by Claire Adams
Iris refused to look in my direction as she made her way through the silent classroom to take a seat without uttering a reply. I took a deep breath and continued to talk about the exams I had graded the night before. I handed them back, and when I reached Iris’ test, I paused before handing it to her.
She held up a hand without looking at me, waiting wordlessly for it. I briefly wondered if she knew what the grade was before I set it in her waiting palm. I continued through the rows, pausing to offer compliments to the ones who did good.
The rest of the time, I let them talk about their reading assignment amongst one another. It gave me time to take in Iris’ rather agitated behavior as she flicked through the test, undoubtedly reading my note that I had left and not listening to the conversation about her.
What had happened to her?
I rubbed my jaw. I had my fair share of scars that I carried around deep inside of me. That’s why I loved writing. That’s why I loved rugby and teaching. They were outlets away from my fucked up family.
But Iris seemed unable to cope with whatever was chipping away at her. The world rested on her shoulders. Someone else’s world, I thought, clicking my pen absently. It had to be something pretty dramatic to make her so hostile toward me.
Not that I could ever get close enough to understand. I knew the rules just as well as she did as a graduating senior. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have those long, curved legs wrapped around my waist. The possibility of that made me harden slightly, and I had to shift in my chair to hide it.
Iris didn’t strike me as the type to blatantly break rules, even if she was purposely showing up late to my class. Certain rules were okay to break. Other rules cost your job and led to a ruined reputation.
I had to keep that in mind when Iris raised her head to look up at me. Her eyes narrowed at me in wordless irritation.
Once class concluded, I talked with a few lingering students who had come up to my desk to inquiry about the essay due on Friday. I spotted Iris standing impatiently behind a few freshman girls, and before she had a chance to bolt from the room, I smiled apologetically up at the students gathered in front of my desk.
“I’m sorry, ladies,” I said. “I have to speak with Ms. Paige before she goes to her next class. If you all need me, I have my planning period from 11:00-1:00.”
They left after shooting Iris a series of glares. She merely rolled her eyes at them. I waited until the classroom door clicked shut before folding my fingers calmly in front of me while I waited for the outburst.
“I don’t understand this,” Iris finally blurted out, flicking at the F on the paper. “Where did I go wrong, in your esteemed opinion?”
I didn’t even bother telling her to watch her tone. I doubted she spoke to other professors the way she spoke to me. I certainly didn’t mind it, either. It provided some wry amusement to see the effect I had on her, whether she was conscious of it or not.
“When was the last time you read Light in August?” I asked.
“A few years ago,” she replied, frowning at me. “I remember it, though, because Faulkner is one of my favorite authors.”
“Well, you got a few questions wrong on basic things. The deeper concepts you got easily.” I grabbed the test from her hand. “And, for twenty-two years of speaking English, you made basic grammar mistakes that I’d expect in a freshman student.”
Color filled Iris’ cheeks. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before finally letting out a ragged sigh.
“Okay. I should’ve read the book again. I’ll give you that.”
I nodded gravely. “Yes, you should’ve. You’re a graduating senior. You know better than skipping out on assignments.”
“Yeah, I know.” She pinched her nose in exasperation. “I just have a ton of things going on in my life right now and a few classes that are taking up all my time.”
“You’re an honor student. What else did you expect?”
“I didn’t expect anything else,” she replied, shoulders sagging down. “Look, I understand why you’re riding me,” I stirred in more arousal at those choice words, “but, all I need is a passing grade to graduate from here and to get out of Utah.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “Why do you want to leave Utah?”
“Personal reasons,” she said flatly. “I’m sorry for being late all the time, but I’m honestly just trying to get through these last few months. I just need a passing grade to leave.”
I leaned back in my chair to look up at Iris in contemplation. She returned my gaze pleadingly, but I had already my mind made up about what she needed to do.
“I can’t give you a passing grade just because you asked for one,” I said, and ignored her crestfallen expression. “Stop by my office later this evening for some tutoring. We’ll talk more about it then.”
“Tutoring?” she repeated dubiously.
“Yes,” I replied, nodding. “Tutoring. That is what I’m requiring you to do if you want to pass this class.”
She chewed on her bottom lip again; that instantly brought my attention to her ruby-colored lips. “There’s nothing else I can do other than that?”
I could see where other professors had fallen to this temptation. It was far too easy to suggest the many ways Iris could earn a grade in my class, but I needed this job. I needed it badly.
Clearing my throat, I glanced up at the clock above the door. “I’m afraid not,” I said, gathering my things for the next class I had in ten minutes down the hall. “Come to my office this evening, and we’ll do some tutoring and talk about your grade. That’s all I’m offering to you at the moment.”
“This is not going to be my day,” she muttered, shoving her test into her bag. Not uttering another word, she stalked out of the classroom without tossing me another glare or even a glance.
The door opened a second later to reveal a visibly amused Kale. “Your session with your senior go well?”
“Real well,” I chuckled. “Can’t you tell? I can hear her cursing my name from down the hall.”
