Filed to story: Shhh Professor! Please Don’t Tell! Novel Free
“If you want to,” I said, my body suddenly on fire.
“I do,” she said. She said it firmly and decisively, as if it was a decision she had made a long time ago and ceased to wonder about.
“Don’t you have to study?” I asked.
She laughed, threw her head back, and let out the most endearing peal of giggles.
“Not today,” she said, “I’m a little ahead. I can get everything done tomorrow.”
“Wow,” I said, beaming at her. “What a woman.”
We just stood there. I felt a little afraid to move, as if I might suddenly wake from a dream. This felt absolutely too good to be true.
“Should…” I hesitated. “Do you have a car? Should I drive you?”
“I don’t have a car,” she said. “I have to be back here by 8:00 am tomorrow though.”
“Not a problem,” I said, smiling. I loved that she was anticipating spending the whole night with me. “I can drop you off in the morning and then work in my office here until it’s time for me to teach.”
“Okay,” she said, a little breathlessly, beaming at me.
“Should I meet you in the parking lot after your last class?” I asked. I was done teaching for the day. I just had some quizzes to grade.
Ellie shook her head. “I still want to protect you as best I can. I’ll go for a walk in the woods, and you can pick me up along the road. My class ends at 2:00. Should we meet at 3:00?”
“Yes,” I said. I wished she didn’t feel she needed to sneak around for me, but I wasn’t going to protest. She knew her own mind, and her reputation was still at stake as well.
“At 3:00 then,” she said, and stood on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. Her lips felt warm and soft on my face. “I’ll walk back by myself. Message me on Instagram so we can delete your messages later.” She squeezed my arm and started to walk back to the history building.
We’d still be taking a risk we were visible from various windows if anyone had been looking out but Ellie was right that returning by herself lessened the risk of everyone knowing that we were formally together.
Formally together! My heart rose up, feeling like it might burst from joy. I began to think about what I would cook us for dinner. I walked back to my office and forced myself to grade quizzes. I can focus even when it’s difficult one doesn’t become a billionaire without a great deal of dedication and hard work.
I finished the last quiz at 2:45. I didn’t follow Ellie on Instagram. I didn’t even have a personal Instagram. I spent a few minutes downloading the app and setting one up. I decided to just make myself a fake profile; then she wouldn’t have to worry about her phone screen revealing that I’d messaged her if she was with other people.
I created a false identity named Janus Hurghada. Janus was the Roman god that the month of January is named after, and Hurghada, well? Ellie would understand that. I made the profile picture the Sphinx.
I searched for her name and found her after clicking on a few incorrect profiles. I smiled down at the pictures she’d posted. Pictures of Egypt. Pictures of her and her friends wearing the costumes they’d worn to my Halloween party. It felt good to see things that I’d been a part of on her social media. It made me feel as though I was already part of her personal life.
“Someday, Ellie,” I murmured, “there will be a picture of the two of us on here. Someday it’ll be our wedding.”
I began a message to her and typed a brief note.
Corner of Hawthorn and Rosewood?
I glanced up at the clock.
I’ll get there right at 3:00
if I hurried. I stood up and put my coat on, quickly slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder. I turned out the lights in my office and stepped through the door, whistling as I turned the key in the lock.
“Professor Steele!”
I turned. Professor Spaulding was walking down the hallway towards me, a rehearsed smile on his face.
My core tightened. I was angry with him. That would fade in a few days as rational forgiveness overcame my natural emotions, but right now the visceral reaction to what he’d done was too fresh. And I was worried. I had never seen him in the business school before. Was he here to talk to me? Had he seen Ellie and I together earlier?
“John,” I said, smiling at him. I was determined to be polite. In this situation, he held the power. “What brings you over here?”
“I wanted to talk to the President,” he said, his smile unmoving. “His office is near here, and I decided to walk through this building to avoid the cold.”
Was this a riddle? A hint that he was going to tell the President about Ellie and I, but I could prevent it avoid the cold by promising that it would never happen again?
Sorry to disappoint you, Professor Spaulding, but it’s going to happen again in a few hours.
“I see,” I said, smiling back. I wondered if my eye contact was as sharp as my anger.
If he wanted to tell me that I must not sleep with students, he should go ahead and do that. In principle, I agreed with him completely. What I had with Ellie was an exception to the rule, and I felt sure that I could convince him of that if he would simply have a conversation with me about it. It galled me that he wasn’t just coming right out and speaking bluntly, man to man. It galled me that he’d gone behind my back, causing Ellie and I weeks of pain.
“What do you need to discuss with President Loosen?” I asked. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to open the doorway of honesty. Let him come right out and say if that was really what he was planning on talking with the President about.
“Just a matter of history,” he said. “The history of the college.”
My stomach twisted. Again, that could have been a hint. A subtle manipulation.
“What history, John?” I said, a hint of terseness creeping into my voice.
“Like I said, the history of the college,” Professor Spaulding said again. “It’s too intricate and too delicate to go into here.”
I stood there, staring at him. He locked eyes with me. That was what he’d meant. I could see it in his eyes. He was telling me not to get involved with Ellie.
“But I think,” Professor Spaulding said, “that today isn’t the right day to talk with him. I’ll wait a while. Do a little more research. I want to give an accurate report.”
“Accuracy is important,” I said, “and so is honesty.”
I held his gaze. He looked away.
“Have a good night, Jackson,” he said. He walked down the hallway in the direction he’d come from.
I watched him go. His words rang in my ears. My happiness rose like a dawn over my anxiety, eliminating my fear.