by R. R. Banks
"I can see the look in your eyes, Ronnie. Don't pretend that you don't feel something for him."
"I can't feel anything for him. He's my boss. And my former professor. And I barely know him."
"I don't think that's completely true."
Javi was right. Over the last few weeks Jude had started to relax around me and while I still knew very little about him, I felt like I was starting to get to know him. It made the feelings I struggled not to experience each time I saw him even more powerful.
"It's just professional," I assured him. "It has to be."
Javi nodded.
"Alright," he said. "But one of these days you're going to see what I see. Just you wait."
"Oh, no."
"See? I told you. I mean, that was a little sooner than I thought, but…"
"No," I said. "Not oh, no, to you. Oh, no about these papers."
"What's wrong?"
I took the paper that I was reading and turned it to lay it on the table so that Javi could see it, reaching across to draw brackets in red pen around a few sentences. I then sifted through the papers that I had already read and pulled another out, laying it beside the first and similarly identifying a section.
"That's the problem," I said.
His eyes scanned the paper as I picked up my tablet and ran a quick search.
"Those say the same thing," he said. "Like…for serious the same thing. What are the chances of two people coming up with the exact same thing for their paper?"
"I suppose a little better than three people."
"What do you mean?"
I turned the tablet toward him and swiped my fingers across the screen, increasing the size of the font so that he could see the section of text that I had highlighted.
"This is a paper on this topic published in a journal quite a few years ago."
"Are they allowed to do that?"
"Definitely not. But since this journal was published so long ago they thought that it was obscure enough that we wouldn't catch it. Unfortunately for each of them someone else in the class had the same idea."
"And their TA is the fastest researcher in the West."
"That might be my new calling. And speaking of calling, I should probably let Jude know about this."
"What is he going to do about it?"
"I don't know. Obviously, plagiarism is against University policy. It's actually grounds for expulsion. But it's up to him how he handles it."
"They might as well pack up their Trapper-Keepers now."
I was holding my phone against my ear as I turned to look questioningly at Javi.
"Are you just totally unaware of the year that you were born in?" I asked in a loud whisper.
"I'm timeless, Darling."
"You're something," I said.
"Excuse me?"
I winced at the sound of Jude's voice.
"That wasn't meant for you," I said. "I was talking to Javi."
"Alright. Is there something I can do for you?"
His voice sounded tense, almost irritated, but there was also a touch of lightness behind the words like he was happy to hear from me. I tried to ignore the flutter that the thought brought to my belly and pressed on.
"I found an issue in the papers that I was reading and I wanted to bring it to your attention."
"What type of issue?"
I explained what I found and heard Jude let out a long exhalation.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bother you with this, I just thought…"
"No, it's fine. You did the right thing. Can you bring the papers to me tomorrow morning?"
"Sure."
We ended the conversation and I went back to reviewing the papers, reading through them more closely to detect anything else that might have been lifted from research sources. By the time that I got through the papers I hadn't found any more directly copied passages, but I did have the compulsion to tell Jude he should give the class a refresher on the fine line between paraphrasing and plagiarizing and how to keep their toes off that line.
The next morning, I met Jude in a coffee shop just off campus. It was a refreshing change from always being in the lecture hall or his office, but it also felt strange to be somewhere public with him. I felt oddly on edge, as though I needed to act differently. When I walked into the coffee shop, Jude glanced up at me, and then gestured toward the chair across the table from him. He seemed little different than he always did and I tried to let that put me at ease. I sat down and placed the folder of papers in front of me. I had brought all of them with me but had the two with the issue on top. The source I had showed Javi was already pulled up on my tablet and I felt almost like I was playing lawyer, presenting my case to the intimidating judge that looked like he might still have a little bit of wild west mentality in him.
Just without the dust and with better clothes.
Jude took the papers from me and read over them slowly, then looked at the tablet. His eyes moved back and forth over both a few times before he put them down on the table.
"What are you going to do?" I asked. "Are you going to have them expelled?"
"Is that what you think that I should do?"
I was taken aback by the question and I stammered over my response for a few moments, unsure of exactly what to say.
"The University policy is that you can," I said. "If you brought them up to the honor court and had proof."
"That's true."
"But it's at your discretion. You can handle it privately if you prefer."
He nodded.
"That's true, too."
I suddenly felt as though I were the one being tested. He was looking at me, waiting for me to give him my thoughts on what should happen and my reasoning behind it. I felt off-balance, unsure of what I should say. I didn't want to disagree with him and make him angry, but I also felt like he was genuinely interested in my thoughts on the situation.
"I don't really know," I finally admitted. "I find it reprehensible that they would try to take someone else's thoughts and use them as their own, but at the same time, expulsion for one slip of judgment seems a little extreme. It could totally ruin their lives. But if they've done it once, they likely have done it before or will do it again, so they can't just get away with it. They need to understand the severity of their actions."
