by Bee Daniels
“Are you Professor Bryant?” he asked, hesitantly.
Or not.
“Yes, I am,” Melanie said as she stood from her seat, walking around her desk, curiously staring at the man in front of her. “How may I help you?”
“When Walker told me about you, I was expecting someone…” —his eyes trailed her up and down— “…different.”
“Walker?” Melanie repeated with a frown. The only Walker she knew was… “Noah Walker?”
“I’m Coach Benson, and Noah is one of the players on my team,” he said as he removed his hat, before offering his hand to her. Melanie felt herself tense in his presence as she hesitantly offered her own hand. She had a feeling the reason she was getting a visit from the coach of the hockey team wasn’t for a nice chat about Noah’s failing grades. She heard the rumors about how passionate Coach Benson could be when it came down to his players. She didn't want her afternoon to be ruined by some overzealous man that did not realize that his players wouldn't be able to skate by in life on their athletic abilities alone.
When her hand touched his, she could feel the rough callous graze her own soft skin. He seemed to notice the same as his grip became tighter, glancing at her manicured nails within his hand. And when their eyes met, Melanie could see appreciation in them.
Melanie pulled her hand back. She had never been good around men before. It made her nervous.
“I’m assuming you came here to speak to me about Noah’s grades,” Melanie said as she walked back behind her desk and gestured for him to take the seat across from her. “Please, have a seat, Coach Benson.”
“Todd,” he said, sitting down. “My players have no choice but to call me Coach Benson. But you can call me Todd, and your name is…”
“Melanie,” she answered. A smile broke out on his face causing her eyebrows to knit together with confusion. She didn't understand why he was smiling about her name. Personally, she would have preferred if he kept calling her Professor Bryant, drawing a boundary that needed to remain there. Soon, she had a feeling when she told Coach Benson there was nothing she could do about Noah's grades that he would no longer be smiling or wanting her to call him Todd.
“Melanie,” he said, still smiling before he cleared his throat, sitting up properly in his seat. “You’re right. I’m here to talk to you about Noah’s grades and what we’ll be able to do to get them up.”
He sounded like a parent from one of the private high schools she previously taught at. But in this case, Coach Benson wasn't a parent, and Noah wasn't a child. He didn't need to be coddled by anyone, least of all her or his coach.
“I’m not sure what we'll be able to talk about Coach Benson—”
“Todd, remember. Unless you decide to join my hockey team. Do you like hockey, by the way?”
“Actually, no... Todd. I’m not the biggest fan.”
He looked personally offended, and Melanie had to compose herself to stop herself from laughing. For some reason, everyone in this state took sports way too seriously for her taste. She loved basketball herself, but if someone told her they didn't like it, she wouldn't feel like the world had ended. But that's exactly what Coach Benson looked like right now.
To placate him, Melanie added, “I don’t like hockey, but I have a friend who loves it. She tries to go to every game when she has a chance, and she constantly raves about it.”
Coach Benson looked relieved as if the world were right now. Melanie barely concealed her snort. Sports fans were ridiculous.
“Everyone in Weston loves hockey, Melanie. It's in the water and the air. That's why so many young men here grow up to be amazing hockey players, and Noah Walker is one of them. Everyone here knows he'll go pro, but that boy still needs to prove himself before he does. He has to be on the ice to do that. He can't prove it from the bench."
Melanie leaned back, swallowing her bite. As much as she wanted to end the conversation right here with a simple yet firm no, there was a glint in Coach Benson's eyes that told her he was a believer in Noah, and that every word he spoke, he meant.
Melanie didn't doubt his words, but the problem was that she didn't care. What Noah did out on the ice had nothing to do with her classroom. He wasn’t the only athlete she taught, and though she knew her classwork wasn't the easiest, she had other athletes who were passing her course. Because unlike Walker, they wanted so badly to play that they did whatever it took to keep them out on the ice or the field or wherever they were playing at. They might not be passing with flying colors, but they were getting by on their C's. If they could do it, then Walker could do it but wasn't trying hard enough.
Melanie could tell that Coach Benson was a nice man. But a nice speech that sounded like it came right out of Remember the Titans, a movie which she loved, by the way, wasn't going to change the facts.
“Look, Noah is failing my class. I’m not failing him. If he applied himself the way he applies himself on the ice, he would be passing my course with flying colors, but he isn’t. This is college, not high school. I’m not going to run after Noah to make him see the importance of this course when I have other students who do.”
“Noah is a hard worker, Melanie. He probably just isn’t getting the material.”
“And this is why I have office hours and why I allow my students to ask questions during class, but in the past month since the semester has started, Noah has done none of these things. If he doesn’t get the material, instead of skipping, talking, and disrupting my class, he could try to learn the material, but he doesn’t. That shows me he doesn’t care.” Melanie sighed, feeling tired just speaking about Noah. He was one of the most obnoxious, disrespectful students she had ever had. “Let me ask you a question, Todd.”
He nodded, jaw tight. Melanie could see that he was wrestling with his need to defend Noah from the way his jaw clenched. Melanie was surprised this conversation hadn't turned into a screaming match yet. She had heard the stories about Coach Benson fighting on behalf of his students. She wasn’t sure what she was doing to make him so calm, but she hoped that their conversation could continue that way. She would hate for this to turn nasty.
