The entire walk to my office, my head is on a swivel looking for Laura. I know I could text her, ask her where she is right now and put myself in her path, but I rather like the idea of running into her or waiting until I get to class later. I’m not sure how the class is going to go or how I’m going to be impartial. Laura can do no wrong in my eyes, and I’m not sure how I’m going to grade her papers effectively.
With those thoughts, I think about my next move. Or hers, instead. Does Laura really need philosophy this semester, or can she take it in the winter? Am I the only one who can teach this class, or is there another professor? Something has to give, though, because I’m not sure I can go into a relationship with her if she’s my student. Although, that sounds hot. I never thought I’d be on the other end of a student/teacher relationship.
When my dreaded philosophy class arrives, I’m standing at the podium, looking at the list of students who didn’t turn their homework in. Such a shame, but the rules are in place for a reason. I glance over my shoulder, look at the clock, and watch the secondhand tick down until it has passed the twelve.
“Good afternoon. I take it everyone has the textbook I assigned.”
There are a few grumbles.
“Who would like to dissect chapter one?” Multiple hands go up, but my eyes are all on Laura. She shakes her head. It’s subtle, but I notice. The temptation to call on her is strong, knowing full well she hates to be called on in class. I point to the woman next to her, who starts to ramble away.
Each time I motion for another student to start talking, I groan. I hate philosophy and wish I never minored in it. And yet, I can’t help but love it because it has given Laura back to me. When the bell rings, my mouth drops as Laura exits the class.
“What the fuck,” I mutter as she disappears from the room. Color me confused. I guess I thought she’d want to talk to me, or maybe she’s upset that I haven’t texted her today. Did I mess up? I reach for my phone and am surprised to see Laura’s name showing on the screen with a new text message.
Laura Parrish: Meet me in the library. Third floor.
Library. Third floor.
I swallow hard as I look at her words. I remember what used to happen in the library when I was a student and let me just say, it’s not reading, and the only subject people tend to study is biology.
Fuck it.
I gather my things and head across campus after I stop and pick up two coffees, one for me and one for Laura. I can only hope she’s by herself, which is my assumption going in because why else would she text her professor and ask him to meet her in the library. She wouldn’t. Laura wouldn’t put me at risk more than I already am.
“Mr. Daniels.”
Someone yells my name, and I stop to look around. On the steps of the library, one of my students from my first-period class is coming toward me.
“I’m sure you don’t remember me yet, but I was wondering if you had office hours today?” she asks. She sways back and forth, clutching the strap of her backpack. She tilts her head to the side, allowing for her long brown hair to cascade over her shoulder and blow slightly in the wind.
“Um… I don’t recall your name, but I do remember you from class. As for my office hours,” which should be now, but I’m too occupied with thoughts of Laura, “I’ll be in my office tomorrow at this time if you’d like to schedule an appointment.”
“Oh sure, that would be great. I’ll email you,” she says as she puts her hand on my forearm.
“Okay, yes, you do that.” I don’t bother to ask her name as I head up the stairs. I should’ve told her I was late for a meeting or something, but the thought never crossed my mind. I can only hope she’s not going to follow me or think I meet all my students in the library.
I pass by the reception desk and nod toward the librarian. She’s been here for years, and when she found out I was going to teach at the school, she reminded me of all the trouble I used to get into on the third floor, where I’m heading now.
It doesn’t take me long to find Laura. I’m happy to say she does have a book open, and from what I can see, it looks like she’s studying. I set her coffee down and pull the chair out from under the table and sit next to her.