AllFreeNovel
Share Us
33
Taylor
The Stallions cruised through November with a series of wins against the Bears, Chiefs, and then Chargers. The talk of the town was Brody Carter’s performance on the field, and how his slump was officially dead.
Maybe I make him a better version of himself, too, I thought happily.
As if my love life wasn’t fulfilling enough, things were going great with my career at Utah. My students gave me high praise on RateMyProfessor.com, and most of them had good grades in my classes. My relationship with the other professors was beginning to blossom as well, and I began eating lunch with the other faculty almost every day.
The last week in November, I got an email from the Department Chair asking if I could teach a fourth class in the spring semester. That was what I had been hoping to do, so I enthusiastically accepted.
Brody was out of town on Thanksgiving. I wanted to visit my family for the holiday, but it was just too quick of a turnaround time to make the trip to California worthwhile, so I stayed in Salt Lake City. I wasn’t alone though, because Dean Armbruster and his wife hosted Thanksgiving at their house and invited all of the faculty who would otherwise be alone.
I made small talk with the other professors while nursing a cup of wine. John Conningsworth and Beth Throckmorton chatted me up about their recent weekend getaway up into the mountains.
“It’s a secluded cabin,” Beth said. “A single room. One of those antique wood stoves to heat the place.”
“The bed was big and warm, though,” John said.
Beth gave him a loving look and the two of them snuggled together.
“You two are already going away on trips together?” I asked. “You’ve only been dating a month.”
“Less than a month!” Beth said cheerfully. “But we both feel that life is short. You should be with the person who makes you happy.”
I pondered that while glancing at the television. The Stallions were currently playing the Dallas Cowboys, and the game was tied in the third quarter. Brody was having a phenomenal game, but he was only one man, and the Stallions defense wasn’t able to stop the Cowboys formidable running game.
“How are they doing?” Dean Armbruster asked me. “Oh good. They’re tied.”
“We should be up at least twenty points,” I replied. “We’ve scored on nearly every possession, but then the Cowboys immediately go down the field and score, too.”
The Dean looked at me appraisingly. “I did not realize you were such a fan, Professor Fox.”
“I follow the team when I can,” I said modestly.
Professor Lamar McHolmes appeared on the other side of me. “Don’t be modest! Professor Fox is one of the cheerleaders on the team.”
The Dean blinked at me. “A cheerleader? Truly?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t really advertised that I was a cheerleader on the side, but I hadn’t gone out of my way to hide it, either. The only people who I had directly told were Lamar and Eric. But it seemed that neither of them had told anyone. At least, not until now.
What will they think of me? I wondered. Will they react the way Eric did, with scorn and condescension?
“I am, yes,” I admitted. “It’s just a hobby on the weekends. I make sure it never interferes with any of my classes…”
“I cannot imagine doing that!” Beth said. “Why aren’t you at the game right now?”
“We only cheer at home games. We don’t travel with the team. Except if we make the playoffs—then we’ll travel to road games. Fingers crossed.”
“That takes an impressive amount of coordination,” said Professor Topher Holkins, who was old enough to be my great grandfather. “You must practice often.”
“Whenever I can,” I said.
For the next few minutes, the other Paleontology professors bombarded me with questions about the life of an NFL cheerleader. How much I got paid, if I received harassment on the sidelines, if I knew any of the players. I answered their questions honestly—while omitting some personal details about a certain tight end. To my immense relief, they were all supportive and interested in my side-job rather than put off by it.
When the questions died down, I glanced at Dean Armbruster. He had been silent through all of this, and his face was a mask.
“Cheerleading on Sundays, and then teaching a class first-thing Monday morning,” he mused. “Professor Fox, I must admit I underestimated you. It is truly remarkable to excel in multiple fields simultaneously. You are a modern Renaissance woman.”
The relief that flooded into my body almost made my legs tremble. “Thank you, Dean.”
He gestured at me with his wine glass. “I heard you’re taking a fourth class in the spring. I’m confident you will seize the reins with as much enthusiasm and skill as you have your fall classes. Keep this up, and you will be well on your way toward tenure. Come, everyone! My wonderful wife has just informed me that dinner is served.”
I grinned to myself the rest of the night, and not even the Stallions loss to the Cowboys brought down my mood.
