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“Why’d you call him a piece of shit? What do you know about that guy?”
“You think I don’t see the news like everyone else?”
I shake my head and continue on my way, the automatic doors opening for me as I storm my way back into the airport.
Wisely the officers don’t follow me.
But what probably wasn’t wise was my performance just now. Then again, maybe that’s exactly what I needed to get those dogs off my trail.
Time will tell…as it will also tell if I can resist doing what I did again.
Needing to be with Erica tells me I can.
But the beast inside me says a leopard can’t change its spot.
We’ll see. And I assume I’ll be seeing those two clowns again.
10
Erica
My professor walks past my desk, giving me a wink as he hands me my exam, face down.
Unable to wait, the anticipation causing my palms to sweat and my hands to tremble, I fumble for the paper, flipping it over to reveal an ‘A’.
Just as I pump my fist the bell rings. Acing this class is important to me. It’s in my major, unlike the elective where I showed up late a week ago after a night out with Sam.
This is the class that will help me land a good job when I graduate, employers place a higher emphasis on how I do here, so I’m extremely fired up at my grade.
Standing from my chair I gather my things, preparing to step outside and WhatsApp Sam about my success, letting him know I’ll practically be flying on my way to meet him now at Starbucks.
I tuck the last of my books into my Jansport and prepare to head up the steps to the door, but before I can a big body steps in front of me.
“Really good work, Erica,” my Professor Keith Allen says, as he jams his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
“Thank you,” I respond, trying not to make eye contact as my eyes drift to the floor, seeing he’s wearing penny loafers, with an actual penny in each.
“You know, you keep putting together test scores like these and I’ll have to introduce you, personally, to some of the companies that will start hiring here on campus next month.”
“You’d do that?” I ask, my chin rising as I look at him, only to come face to face with a devilish grin that telegraphs there’s going to be a catch.
“Well…ya know. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”
I swallow hard, looking up to see the last of the other students leaving the lecture hall, the door closing with a loud thud.
“Isn’t there a class in here after this one?” I ask, wondering why it feels so empty, trying to remind the professor that more students will be filing in any time now.
“Actually, my class…our class,” he corrects, moving even closer to me, so close I can feel the heat from his body and the smell of burnt coffee and mints, “is the last of the day. So we have it all to ourselves.”
He raises his hand toward my hair, my entire body shaking as he’s about to brush it back. I’m not sure if it’s instinct or my protection mechanism, but I drop my backpack so he can’t touch me, trying to diffuse the situation before I quickly drop to my knees to pick it up.
“Well, I wasn’t going to move so quickly, but…while you’re down there.”
I look up to see him laughing at his own joke, but the humor painted on his face quickly turns angry when I get to my feet and prepare to bolt up the steps.
He grabs my arm and I fling it, able to free myself as I take the steps two at a time, beelining it for the door.
“It was just a joke between friends!” he calls out. “Don’t forget your future is in my hands. I’m not someone you want to piss off, Erica Watson.”
