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“Nothing, Professor Grant. I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I’m a trashy person who cheats on tests, so I don’t expect that I’ve earned any sort of trust.”
“Justin.”
“I don’t need anyone to worry about me or look after me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as I tried to figure out what might have set him off. In silence, I watched him practically come undone in front of me. His hands shook as he picked up the slides. He kept his head lowered so I couldn’t see his face, and it took every ounce of mental strength for me to keep myself from physically reaching out to him.
I decided the best thing was for me to let him be, but for me to keep my eye on him. The last thing I wanted was for him to ever leave my presence upset about something. Justin continued to set the trays of slides out on the tables while I resumed making the study guides. I looked up and checked on him periodically.
I considered demanding that he tell me what suddenly happened, but Justin was still somewhat of an unknown for me. Granted, this was my second semester with him, but I’d only really conversed with him in a classroom setting. The only personal things I knew about him were that he had a lot of family stress at home surrounding his sick sister and there were financial struggles.
After he busied himself with re-cleaning the microscopes, he wandered closer to the front table where I was working. Justin was still pale, but he set his hands on the table, and they didn’t seem to be shaking anymore. His head was still lowered as he watched what I was doing.
“Would you like me to help with the study guides?” he asked quietly.
I would like for you to tell me what the fuck happened.
“Yes, thank you.” I left it at that. Justin didn’t need further instruction. He knew what to do. All that could be heard while we worked was the sound of papers being gathered and the stapler. Once we finished, I looked at my watch. Justin had been working in the lab with me for close to two hours, and soon the lab students would begin arriving.
“Thank you for your help today, Justin.” He nodded but didn’t speak. “You’re free to leave.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor Grant.”
As unsettled as I was about what happened, I felt better hearing him confirm that he’d see me tomorrow. And as much as I didn’t want it, he consumed my thoughts during the next four hours of labs. I tried pushing him out of my mind, though not very hard. On my way back to my office, I recalled how his shoulder felt under my hand for those brief moments … before he panicked and acted as though I had the plague. Maybe he was afraid of me. Maybe I made him uncomfortable.
The weather had turned shitty, just like my mood. I was glad I’d paid attention to the possible threat of late afternoon showers and remembered my light jacket with the hood. In the drizzle, I headed back to my office after what felt like the longest lab session of my life. I was instantly annoyed and surprised to find my office door was unlocked. I specifically told Justin to always double check to ensure he had locked my office door. Fuming, I went inside and stopped in my tracks when I saw Justin sitting at the table studying. Anger quickly subsided as both relief and concern entered my mind about why he was still here and not home.
“Justin, what are you still doing here? I thought you were going home.” I pushed my door closed to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupted.
He stood and put his pencil between his lips. Dirty thoughts made their way into my mind as I made the comment to myself about him putting wood between his lips. My cock stiffened as I imagined stretching those lips of his with my dick. Fuck. I’d love to look down into his eyes while he gagged on my girth.
Justin closed the book and notebook before putting them in his backpack and then tossed his pencil inside one of the smaller sections.
“I wanted to apologize for what happened in the lab. I couldn’t go home and leave without telling you that I’m sorry about what happened to Quincy,” Justin said while looking into my eyes.
I felt like his reaction in the lab was related to my story about Quincy. I thought that since he’d brought it up again, it meant he was possibly ready to discuss his earlier reaction.
“Thank you, Justin.” I walked to my desk and set my bag down. “Do you want to tell me what caused you to react the way you did?”
He looked like he was considering it, so I pushed him some.
“Whatever you tell me is in the strictest of confidence. It remains between us and us only.” He hadn’t retreated yet, so I pushed some more but from a different angle. “I’d like to know what happened, so I can make sure I don’t do anything to upset you like that again.”
“No, it wasn’t you.”
He pulled his backpack off the table and walked toward my desk. What is going on with this kid? I tried to be patient because he might tell me something as long as he didn’t feel rushed.
“It’s just … I feel bad about the crime… the hate crime that you and your partner were victims of. Violence is everywhere, and it’s sad.” Justin quickly closed his mouth, preventing anything further from slipping out.
Was he referring to the bullying he experienced, or maybe something else? He specifically mentioned violence, and he seemed to have a physical reaction to merely talking or hearing about it. Just when I thought he closed up and was heading back into his shell, he muttered something that gutted me and pulled me closer to him.
“We have a lot in common, Professor.”
“Violence?” I asked, to which he didn’t deny or confirm.