“If you had a player on your team who skipped practice and ignored your plays on the ice, what would you do?”
He swallowed thickly, readjusting himself in his seat. “I would kick them off my team.”
“Exactly," Melanie said. "I have nothing against Noah. He seems like a good enough kid, but he doesn’t take my class seriously, and if he doesn’t find a way to pass this next exam coming up, he will fail my class. After that, there is nothing he can do because he’s already done poorly on the rest of my course work.”
Coach Benson shot up from his seat, startling Melanie and rattling the items on her desk. He paced back and forth, his big booted feet slamming against the carpeted floor with each step he took. Suddenly, he stopped, turned towards her before slamming his hands against her desk as he stared her in the eye.
Melanie gulped. So, this was the passionate Coach Benson she heard all the stories about.
“I understand everything you’re saying, Melanie. And I apologize if it seems like Noah isn’t respecting your class. But he isn’t like that. He isn’t one of those students. He just doesn’t get the material right now. But if you were to help him, then he would be able to do it. I promise you that.”
“Help him how?” Melanie asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of her tone. She wouldn't give him extra-credit because it would be unfair to other students, and she wouldn't go out of her way for Noah Walker. Intro to Psychology wasn’t the only course she taught. She had three other courses and many other students to focus on.
“Maybe you can give him private tutoring?”
Melanie swallowed her annoyance, trying to keep her face neutral. “Coach Benson, I know it might not seem like it right now, but I’m a very busy woman. I have three more classes outside of the class I have with Noah. On top of that, I work outside of Westo
n as a psychologist, and I’m currently working on my third book. My time is limited, and I can’t spend it on a student who doesn’t care—”
“I understand you’re a busy woman, Melanie. I can see that,” he said, gesturing to all of the plaques of recognition in her office. “I can tell you’re a hard worker, and I respect that. But I think what you don’t see right now is that Noah is a hard worker like you, and if you give him the chance and the help, he’ll be able to pass your course with flying colors.”
“Todd—”
“He needs this, Melanie. He really needs this. I’ve seen his work. I’ve been watching him since he was ten years old. He is great. There is ice running through his veins, and I know he’s going to be big. I know it. I want the world to see him for him. Not for his parents. Please, help Noah. Please, Melanie.”
The puppy dog look on his face made her sigh and want to default to whining. She truly did not want to tutor. It wasn’t just because she didn’t have the time; it was also because she didn’t want to give any of her personal time to Noah Walker. She hated slackers. She hated people who didn’t take their work seriously. She hated students who wasted her time, not doing her work, and during the last week, coming to her with fake sob stories of how they were going through problems when in actuality they were too busy partying and thought sob stories would work on her. But they wouldn’t. And in this case, they shouldn’t.
But with the way Coach Benson looked at her now with a pleading look on his face, Melanie couldn't help but think he let his pride walk out the door for Noah's sake. A part of her would feel bad if she made him walk out the door like a kicked puppy with its tail hidden. Or, maybe it was his eyes. Coach Benson was a handsome man.
Finally, she acquiesced. "Okay."
A smile immediately broke out on Coach Benson's face as he thrust his fist in the air in victory. At that moment, Melanie couldn't help but feel like she had been bamboozled. She had to get something out of this. “But—”
“What is it? Anything for you, Melanie. You’re an incredible woman for helping my boy. Do you want to go out to dinner?”
Melanie blinked. Dinner? Why would he ask her that? That had been the last thing on her mind.
“No, thank you,” Melanie said, ignoring the slightly disappointed look on his face. “But I’ll help out Noah with private tutoring for tickets to the game.”
Now it was time for Coach Benson to look at her confused. “I thought you didn’t like—”
“But my close friend loves it. She’ll be happy.”
Coach Benson nodded. “I’ll get you both free tickets for the whole year.”
“Oh, wait,” Melanie said as she stood, shaking her head. “That isn’t necessary.”
“Of course, it is. Thank you again for being willing to help him.”
“I make no promises that he’s going to pass,” Melanie said, quickly. “All of that depends on how hard Noah works.”
“Trust me,” Coach Benson said, winking. “He’ll pass.”
He turned to leave until he stopped in his tracks. He looked back at her with a charming smile that probably made all the ladies fall for him.
“At first, I asked you out to dinner to thank you. But maybe someday we can go to dinner to get to know each other?”
"Uh..." Melanie started nervously, at a loss for words. Even though she was closing on her thirties rapidly, she had yet to get used to talking to men who were interested in her. It always made her extremely nervous, and she could never find the right words to say.
Besides, should she go to dinner with Coach Benson? She started to go down her list of requirements she needed in a man she dated. He was older, so that meant he had to hold some semblance of maturity. Check. He worked as a head coach for a hockey team, so he definitely made enough money to be the primary breadwinner. Check. He was handsome, so their children would be fine in the looks department. Check. He looked healthy and in shape, but she would need to know the history of diseases in his family. For now, she would have to leave that unchecked. She would have to check if Coach Benson had been previously married or had kids because that was a big fat no in her department. She wanted to marry someone without any baggage. Right now, she couldn't tell if they would necessarily be compatible. She would have to do more research to know that.
