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“I get it. Haunting me-”
“What the fuck is haunting?”
“-is a lot easier for you than just saying that.”
“Saying. What?”
“That whatever this,” my free finger floats back and forth in the empty space, “is…er…was…um…could’ve maybe been?” Cringing convinces that digit to push up my falling glasses. “Can’t be.”
“Can’t?”
“Won’t be.”
“Won’t?”
“Shouldn’t?” Eager to find the right phrasing leads to more verbal floundering. “Is shouldn’t the right word?” My hands wave theatrically in the air. “That just sounds so Shakespearian-”
“Not a real word.”
“That is a real word unlike flusterated!”
“Which you are.”
“I am not flusterated!” Both sets of fingers scrunch in the air in tandem with my nose. “I am…simply…” flicking away a random forehead strand is executed in a poor attempt to regain my composure, “saying…that your choice in basically cutting off communications since we…had…a…moment-”
“That was more than a fucking moment, Emmerz.”
“-by haunting me-”
“You mean ghosting?”
“Huh,” escapes abruptly along with an embarrassed corner lip bite. “I’ve been saying that wrong?”
“Yeah.”
Story of my life.
My real life.
Not the future version of me who has all her shit together and picks up on social cues and would have completely seen all the “he’s just trying to bang you” flags I’m sure loner, lives in her work me missed because she had no phone a friend option to her Gam Gam anymore.
Pushing past the blunder is difficult yet done – albeit not gracefully, “Well, whatever the fuck it’s called, message received. And message agreed.”
His dark brows darting down begins tying my stomach in knots.
“You are the student. I am the teacher. And that is all.” Objection rips through his expression; however, I quickly let my lips run loose again to prevent hearing it, “Today’s subject is mentioned on your syllabus, and if you lost your syllabus-”
“It’s online,” Hogan lifelessly interrupts.
“Correct. And since we’ll be diving into styles and genres and additional examples on Thursday, there’s no need to stay behind today to attempt to gather missed information due to other, more pressing, obligations.”
A single nod is all I’m given.
“So,” sudden movement over his shoulder has me slightly leaning to the side to see the unexpected arrival who I hope heard none of the inappropriate things, “if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting I need to attend with the gentleman behind you.”
Who I had no fucking clue was coming to evaluate me today.
Why?