“I have to give her props,” he said, shaking his head. “She has a spine to carry that personality beneath all that quiet demeanor. I heard a few other professors talk about her the other day. Iris Paige, right?”
“That’s her,” I said, looking up in interest. “What’d they have to say?”
“They said she’s talented and will go far with her writing if she chooses to go for it. Remind you of anyone?”
I sighed. “If you’re referring to me, then yes. She does remind me of myself as a graduating senior. What else did the other professors say? I barely get a hello every morning when I see them getting coffee.”
I didn’t expect friendships in the staff at PHU. Maybe general friendliness, but I hadn’t received any warm welcomes quite yet. I had taken a job that was apparently cursed in their eyes, but I wanted to yell at them, “For Christ’s sake! This position isn’t cursed or contagious. It’s a damn job.”
Kale looked a bit troubled about that. “They all see the same thing you do. There is something going on outside of her life on PHU that causes her to be distracted in class. She’s smart, but unable to commit to her academics.”
That part I could believe. It was hard getting her to focus in class and take the constructive help that she was in desperate need of.
“She needs to be open if she wants to be a writer,” I said, standing up from my desk. “You and I both know you can’t be closed-minded in this area. You won’t ever harness talent if you think you already know everything.”
“Haven’t you heard? Graduating seniors already know it all. They’re about to have a rough life slap in the face.”
I couldn’t argue with Kale about that. Leaving college behind had felt like a thick bubble bursting around me, but I had a gut feeling that Iris’ bubble had popped a long time ago. She carried a sense of reality about her that most college students lacked.
“Sometimes I feel like I�
��m talking to a wall when it comes to English,” I said. “I don’t understand how some of them can care so little about it.”
Closing the classroom door behind me, I looked down the brightly lit hallway to where my other freshman English students were already gathered outside the classroom door.
“It’s part of the job as a Freshman English professor,” Kale said, sighing. He walked with me until his office door before turning to look at me. “All incoming freshman have to take general classes to graduate. If they don’t care, that’s on them. We can only do so much besides give them a grade for either caring or not. Give them the grade they work for.”
He waved goodbye before disappearing into his office. I walked toward my class and plastered a fake smile on my face. I didn’t care if Iris fought me left and right about doing the work because she was a graduating senior and had a slew of personal problems in her life.
I was going to help her whether she wanted it or not.
Chapter Ten
Iris
My mood only worsened as the day continued. I had no idea why Noah seemed hell bent on making my life more stressful than it already was, but now I had a failing grade and tutoring sessions to go to. Which meant I had to be alone with him.
The butterflies started in my stomach again at the thought. I stomped down on the feeling as I reached the dining hall to meet Bailey. Those thoughts were treading into dangerous territory I didn’t want to be in.
I found Bailey on the bottom floor of the dining hall ordering a large coffee from the little coffee stand everyone frequented first thing in the morning and in between classes.
“There you are,” she said, pouring a packet of sugar into her steaming coffee. “I was wondering if you got my text earlier.”
“One hot coffee,” I told the barista and slid over a few dollars. “Sorry. I had tons of work to do today in between classes.”
“Always the studious one.” She sighed dramatically. “Anyway, are you ready to go to the movies? It starts at 6:30, and I want to get there early to get good seats and tons of junk food.”
“I can’t,” I said bitterly.
She sipped at her coffee. “If its homework, just do it when we get back. I’m not in the mood to stay put tonight.”
“You’re never in the mood to stay put,” I replied, taking a hold of my coffee when the barista slid it across the counter. The heat from the cup warmed the chill out of my fingers. “I can’t go because Professor Webber is making me do tutoring for that freshman class.”
“So, bail on the freshman.”
“I wish I could.” Ditching to go eat a bucket of buttered popcorn did sound tempting compared to being berated about my grade for a class that I shouldn’t have to be in the first place. “I meant, he told me I need to take the tutoring to pass this class. He’s requiring it.”
“Seriously?” Annoyance glittered in Bailey’s eyes. “I think you’re just saying that because you have the hots for him,” she stated calmly. “I saw the way you two were eyeing each other up in the library. It’s so obvious that you find him attractive.”
“I do not,” I shot back, giving her a warning glare. “Don’t talk like that in public. People can hear you.”
“Fine,” she said, coolly. She tilted her chin up. “I guess I’ll just see you at the apartment then. I’ll go to the movies by myself.”
“I don’t have a choice, Bailey,” I said, exasperated by her bitchy mood. “We can go tomorrow night if you want to go that bad.”
“I’m going tonight. See you later.”
She turned on the heel of her boot to stalk up the stairs to the main dining hall. I watched her curls swing gracefully against her shoulders until she disappeared. Some days it was utterly exhausting trying to figure out if Bailey wanted to be my friend, or if she wanted to make me feel like shit.
I munched on an apple on my way back to the English Department with a twisting stomach. This was the last thing I wanted to do after classes were done for the day, but if I had any hopes of graduating, I had to do what Noah wanted me to do – even if I thought it was pointless.
