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Something I’ve never done, especially not here at this university, and especially not with the likes of my calculus professor.
I consider slinking out if I can blend in with the crowd, but because I am slow to get moving, most everyone is gone except a few stragglers. Thomas takes a look around the room as if to remember good times, and spots me right off the bat.
Shit.
“Hi,” I call, waving and trying to sound more enthusiastic than I feel.
I inch toward the front of the class where the guys have surrounded the professor. I don’t want to get too close, but also don’t want to come off as totally rude. And surprise of surprises, Professor Dickwad is wearing one of the first smiles I’ve ever seen on him, looking from one guy to the next as if they’re his long-lost best buds.
Completely ignoring me. Of course.
I nudge Thomas. “Hey, I gotta get to my next class—”
But he throws an arm around my shoulder, pretty much trapping me. “Hold up, Rose. We’re here to talk to you about something.”
They’re here for me?
I stand on the edge of the four, looking anywhere but at the professor so he knows I feel the same way about him that he does me. The guys fill him in on how they’re approaching their start at seminary and jabber on about other boring shit.
“Well, guys,” Professor Green says in a raised voice, possibly to get my attention, “you can start your charitable acts right now and help this lady right here with her studies.”
I glance at him and it’s all I can do to not stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry at him, that’s how juvenile he is making me feel.
Charitable acts, my ass.
I need something more like a damn miracle.
Which these guys might also be able to handle, right?
Matthew chuckles, looking my way. “Funny you should say that, Don.”
Fuck all. They’re on a first name basis with this jerk?
“We were just going to talk to her about that very thing,” he adds, gazing at me with that damn adorable, half-cocked smile.
My heart beats a little faster. “Really?” I ask, moving into the conversation circle, but still ignoring Dickwad. “You… can fit me into your schedule?”
Guess I’d assumed they were busy with pre-God School stuff, whatever that might entail.
“Oh, geez,” Professor Green says, looking at his watch and gathering his things in a panic. “I have Differential Equations in five minutes and it’s clear across the building.”
Oh, the exciting life of an advanced mathematics teacher.
“See ya later, Don,” the guys call out in a chorus while he jogs out of the classroom.
When the door closes behind the professor, and I can suddenly breathe easier, I turn back to the them. “You call that jerk by his first name?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in disgust.
John shrugs. “Yeah. Don’t you? I mean, I know he can be difficult. And he clearly favors the students who do well in his class over those who don’t.”
So much for a commitment to teaching. The creep doesn’t even try to hide it.
“I do not call him by his first name. I don’t call him anything, really. So, you’re confirming he’s pretty much an asshole?” I ask.
Amusement washes over John’s face. “I wasn’t going to put it like that, but I guess that’s an accurate description from your perspective.”
Thomas steps up to the lectern, putting his hands on either side of it with a tight grip.
Just like priests in church do.