Jude stared at me for a few beats after I finished and I felt my chest shaking nervously.
"I agree," he finally said.
His voice was slow and even, controlled so it showed no emotion.
"You do?"
He nodded.
"Everyone has something in their lives that they wish that they hadn't done or that they could change. What happens after that can shape their entire future. I don't think that this has to be that for these students. I think that what they did is ridiculous, but nothing that a replacement assignment and maybe a little creative community service can't fix. And if I'm wrong and it doesn't fix it, then we'll see about letting the University get involved."
"That sounds like a good solution."
"I think so, too." He tucked the papers into his briefcase before meeting my eyes again. "You need to be more confident in yourself, Veronica. Trust yourself."
I suddenly felt like I was seeing more of Jude than I ever had. I had learned more about his character in those moments than I had in the rest of the time that I had been working with him, but I also felt like what I had learned had uncovered more layers of mystery. I could see something in his eyes that told me there was more to him than I was even beginning to discover.
Three days later I stood on one of the rehearsal stages of the dance building, hands on my hips as I watched the dancers in front of me working out a piece of choreography that they had been tripping over since learning it. I could see what they were doing wrong, but I didn't want to tell them. I wanted to wait and see if they could figure it out for themselves, giving their bodies the opportunity to feel the issue that they were having so that they could fix i
t naturally.
They repeated the section several times, having the same problem each time that they did it. Finally, they looked at me helplessly, defeated by the sixteen counts of movement. I stepped forward and guided them through it, taking the place of first one dancer and then the other, showing them the exact point when they were confusing the steps. A single change in the way that one of them was standing altered her grip on the other dancer, creating a cascade effect that prevented them from managing the rest of the choreography. As I led them through it, I explained each move to them, giving them a glimpse into myself and the motivation that went into what was developing into my senior piece. This was meant to be the culmination of all my training and experience throughout my years in the department, the piece that would act as the final determination of my grade and that would put me in front of the companies and directors who would hopefully control my career. I needed it to be perfect for them, but just as much I needed it to be perfect for myself. Even if those watching it didn't know the story behind the dance, I did, and I wanted each movement to honor it.
My heart swelled as I watched the dancers finally melt into the movement, flowing from one transition into the next with the precision that had been eluding them. They were both beaming when they finished and I offered them genuine applause.
"That looked amazing," I told them. "Remember how that felt so that you can keep hitting it. Alright, you two have worked really hard today. I'm going to go ahead and call the rehearsal. Go get some rest. I'll see you next time."
I hugged each dancer and watched them walk off the stage before leaning down and picking up the sweater I had shrugged off earlier in the practice. The sound of applause reverberated around me again and I looked out over the seats to see who was there. Though the doors of the theater were kept unlocked, it was meant to be a closed rehearsal. When I saw the observer, however, I knew that there was nothing I could have done to stop him.
"That was beautiful," Jude said.
I smiled at him as he walked down the aisle toward me as I had done toward him in the lecture hall so many times before. His eyes traced my body in my tight-clinging rehearsal clothes and I felt exposed and vulnerable, not just because of the stretchy clothes, but also because of the raw emotion of the dance that I hadn't realized was being shared yet.
"Thank you," I said. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged as I slipped my sweater back on and flipped my hair out of the back.
"You talk about your dancing so much. It seems really important to you. I wanted to see what it was all about."
"That's my senior piece," I explained. "I'll be dancing in it, too, but I wanted to work with those two as much as possible before the performance."
"I liked it," he said. "At least I think I did. I'll admit I'm not extremely familiar with dance."
I was flattered that he was showing interest in what mattered to me most and that he would put the time and effort into understanding it. I started to explain it to him but felt the words freeze in my throat. I wasn't there yet. Explaining it in simplified terms to the dancers was one thing. I couldn't yet bring myself to share it with Jude.
"Well, I'm glad you liked it. Even if you didn't really understand it."
He laughed and reached up to help me down from the stage. I felt warmth spread through me from where our skin touched and I drew my hand away from him quickly. The emotions that I was starting to feel toward him were getting more intense, and I couldn't let myself feel them. This position meant too much to me and had benefited me too much to threaten it. But it wasn't just my position that might be threatened. I knew that it was my heart that was at risk as well.
"I wanted to let you know that I handled the plagiarism situation with the students."
"How did that go?" I asked, picking up my bag and starting out of the building.
"I brought them both into the office and explained to them the gravity of the situation. I gave them a chance to explain themselves, which, of course, they couldn't, and then I told them what was going to happen next."
"And what's that?"