Snorting, I tossed the apple core into the trashcan before heading to the large seating area on the first floor used for tutoring and studying. Only one student sat at a table, flipping through a book with bored indifference. I scanned the floral, stuffed chairs for Noah before letting out a relieved breath.
“Actually here before him,” I said, taking a seat at a table, as well. “He can’t harass me about being late now.”
The other freshman student turned to give me a weird look. I clicked my mouth shut and pulled out the binder I used for class while I waited impatiently for Noah to arrive. He had to be late to make a statement.
“Is this seat taken?”
I looked up to find a girl, a freshman student no doubt from how young she appeared, staring down at me with a warm smile. She tucked a short, black tendril of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.
“No,” I replied, shrugging. “Take a seat if you want.”
She smiled broadly. “Thanks. I feel like a loser sitting here by myself.”
“Right. Are you here for tutoring?”
“Yes,” she said, taking a seat across from me. “Professor Webber wanted to discuss my exam with me.”
That only made me feel marginally better. I had no doubts that like the rest of the female population on campus, she was here for other reasons besides tutoring. I heard what the girls whispered about whenever Noah walked by. I thought about those things, too, sometimes.
I sighed inwardly as I did a quick scan of the girl seated across from me. Not that Noah would ever consider someone like me. I kept it simple as I always did by wearing leggings and a sweater. The girl across from me actually had makeup on, styled black hair that came to the middle of her neck, and nice clothes that complimented her petite frame. She screamed temptation.
“I’m Jen, by the way,” she said, still smiling at me. “I’m a freshman here.”
The warmth of her tone softened me a bit. “I’m Iris Paige,” I said. “I graduate this May.”
I half-expected Jen to question why I was still in freshman level English, but she didn’t appear too curious about it.
“Cool,” she said. “I bet you’re ready to get out of here by now. I’m just a freshman, and I’m already wishing that the next four years will fly by.”
“It will,” I assured her. “Don’t worry about that.”
I had walked onto the PHU campus four years ago, nervous and excited about where my life would go. It seemed surreal to think that those four years were already almost up, and that next year, I’d be wherever the wind told me to go.
“So,” Jen said. “What do you plan on doing with your degree once you graduate?”
“I’ll probably just find some sort of writing job on the East Coast,” I said. “I haven’t given too much thought or commitment to it yet. I want to keep my options open, you know?”
“Totally. I don’t even know if I want to be an English major. All I know is that I have to take this class first and foremost to get it out of the way.”
“Yeah, don’t fail it,” I said, sarcastically. “You don’t want to be stuck with a whole bunch of freshman your senior year.”
Jen laughed. “I bet it sucks.”
“It does,” I said, and flushed when she looked at me. “I meant, some of you suck. Not you, though.”
“Thanks,” she said, grinning. “I’m in the afternoon classes, but I think Professor Webber will let me transfer to the morning one you are in.”
A smooth voice interrupted us before the conversation could go any further.
“Nice to see you here on time, Ms. Paige.”
My lifted mood dampened the second I heard the sarcastic comment. I turned in my chair to look up at Noah with a scowl. “Nice to see that you’re the late one for once.”
Noah’s lips twitched. “I’ll be right with you both,” he said. “I’ll talk to you last, Ms
. Paige.”
“Great,” I mumbled under my breath, turning back in my chair with an irritated sigh. “I can’t wait to hear about how horrible I’m doing in your class.”
“I’m sure that you are. I would be, too.”
I dug my fingers into my palms to keep myself from responding. Jen watched our exchange with wide eyes and waited until Noah was occupied with the other student before whispering, “Girl, you got some major balls to talk to a professor like that.”
I sucked in a deep breath to calm the nerves in my stomach. Our exchanges lately left me feeling breathless and flushed, and I had no idea why. I fanned myself with my hand despite how chilly it felt in the building. They never turned the heaters on after classes were done.
“I normally don’t ever talk to professors besides in class,” I said.
“What’s different about Professor Webber, then?”
“He-” I started, but there was nothing I could say to explain the torrent of emotions I felt whenever Noah looked my way. I rarely looked at him as a professor, and that was a very alarming thought. I looked down under Jen’s curious stare. “Nothing. There’s nothing different about him.”
I chewed on the pad of my thumb while Noah ventured over to our table to speak with Jen first. Once he finished talking with her, he turned to look at me with a smile that showed off his straight white teeth.
“Ready for our tutoring session?” he asked.
His calm expression made it hard to tell if he was teasing. I pulled out my exam to slide it across the table, but Noah took a seat next to me instead. My heart galloped to a frantic pace again. I scooted to the edge of the other chair to put some distance between us.
“I’ll see you around, Iris,” Jen said, gathering her papers and books. “Maybe we could meet up to work on homework together?”
“Sounds great,” I said, thickly.
She wrote something down quickly on a piece of notebook paper before handing it over to me. “My number,” she said, smiling at me. “Text me. I’ll meet you at the library anytime.”
“Yeah. I’ll send you a text sometime.”