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Chapter Twenty-Two
Joshua
Naomi was up and out of bed before I was. I knew she was nervous before I found her in the kitchen, anxiously rubbing the handle of her tea mug. She looked a little better than yesterday, her hair was brushed into a smooth bun, she wore high waisted shorts and a tucked in t-shirt. But her eyes were still tired and anxiety was set between her brows.
“Good morning,” I said. I walked over and hugged my arms around her waist. I kissed her neck, her chin, then her lips and she sighed.
“I’m nervous. Aren’t you nervous? Why aren’t you dressed?” she said on one breath. I rubbed her arms and looked into her eyes for a second.
“I’m not nervous but I do need you to calm down. It can’t be good for your morning sickness if you’re stressed,” I said. Naomi put her mug down, the scent of mint wafted up. “I’ll be back,” I said and went to shower and get dressed. I’d left last night for a second to grab a change of clothes and my briefcase. My mind was oddly blank, I wasn’t sure how this would go one way or the other.
I got ready quickly and grabbed a granola bar from Naomi’s pantry. As we walked through the front door, Naomi’s eyes popped.
“What?” I asked.
“Do we take the same car or…?”
“Naomi, babe, relax,” I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. “We have different schedules so we should take separate cars,” I said. She pressed her lips together, looking embarrassed and I had to chuckle at her expression.
“I’m overthinking. My mind is moving at a million miles per hour,” she sighed.
“Focus on something scarier, like telling your parents about us and that you’re pregnant,” I said. Naomi’s expression fell and I took her hand, leading her stoically down the hall.
“I don’t know how the hell that’s going to pan out,” she muttered. “The last time I spoke to them it ended up in an argument, as usual.”
I looked at her face and saw regret in the pinch of her brow and how she pressed her lips together. We reached the elevators, I pressed the call button and we waited barely five seconds until the doors opened. We stepped inside alone. “Have you ever had a pleasant experience or conversation with them?” I asked.
“Yeah, they were a lot…warmer when I was young. They became really disapproving only when I decided to study philosophy in school,” she said and shrugged flippantly. I knew she cared though. If my parents got a divorce I’d be an honest-to-god wreck.
“I’m sure that was fueled by what they were going through in their relationship,” I said. “It just sucks that they took it out on you,” I added. Naomi snorted but didn’t respond after that.
We separated at the parking lot and for once, I didn’t turn on music in the car, didn’t call my sister or listen to an audio book or podcast. I drove in silence and prayed like heck that me and Naomi wouldn’t be penalized for having a relationship. The anxiety had set in from the moment I parked and started walking towards the Psychology building. I knew that my department head was in his office and would be for the next few hours. Naomi was supposed to meet me in my office, I wondered if she’d parked and made it up there already.
As I walked to the building, various students of mine called my attention to say good morning or ask passing questions about class. By the time I stepped into my office, I was sweating a little bit and Naomi was sitting at my desk, pinching the bridge of her nose with an intense look on her face.
“Hey, sorry, it took forever for me to get here,” I said. She waved her hand absently.
“It’s okay, it gave me time to calm myself down a little,” she said.
I walked to my desk and put my briefcase down then quickly logged into the desktop computer.
“I forgot to e-mail the class that I was going to be late,” I murmured.
“Shouldn’t you just cancel?” she asked.
“It might not take that long, it’s the first step of this process,” I said. I quickly drafted an e-mail and sent it. “Alright, I’ll go talk to Dr. Prescben and call you if he wants to see you too.” She nodded. I ran my fingers through my hair, took a deep breath, then walked to Prescben’s office, it was at the end of the hall. I faced the door— it was stained to give it a mahogany color—and knocked.
“Come in,” he called. I poked my head in and Prescben, a round, older man with grey streaks in his hair and a slight Texan drawl, put his newspaper down and waved me into the office vigorously. “Dr. James, come in, come in,” he said. “How’s everything?”
“Everything’s uh…” I closed the door behind me and sat across from him at his desk. He sat forward, picking up on my tone immediately. “I’ll just come out and say it. I have a girlfriend and she’s my student—my current student,” I said. Prescben blinked rapidly, his mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few breaths, then he sat back in his chair.
“How old is she?” he asked slowly. Prescben opened the bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged through it until he unearthed a stapled packet. The top of it read, “Ethics Report” in bold letters.
“She’s twenty-five,” I said. Prescben let out a deep sigh of relief.
“That makes things easier,” he murmured. “Alright, lay it out, tell me the beginnings of this relationship and how serious it is,” he said.
“It started the first week of classes, or the second week. We met off-campus and started seeing each other, casually at first but now it’s a serious relationship,” I said. I had to lie, if I admitted to having sex in my office, I was definitely going to be fired.