"They are each going to re-do the assignment in addition to another paper on the theme of honesty and integrity examples in literature. I've also connected them with a couple of outreach opportunities on campus that will allow them to use their writing and sharing skills to better use. They'll be volunteering at the library and working on letter writing campaigns for the military, prisoners, and those in the community coping with difficult times. Hopefully, something will come out of it for them."
"That sounds perfect."
We walked along in silence and I expected him to turn off and head in another direction, but he kept right beside me until we got to my car.
"I also wanted to know if you would be willing to help me with something."
"Of course. An assignment for the class?"
"Not exactly. Can you meet me at my office in the morning?"
I nodded, opening my door and slipping behind the wheel.
"Sure."
"Great. I'll see you at 9:30."
"See you then."
He closed the door and stepped back, giving me a small wave as I pulled away. I was curious about his request and wondered what he would need my help doing. If it didn't have to do with the class, I didn't know what I could do. But he seemed convinced that I would be able to help him, so I was willing to try. The fact that it meant spending time with him, possibly away from the school, made butterflies flutter in my belly.
Chapter Seven
Jude
I couldn't get the image of Veronica dancing out of my mind as I drove back to my house that afternoon. She was gorgeous up there on the stage, highlighted by the single hazy light that had been opened to its fullest, so it spilled pale illumination across the dark-painted wood without defined edges. What she wore was so completely different from the clothes that I usually saw her in. It clung to her, accentuating the tight nip of her waist and round curve of her hips. But it was the movement of that lush body that had really pulled me in and held my attention as I sat in the shadowy seats of the rehearsal space. I hadn't intended on going to the rehearsal. I had been in a meeting and was crossing campus toward the library to continue the research that I had been doing for a new piece I was planning to submit to a journal when the sign pointing out the dance rehearsal space caught my eye.
Seeing the sign reminded me of all the times that Veronica had talked about dancing. She spoke about it in a way that made me feel as though I was hearing a different part of her, like a piece of her was hidden away, waking up only when she talked about her love for dance. I knew that she spent most of her time when she wasn't in class dancing and thought that there was a good chance that she would be in the rehearsal space. I thought that I would dip in for a few moments to see what she was talking about and then continue on my way to the library. The moment I saw her moving across the stage, though, I was captured. I felt magnetized to her, drawn down the aisle and into the seat. It wasn't enough just to satisfy my curiosity. I needed to experience more of this.
As I sat there watching her guide the other dancers through the same movements, I noticed that it wasn't the same when they danced. They performed the same movements, made the same gestures, but it wasn't the same. When Veronica danced it was like she was consumed by the movements, like something was filling her and creating the dance rather than her body being the controlling factor. Though she was smaller than the other two people on the stage, when she danced, she seemed to take up more space, as though the energy, the expression created within her spread out from her body and filled the area around her.
The longer that I watched her, the more I acknowledged that the draw that I had toward her was growing more intense. I knew that it was only the powerful pull of my body, the primal attraction to her that was fueled further every time that I saw her. There were no emotions. I didn't do emotions. I had closed them off long ago. My body could crave, but not my heart.
"We're not staying here," I said.
"Oh," she said. "Where are we going?"
"I'll explain on the way."
She nodded and followed me out of the office. I led her to the parking deck and unlocked my car, waiting until she got inside to get behind the wheel. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her looking around the cabin, the expression on her face obviously impressed. I hadn't chosen one of my antique vehicles, but she still seemed struck by the smooth leather and gleaming controls. I remembered the car that I had seen her get into the day before. While well-maintained and cared for, the car was at least ten years old. It only furthered the suspicion that I had since I first met Veronica that she was not one of the students that was gliding through their years of college like they were an extension of their childhood, supported completely by their parents and without any concept of actual responsibility.
There were many things that I resented my father for, things that had changed the way that I saw the world around me even before I had a chance to experience it, but something that I always respected about him was his sense of independence and personal responsibility. Just as he had been required to by his father, he had required that I work from the time that I was very young, proving myself and learning the value of money before I was allowed to inherit the estate. While I chose to leave that career as soon as I could and instead devote myself to the University, the time that I had spent working and supporting myself was formative and gave me a greater appreciation for all that was provided to me.
I knew that it was different for the students that I saw meandering their way through their years of study, some of them taking a fifth or sixth year by changing their concentration, or even transitioning right into graduate school without a breath, continuing to cling to the apron strings. When I was working I knew that at the end of my time in the professional proving ground I would have my family's billions and the estate. Though some of those students came from affluent families, they would still need to find their own way in the world when they emerged from school. Their parents ensuring that they had everything taken care of for them, from their tuition to their housing to a new car every year, was preparing them only for the next year of school, not for the realities of life. The truth was that no matter how set they thought their life was, no matter what plans they held for their future, they didn't know what was going to come. They didn't know what they might need to face.