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Emma,
Please, call me Simon. It must be very hard for you. I can’t even handle two days at home with a cold! Watch some movies, read a book, it might make time pass for you. Or better yet, do some homework ;)
Simon
Oh, on a first name basis now are we, I mused.
I kicked my legs up under me.
Simon. I had a cat named Simon when I was little. He was underweight, scrawny and full of worms when I brought him home. I had found him behind the dumpster of the local shops. He also scratched my dad on the back. That was probably my fault, considering I threw poor Simon onto his back from two feet away. Poor terrified Simon. My dad hated him after that, and I’d never owned up.
I tried to associate the name Simon with the deliriously sexy voice I'd heard on the lecture recordings. It just wasn't working for me. I kept seeing that poor defenceless scrawny cat.
I realised I hadn't thought about Derek in over fifteen minutes. I was more than happy to play email tag with Simon if it kept my mind off things.
Simon,
In the last 24 hours I've watched three movies, read a book, and watched countless reruns of Seinfeld. I am the master of trying to make time pass faster.
Oh, and I have also bathed Carol.
Emma
Beep. I clicked on his reply.
Emma,
Carol? Who the hell is Carol? I have visions in my head I probably shouldn't have as your teacher.
Simon
“Oh shit.”
The inappropriateness of my comment wasn’t completely accidental, but now I felt weird. What the hell was I doing? No doubt he was fighting off images of me and my smutty neighbour Carol with her heaving breasts heating things up in the shower. I glanced at the windowsill, where Carol had just hissed at me. She glowered at me. Carol always looked at me with disapproval. I swear that cat hated me. Especially when I worked her into awkward conversations with strange professors.
Simon,
Oh yes, you should have seen her! We had a bit of a food fight, and she ended up head to tip covered in trifle (This was true. Long story). The least I could do was get in there with her and help her wash the mess out of her long golden locks. I couldn't keep my hands off her!
It was all good though. We spent hours rolling on the bed after and finally fell asleep (again true).
Emma.
I was flirting with Simon, and it felt good. Human contact with someone new. It had been so long since I'd had any type of conversation with someone outside my circle of friends and family. Unless you consider the fifteen year old grocery delivery boy a social outlet. I don't. Ping!
Emma,
I must admit I sat here speechless for the good part of five minutes. I know that you're messing with me, but not all of me agrees, or wants to agree at least. Can you please put me out of my misery here and tell me who the hell Carol is.
Remember, I am your teacher. I can fail you.
Simon.
I laughed at his empty threat. I'd love to be in on that conversation when he told the dean the reasons behind my fail mark. I'm sure he knew as well as I did our email exchanges were probably breaking several rules about teacher/student relations. Finally, deciding he had suffered enough, I tapped out an email telling him who Carol was. He replied back straightaway (again).
Who names their cat Carol? Are you serious? What a poor cat. Anyway, you have distracted me for long enough. I need to go do some work now. I am giving you my home email only because I don't check my work one as often as I should. If you get stuck with any of the notes, or need to clarify anything, please let me know.
Thanks for the chat Miss Mancelli
