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Chapter Two
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Sitting on the couch, I reach up to dim the lights and glance out the window.Not one light has been on in his house for two days now.I open my laptop to grade a few essays before turning in for the night.My email pings, Message fromProfessor Manning.
What can this be about?I click on the envelope icon.
Miss Johnson,
Tomorrow (Friday) at eight AM sharp, report to my office.
Oh, shit.What did I do?I’ve never been asked to come to his office in the past.Work has always been sent electronically, or I pick it up in the bin on top of the filing cabinet at the end of the day.I click on reply and type:
Confirmed.
I finish the last read-through of the essay and close my laptop.The clock on the cable box shows it’s after midnight.I stretch my arms out above my head and yawn, “Time for bed.”
My laptop is plugged in to charge, and I turn off the light on the end table.The room goes dark, and as I walk past the bay window, I notice a light on next door.I stop in the shadows to see if there is any movement when suddenly he appears.
He looks stressed, holding what I assume is a cup of coffee.Shirtless and in a pair of gray sweatpants.Damn.
Needless to say, I barely slept.My alarm goes off, and I drag myself from under the comforter.Shuffling my feet across the room to start getting ready for work, I reach and turn the radio on to listen for the weather as I grab a towel off the shelf above the toilet and take a quick shower.
Once I’m dressed and ready for the day, I unplug the laptop and grab a to-go coffee cup.With my keys in hand, I turn the lock for the front door and let it close behind me.Off to school, still wondering why Professor Manning has called me to his office so early.
Fifteen minutes later, I am standing outside his office door.It’s locked, and the lights are off.I guess he isn’t here yet.
I lean against the wall and pull my phone out to check for messages.
“Excuse me, Miss Johnson.I apologize for being late.I missed the bus this morning.”He steps past and unlocks the door, walking in as he flips the switch for the lights.
His bag lands on the desk with a thump, and he looks up.“Please close the door and take a seat,” he motions toward the two leather chairs in front of his desk.
I do as he asks and sits in the chair closest to the door, dropping my backpack on the floor next to me.
“Well, it’s eight AM, not sharp.Why am I here an hour before classes start?”I lean back, throwing a little attitude his way for being late, and cross my arms.
