man I’d seen there last night, standing awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor.
Dr.Felix Sterling.
I hadn’t expected him.On campus, he was quiet, almost invisible—muttering at faculty meetings, hair perpetually mussed, his glasses far too big for his face.And yet, watching him at Badlands, there’d been something beneath the nervous shifting and wrinkled shirt.Sharpness.Curiosity.Hunger?
Felix was smart—I knew that much.I’d caught him once explaining quantum entanglement to a freshman with an enthusiasm that lit up the hallway.And intelligence… God, intelligence was the sharpest lure.If a man couldn’t hold a conversation, I lost interest faster than you could blink.
But Felix?Underneath the tragic glasses and unfortunate wardrobe, I thought he was attractive.More than attractive.There was something real about him—unguarded, awkward, but sincere.
I drummed harder against the desk, considering.Maybe I should ask him to coffee.Just a cup at the little café on Grace Street where I liked to grade papers.Neutral territory.A chance to see if the spark I thought I’d glimpsed could be coaxed into something more.
The idea sent a faint warmth through me.God knew I needed someone.Not a fling, not a body to pass the time.Someone who could listen, who could make me laugh, who might ease the hollow that Alastair’s death had left in me.He’d been my closest friend on campus, the only one I could talk to without pretending.And now, without him, the halls felt emptier than ever.
A friend.That was all I wanted.At least to start with.
I glanced at my watch.An hour and a half before my next meeting.Plenty of time.
I stood, slid the chalk into the tray, and brushed the dust from my palms.My footsteps echoed up the stairs to the back of the lecture hall, toward the narrow door that led to my office.Inside, I dropped my bag on the desk, rubbed at my temple once more, and stared at the clock.
Should I?Would it be wise to blur the lines between colleagues?The university wasn’t exactly a hotbed of out gay professors.It might be… risky.
But then I thought of Felix at Badlands, his eyes darting around the room like he wanted to belong but didn’t know how.
No, it wasn’t risky.It was an opportunity.
I grabbed my jacket from the chair, shrugged it on, and stepped back into the hall.My shoes clicked against the tile as I made my way toward the chemistry wing, my pulse steady but quickening.