As of right now, Coach Benson checked off most of her requirements, but there was a big glaring problem she couldn't ignore. He worked at the same place she did. Many problems came with dating someone you worked with, even if you both didn't work in the same department. What would happen if he wanted more favors of her in the future, and it was expected of her because they were in a relationship? What would happen when their coworkers gossiped about them? Was that something she wanted?
Melanie shook away her thoughts. This was why relationships never worked out for her. There were way too many variables outside of her control to know whether things would work out, and she didn't like to waste her time. There was no point in dating Coach Benson if it wouldn't go anywhere. It was best to get off the ride before it even started.
“That sounds nice, Todd. But I’ll have to take a rain check. I’ll be too busy tutoring Noah.”
"Okay, but, hopefully, next time you won't be too busy," he said, tossing her a wink before he left her office.
Melanie sat back down, realizing she was now stuck with tutoring Noah Walker, one of her most annoying students.
CHAPTER
5
NOAH
R
USTLING PAPERS AND BAGS ZIPPING ALERTED NOAH TO CLASS ENDING SOON. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and if the time was correct, class would end in one minute. He dragged his gaze from the clock down to Professor Bryant, who also looked at the clock as she simultaneously lectured before stopping.
“Now is a good place to stop. Remember to read Chapter Eight before coming to class on Thursday. As you know by now, I will be giving a quiz.”
Half-hearted replies of acknowledgment were rattled off as everyone began to file out of the classroom, probably in a rush to another class to make sure they weren't late. Noah stood slowly and bounced down the steps at his leisure, watching Professor Bryant as she closed out her PowerPoint on the projector so it would be clear for the next professor who came in after them.
Yesterday after practice, Coach Benson told him Professor Bryant was willing to personally tutor him, which surprised Noah. Noah knew Coach Benson was a determined person, and once he set his mind to something, he was like a dog with a bone, but with a person like Professor Bryant, Noah was positive that Coach Benson's threatening persistence wouldn't work on her. Majority of the time, Professor Bryant looked at him as if he were a fly she wanted to swat. The fact that she agreed to tutor him still perplexed him. And when Noah found himself standing in front of her, he peered into her eyes, trying to figure out what made Professor Bryant help him.
Professor Bryant looked at him, again, with that same look she usually looked at him with. She grabbed her bag, and without a word, walked away. That was the type of person she was, the type of person who couldn't bother to give attention to her own student once class was over. So, why would someone like her be willing to tutor him? He really wanted to know.
"Professor Bryant," Noah called after her, using his long limbs to catch up with her. She didn't bother to look at him as she kept her pace, her heels clicking against the marble floor as everyone in her path walked around the short-statured woman who looked like she was on a mission.
“Did you finally find the words you want to say to me?” Professor Bryant asked as she turned the corner, and in tow, he followed her. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her clear arrogance.
“Coach Benson told me that you were going to tutor me,” Noah said, and Professor Bryant finally glanced at him as if she suddenly remembered that she did tell Coach Benson that she would do something like that. Noah couldn’t tell if her expression was from surprise or annoyance.
“I did tell him that,” she said as she continued to walk, leaving Noah to wonder where exactly they were walking to. It wasn’t much of a problem for him. He didn’t have a class after this, and his practice wouldn’t be until later. But at the speed she was walking, it did make him curious.
“When will you be able to tutor me?” Noah asked. Though he wasn’t happy about giving up his free time for this, he was happy to know that he still had a chance of passing this class. After she had announced the next exam, Noah was positive that he was going to fail and would be benched for the rest of the season. If that happened, he didn't know what he would do. He could enter his name in the draft early and end his college career, but everything he had worked to achieve thus far would be a waste. How could he prove himself outside of his parents' name if he didn't show his skill on the ice? He had to prove himself. And if that meant spending a couple of extra hours with a professor he disliked, then he was willing to do just that.
“Weekends are out of the question,” she said with finality, and Noah didn't bother to argue against that. He wasn't keen on the idea of losing his weekends either. “We’ll have to do it sometime during the week.”
“What about now? I’m free for the next two hours,” Noah suggested as he nodded at a few of his friends passing by. They waved at him, and when he came across another group, this time girls, he winked at them. One of the girls, whose name he could not remember, he had hooked up with at a party. She looked at him with a knowing smile, blushing.
“I have a class in the next five minutes, so that won’t be possible,” Professor Bryant said as she glanced at the group of giggling girls who were waving at Noah. They cooed out his name in unison, and he winked once again, throwing his signature smile that got him the reputation as the ladies man he was.
“It seems that you’re quite the popular one,” Professor Bryant commented lightly, and Noah found himself wondering what that meant. If anyone else had said it, he wouldn’t think much of it, seeing it as a compliment. But for some reason, when she said it, it sounded different coming from her mouth, like she was judging him, or maybe even analyzing him. Maybe that's what all people who had psychology degrees did.