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“What?” Tom hovered over my shoulder, reading the email. He starting laughing. “He has you worked out, doesn't he?” He teased.
“Didn’t this guy teach the importance of keeping a fair and impartial view of people accused of something within our society? Talk about judging a book by its cover.” I muttered, ignoring Toms comment.
Suddenly I felt as though I was five and had been asked to stand in the corner by the teacher. I was asked to stand in the corner and think about my actions a lot when I was younger. My report card regularly read I was a smart arse with a retort to everything. Not exactly in those words, but you get the drift. I'd always considered that one of my more endearing features, though not everyone would agree. That Emma was still in me somewhere, tho
ugh nowadays she usually saved her appearances for my mother.
Back to professor Asshole. Maybe I'd caught him on a bad day, but I was not used to being addressed like that. It was like I was half expecting him to drive over here to spank me on the bottom to teach me the importance of timing.
I blushed at the thought of that, not entirely convinced I wouldn't enjoy it slightly.
Mr Anderson,
I appreciate your thoughts on my academic abilities. However, if you look up my record you will see I have consistently scored above an A for my past units, and I plan to continue this trend. I have no intention of cruising through your class hoping for a pass, and I am offended you think you can paint that picture of me based on the very little you know about me.
Thank you for clarifying the assessment.
I will also be unable to attend your tutoring classes as I am housebound with Glandular Fever at the moment, and have been for the past month. Another thing you might have realised had you checked my record.
Emma Mancelli
Tom patted me on the back as I pressed send. “What a dick. Don't let him walk all over you, Em.” Glancing up, I rolled my eyes at him. He grinned, knowing better than anybody that nobody walked over me.
“Asshole.” I poked my tongue out at the screen. I felt better already. Glandular fever was the perfect defence. I'd picked that little gem up from an Agoraphobia forum. The symptoms for Glandular fever being so broad and long lasting, it really was the perfect cover. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed of my Agoraphobia, but I had learnt early on just how much of a stigma was attached to the illness. It quickly became easier to attach a more ‘acceptable’ illness to myself.
Cass had said Anderson was a bit of a cock, and I was beginning to see why. My reply had been a bit more heated than intended. He'd just copped ten years’ worth of cooped up anger. Any other day I probably would have taken his comments with a grain of salt, or at least with a little less attitude.
“I have to go for a few hours Em, but call Cass if you need her. I will drop past and let her know what happened.” He leaned down and kissed me, his shaggy blonde hair falling over his face. He was in dire need of a haircut, not that I’d managed to convince him of that. I smiled up at him. He was such a wonderful person. “I will check on you later.”
An alert popped up.
Chapter Two
Miss Mancelli,
I am sorry, I didn't understand your circumstances, and I should have checked your file before replying. I am working on a case at the moment that has me very frustrated, and I think your email was just the wrong place at the wrong time. Add to that the 26 requests I've had for extensions over the past three days and I hope you can understand my reaction. One student's request stated she couldn't complete the essay on time because she forgot she was enrolled in the subject. Yes, I am serious. Needless to say, her request was denied.
I have attached some notes you might find helpful. Have you picked your cases yet? I may have some more information on those if that will help?
Again, I am sorry. I hope you can forgive my behaviour.
Simon Anderson
Huh. How about that. I felt pretty proud of myself. Proof that speaking your mind can get you places, some of the time. If only the parole board had been so easy to persuade.
Jumping up, I did a little victory dance, not entirely sure what I'd won here, but it felt good. So he was having a bad day. Get over it. Every day is a bad day when you're agoraphobic. God I needed to start writing these down. I can see it now, my own range of mental illness T-shirts.
Absolute gold.
I focused back on the email. I had no idea what would possess someone to become a professor. Twenty-Six requests for extensions in a class of about ninety? Seriously? That would piss me off big time. Not to mention all the marking, exams, lectures, and tutoring. No wonder the guy was having a bad day.
Mr Anderson,
Apology accepted, thank you for the notes. Sorry if I sounded defensive, I guess being cooped up at home has taken its toll on me.
Emma
Again his reply was immediate. Wow, this guy has fast hands. I blushed at my insinuation, even though it was not intended.
