Page 25 of Teach Me Your Ways

11

GRADY

The next day, around one o’clock, I stood at the front of the classroom, facing my two teaching assistants. After a good, hard self-pleasing moment in the shower that morning, I felt like I could handle being in the same room with Cece.

All it did was take the edge off. But at least today she had skipped the tight skirt. She’d gone with jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. Yes, I could still see the curves, but there was no hiding them. If I didn’t want to look at the curves, I had two options. Either I clawed my eyes out or I wore a blindfold.

I wasn’t ending my career, which meant I was going to have to find a way to desensitize myself to the tits and ass on display. I could not look at my TA’s T and A.

“Alright, today’s straightforward,” I began, trying to project calm authority. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll introduce the class, hand out the syllabus, and then we’ll let them go. Half of them probably don’t even have their textbooks yet.”

Lina nodded enthusiastically. Cece, on the other hand, offered a small, knowing smile. The two were very different. I hadn’t quite figured out why Lina was in my class. Or studying archeology. Her manicure and dedication to fashion didn’t mesh with the other archeologists I knew.

But whatever. We’d see how she did. I wasn’t going to put a lot of stock in her teaching abilities. She wasn’t here based on merit. Her mother, Seraphina Reese, was friendly with Dean Carver and they had worked it out. There was a lot of competition to get one of the coveted positions as my TA. Working with me carried weight out in the academic world.

I perched on the corner of the old desk, hands braced on either side of me. “Look, all you have to do is help me wrangle some undergrads. The hardest work is showing up on time and not falling asleep at the podium.” I aimed the line at Lina, knowing she’d been out late, according to the student grapevine.

She looked slightly hungover. Her makeup skills were good, but I’d been doing the professor thing long enough to see a young woman that needed an extra cup of coffee.

“Lina, you’ll take attendance and help keep order among the wild freshmen.” I pointed at her with a rolled-up course outline.

“Cece,” I said, turning my attention to her. She met my gaze, then flicked it away, pretending to focus on her legal pad. “You’re fielding questions. For now, I’ll be doing most of the talking and lecturing, but once we all figure each other out, you’ll be taking turns giving lectures.”

I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus on the stack of syllabi in front of me instead of the way Cece’s pen moved across her notepad. Even her handwriting was distracting. It wasn’t the handwriting—it was her hand. Looking at her hand made me think about that hand on my chest. And cock.

“Questions so far?” I asked, directing the words toward the whiteboard behind them rather than making eye contact with either of my TAs.

“What if a student asks something we don’t know?” Lina’s voice had that slightly nasal quality that came with money and private schools.

“Then you say, ‘I don’t know, let me get back to you on that,’ and you ask me later. Don’t bullshit your way through an answer.” I risked a glance at Cece, who was nodding thoughtfully. Bad move. She’d tucked a strand of that red hair behind her ear, and I found myself longing to wrap that hair around my fist.

Shit. Get it together, Stone.

“The students are going to test you,” I continued, pushing off from the desk and moving to the window. Distance. That was what I needed. “Especially you two, since you’re closer to their age. They’ll try to see if you know what you’re talking about, if you’re a pushover, if they can get away with turning in assignments late or skipping presentations. Don’t let them. The minute you give one kid an inch, word spreads and suddenly everyone’s grandmother is dying and their laptops are crashing.”

Cece looked up from her notepad. “What about legitimate emergencies?”

“Use your judgment. If someone’s been showing up, participating, doing the work, and then something happens, that’s different than the kid who’s been a no-show suddenly needing an extension.” I kept my eyes on the quad outside the window, watching students hurry between buildings. Safer than looking at her. “When in doubt, ask me.”

“Got it,” she said. I could hear the confidence in her voice. She wasn’t intimidated by the prospect of managing undergraduates. Lina, on the other hand, was chewing on her perfectly manicured thumbnail.

“What if they don’t respect us?” Lina asked. “Some of these students are older than us.”

“Then you make them respect you,” Cece said before I could answer. “You know your stuff, you show up prepared, and you don’t take any shit. Age doesn’t automatically earn respect, competence does.”

I turned back toward them, moving to my desk. I was surprised by the steel in Cece’s voice. Lina looked a little taken aback by the directness of the response. Cece never failed to surprise me. She was acting like she was the professor. Maybe she’d been a TA before. That explained why she was assigned to my class.

“Exactly,” I said, meeting Cece’s eyes for a split second before looking away. “Authority comes from knowing what you’re talking about and being consistent. Half these kids are eighteen and think they know everything. The other half are hungover and just want to pass. They think this is one of those cool classes that’s all about going on field trips.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Lina asked.

“I’m teaching aspiring archeologists how to dig,” I answered. “Our goal is to teach them about the recovery and preservation of ancient artifacts and sites.”

Cece looked around the hall. I couldn’t tell if she was looking around because she wanted to not look at me or if she was looking for something in particular. When she turned back, she caught me watching her. Lina was looking at her phone and barely paying attention to the conversation.

Cece moved toward me. Her eyes were locked on mine, daring me to say or do something. I had a sudden idea of what it would feel like to be a mouse caught in a trap with a cat stalking closer. She stopped in front of my desk and grabbed one of the papers as if she hadn’t just turned me inside out with that look.

“Are we going to have field work this semester?” Cece asked, ignoring the moment of eye contact we’d just shared. “Hands-on experience?”