"I forgot to hand out the syllabus on Wednesday,” I said and pulled the top packet off and dropped the rest on a boy's desk in the front. "Take one and pass it."
The boy grabbed one and handed the stack to his neighbor. As the papers began to cycle, I sat on top of my desk. "So your first presentation isn't for a few weeks, but you'll probably want to at least pick a topic soon so you can start mulling it over. All you need to do is pick a person that has inspired you in some way and tell us all about it. But please, I'm tired of hearing about everyone's grandparents, so try to think outside the box. And next week I'll start talking about how to give effective speeches, so you'll definitely want to incorporate that advice. Any questions?"
A girl in the front row's hand shot up.
"Yes?"
"Do we need your approval for our topic?"
"Not for this one. For later projects though, yes. But if you do have any questions you can always email me. My email is on the syllabus. And my office hours are listed on there too, if any of you have any questions or need some guidance on an assignment." I stared at Penny. She was the only one I wanted to take me up on that offer. The things I could do to her on my desk… Stop.
The two girls in front of Penny looked way too excited about my private office hours. I ignored them and watched as the pile of syllabi ran out right before reaching Penny.
She looked up at me, staring at the syllabus I was holding in my hand.
I smiled. What she didn’t realize was that this one was special for her. This morning I’d told myself that I’d be better. No fraternizing. No socializing whatsoever with students. But I’d altered this syllabus last night. And technically it was the only other one I had. "Any other questions?" I asked and waited for her to raise her hand and ask for the syllabus I was holding. But…she didn’t. She just stared at me. Maybe she wanted to approach me after class instead. Alone time that I was craving too. Or maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of raising her hand and asking for it right now. I could tell she was shy. Bold and shy? I was starting to wonder if it was a lethal combination. Regardless, it meant we’d have one more moment today. And I wasn’t upset about that at all.
"Okay then,” I said. “Make sure to brainstorm this weekend. If you have an idea in mind on Monday, then my advice will be more beneficial. Have a great weekend."
I heard the pull of zippers on backpacks and feet shuffling. I waited for the class to empty out. And while waiting, Tyler started talking to Penny as she packed up her backpack. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I hoped it was an apology for whatever shit he’d put her through last night.
She didn’t look happy about the conversation, so I was surprised when she handed him her phone. It was like I was watching a horror movie playing out in slow motion and I didn’t want to see the rest. I looked down at the syllabus and flipped to the page where my office hours and email were. I’d made my note to her hard to miss.
Miss Taylor,
I hate to think that you make walking around in the middle of the night a habit. But if you find yourself alone in the rain again, please do not hesitate to call me if you feel you are in need of an escort.
- J. H.
152-726-0133
An escort? What had I been thinking? That made my innocent gesture sound not so innocent. Maybe this was a mistake. I could just tell her that I’d bring her another syllabus on Monday. Or to just get a copy from her new friend, Tyler Stevens. I should be pushing her toward other people, not drawing her closer to myself. That was the right thing to do. But Tyler? He’d done something to make her cry. He was the reason she was walking around in the rain late at night in a white tank top. I trusted him less than I trusted myself.
“Excuse me, Professor Hunter?" Penny said nervously.
I looked up from the pages. I hadn’t realized we were alone in the room. "How can I help you, Miss Taylor?"
"I didn't get a syllabus."
I knew what I was about to do was wrong. I’d written the note in a moment of weakness. But it could be a good thing. If she was ever in trouble, she’d call me. I’d help get her home safely. End of story. I was just trying to help. And even though I was hoping it would be more than that, I handed the syllabus to her anyway. "Well here you go then.”
She gave me a small smile. "Thank you."
"So a walk in the rain with a stranger was a highlight to your eventful evening, was it?"
"It was the only good thing about last night, actually."
Mine too. "I had my suspicions after you referred to this class as a date."
She placed her hand over her eyes, and then slowly let it slide down her face. "I thought I had dreamt that." She looked completely mortified. And beautiful. God she was so fucking beautiful.
"I didn't realize I had made an appearance in your dreams, Miss Taylor." Wrong. It was the wrong thing to say. And yet…it didn’t feel wrong.
"That's not what I...I mean you didn't. Well I meant..."
I laughed, knowing we had to end our conversation. Students for the next class would be walking in soon. And I had another class to get to. "Have a good weekend, Miss Taylor. Maybe on Monday I'll ask everyone to share a memorable dream they had over the weekend."
Her jaw actually dropped. The door creaked open and students for the next class started walking in. "Professor Hunter," she said as she quickly turned and walked toward the door.
My eyes wandered to her ass. She was wearing jean shorts that were short enough to kill me. If she bent over I was pretty sure I’d see parts of her I’d only imagined in my dreams the last few nights. I closed my eyes. I was losing control. And if there was one thing I knew about myself, I had a hard time getting that control back once I forfeited it.
Chapter 6
Sunday
I glanced at my phone again. I’d thought that maybe Friday night I would get a call from Penny. I pictured her in the rain again, waiting for me to walk her home. But the call hadn’t come. So I’d pictured it again on Saturday night. It was all I could think about. But…again she didn’t call. Now it was Sunday and my phone had no unread messages or missed calls.
Maybe she hadn’t read the syllabus yet. That was the best-case scenario. Had I ever bothered to read my syllabi when I was in college? I couldn’t remember, so probably not.
The worst-case scenario? She’d seen the note and reported me to the dean for being inappropriate. Either way, I would eventually get a call. Maybe she should report me. The things I had thought about doing to her…
“James, are you expecting a call?”
My eyes gravitated back to Dr. Clark. He was giving me a hard stare, and I realized he had probably been trying to get my attention for some time. I cleared my throat. “Hm?”
“You keep looking at your phone.”
I slid my cell phone back into my pocket. “It’s nothing. Just a work thing.” A lie. A bad one at that. But what was I supposed to say? That I had been waiting all weekend for a student to text or call me? That it was the only thing I was looking forward to anymore? That it was the only thing I could think of? None of those answers were appropriate. I knew I should be talking about this. That was why I was here. To talk about my feelings and whatever. But I had no desire to be judged right now. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I didn’t need him to tell me that.