Filed to story: Shhh Professor! Please Don’t Tell! Novel Free
No way. If they asked me to play, I would refuse. Say it was my time to go to bed, or something, and leave early. But I didn’t think they would. Everyone seemed to know something was up with me. I think most of them assumed I was just sad to be leaving Egypt.
I was, but it wasn’t dampening my spirits. Egypt I could come back to.
They pounced on Jackson, though. He was popular, I thought, watching the way the students looked at him with shining eyes. He was so charming, even when he looked a little sad, like he did now. He was smiling and speaking in a cheerful tone of voice, but his sadness showed when his face was at rest. The light in his eyes was dimmed. His shoulders drooped a little. He moved heavily, as if something was weighing him down.
“What do you love more than anything else in the world?”
Henry had asked the question. He was looking at Jackson with a playful, affectionate smile on his face, as if it were a fun question, one that was easy to answer.
Jackson’s eyes darted to the ground. He stared at it for a few moments, thinking.
Was…was it me? It couldn’t be me. But why wasn’t he answering? His eyes were fixed on the ground, unmoving. He was focusing hard. He didn’t look like a man playing a game, trying to think of something truthful to say. He wasn’t trying to discover the answer. He knew the answer. He just didn’t know how to say the answer.
“I love…my heart,” Jackson said.
It was me.
I knew it somehow. I knew that was what he had meant. He had managed to answer the question without giving us away and tell me that he loved me at the same time.
Tears sprang into my eyes. I wanted to stand up and run out of the room, but that would have raised all the questions I was trying to avoid. Thankfully, no one was looking at me; they were too busy teasing Jackson and moving on to interrogate Tony.
I watched Jackson, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. His eyes flickered over to mine. We stared at each other for a moment. I could tell that he saw I was crying, and I could tell he didn’t know what it meant. My soul rushed toward him.
I looked away.
The flight home was a blur of uncomfortable snatches of sleep, a cup of lukewarm coffee, and a sleepy stroll through the airport, finished by a sharp change in temperature as we stepped outside.
My dad came to pick me up from the airport. Classes didn’t start at Flynn for another week and a half. We had another short break before school began in earnest. I hugged Dad tightly and climbed into his car. I said, “See you later” to Annie and my other friends inside the airport. As I was strapping my seatbelt, I looked through the window at the glass doors I’d just walked out of. It was twilight, and I could see inside the building a little. Jackson was standing by the doors, watching me.
I needed to go home and sleep for days.
“How was your trip, kiddo?” my dad asked, his smile huge. I knew he expected me to burst into the car and talk the whole drive about how wonderful it had been.
I would do that soon. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would feel well enough to just focus on the good things and tell my parents all about the trip. Show them all my pictures, and my videos.
Right now, I couldn’t.
“Daddy, I’m so tired,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder. “We were stupid college kids and barely got any sleep these past few days. I think I’m just going to sleep on the drive home.”
There was a gleam of sympathy in his eyes. He could tell I was upset. He probably thought, like everyone else, that I was just sad to be coming home.
“Not a problem, kiddo,” he said, kissing my head. “I’ll just put one earbud in and listen to some podcasts. You go to sleep.”
I smiled at him and let the seat down. Even though I was still partially sitting up like I had been on the plane, I fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
Just like I’d promised myself, after a long night’s sleep which lasted into the early afternoon the next day I felt well enough to tell my parents all about the trip. I did feel happy. It was lovely to share my joys with them. I knew they really loved me because of how excited they got about what had excited me.
After that, Dad went off to grade papers and Mom started preparations for baking. I wandered back to my room. I sat down on my bed and hugged my knees, staring the floor.
I knew what I needed to do.
I didn’t want to have to do it.
After holding perfectly still for almost half an hour, I stood up. I walked over to my desk and opened my laptop. I sat down and composed an email to my advisor, saying that I’d decided to drop my business minor. I wanted to add another history class for the spring and no longer take Professor Steele’ business class.
O
n the first day of the spring semester, I walked from my office to the lecture hall. I was dying to see Ellie. I had spent the last week and a half thinking about her during all my quiet moments. My house seemed to echo with emptiness in way it never had before. I missed her, and I wanted her in my life.
I set my messenger bag down on the black table placed in front of the whiteboard and looked out at a sea of faces. Some of them familiar, wearing affectionate grins or serene expressions, and some of them unfamiliar. My class size was significantly bigger than it had been in the fall. I’d been assured by my colleagues, warmly, that it was because I was a great professor. The students loved me.
I only really cared about one of them loving me.
My eyes landed on Ellie’s usual desk in the back of the room. My heart sank. She wasn’t usually late. I’d started class right on time.
She just wasn’t here. Had she dropped the class? I hadn’t looked at the list of registered students for a few weeks. I hadn’t thought to check to see if she’d dropped out or not I’d seen no reason why she should. She wasn’t that upset, was she?
I swallowed.
“Should I try to learn all your names?” I asked the room. A ripple of laughter passed through it.
“Yeah!” shouted one of the guys.
I smiled. I pulled my class roster from my bag. I’d printed it, but I hadn’t been planning on using it on my first day. I guessed that there were again some stowaways in this initial class.
“We’ll play a game,” I said, my grin charming and animated, even though I felt like my body was made of lead. I’d been looking forward to getting to see her, even if I couldn’t talk to her. What if she’d dropped her business minor and I would only get glimpses of her across campus? What if she’d decided to transfer to another college and I never got to see her again? “I’ll read a name, and you tell me if it’s yours.”
The class laughed again. I smiled, genuinely. I was fond of all my students. They helped bolster me, as if they were my friends, or even family. Their presence felt like a form of support.
I began to read aloud from the roster. I marked the students’ names I called out with a pencil so I wouldn’t repeat any and read them aloud in a random order. The class was enjoying our “game,” and laughed or responded with sassy answers when their names were called. I could see some of them taking bets on how soon their friends’ names would be called.
I was glad they were enjoying themselves, but I’d just wanted to check the list immediately for Ellie’s name. She wasn’t there.
Had she transferred to my other section? I wondered all through the lecture, although I kept my focus well enough to teach an articulate, engaging lesson.
As soon as the hour ended, and my class started to spill out of the lecture hall, I hurriedly tucked the paper roster back into my bag and slipped out of the room. Normally, I liked to be available for students’ questions after class, especially on the first day. I felt a twinge of guilt as I hurried down the hall back to my office. Too late now. Besides, I had an entire semester with them. I’d be able to answer their questions with full attention on another day.
I got back to my office, shut the door, and sat down behind my laptop. I pulled up the roster for my other section and scanned through it rapidly.
Ellie hadn’t transferred to my other section. She’d simply dropped my class.