Page 30 of Drama Queen

“Not at all,” I say, gesturing to the seat across from me, whilst gathering my textbooks, which are currently spread all over the table.

“I believe you were in my Crim101 class this morning,” he says after sitting.

“Good eye for detail, Mr Cleave,” I respond, though I am pretty surprised he noticed me, given the gaggle of almost exclusively female students who rushed him after class on the pretence of very important questions regarding the course material.

“Anders, please.”

“Alright. Anders.”

“And you are...?” he says, drawing out the question.

“Aria Davies.”

“Tell me, Aria, what is your particular field of interest? Future plans to be a barrister, or maybe a judge?”

“I am doing a double law and political science degree, but my path will be more down the corporate path and governance,” I say.

“Sensible and steady. I wouldn’t have picked it.”

“And what would you have guessed, Mr Cleave?” I drawl, narrowing my eyes slightly and raising an eyebrow at his comment.

“So, she has a little fire in there.” He smirks at my heated response. “We could make a defence lawyer out of you yet.”

“Yes, she does,” I snark back. “And what about you, Mr Cleave? Big plans to become a mob lawyer?”

“Touché.” He chuckles. The sound is so delicious I find my temper banking immediately. “I enjoy criminal law,” he says, “but my passion also lies more towards politics. So, with your double being right in my wheelhouse, let me know if you need a tutor.”

I can’t tell if that was a line, or a genuine offer to help.

“Seriously, here is my number,” he says, handing me a card he pulls out of his pants pocket. “Text or call me if you want to set up a time.”

“Will you charge me by the hour?” I joke.

“We bill in six-minute units, actually. But if you buy the coffee, we can call it square,” he says with a wink, getting up to leave.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were flirting with me, Mr Cleave,” I say with a smirk, running my finger along the edge of the business card in what I hope is a semi-seductive way.

“Anders. And it’s a good thing you don’t know any better, Aria. I look forward to hearing from you,” he says, nodding towards the card.

Shit. I think he was flirting. A slow smile spreads across my face at the thought. Not bad for a first day!

Looking at the time on my phone, I decide to head up to Mum’s work, knowing there is no point in trying to get back to my studying after that little interaction. I quickly gulp down the remainder of my latte, then gather up my belongings and head out, running through our conversation word for word on repeat.

Hewasflirting, and I am definitely not mad about it,butthere is absolutely no way I am telling Mum. Sure, she has let me “date” before. I was allowed to have boys over at the house. In my room, even. But only if she was at home, and only if she knew them, their parents, their grandparents, their standing in society, their shoe sizes, their grades, their bathroom schedule... okay, maybe I am exaggerating a little, but not much.

I can, however, tell you one thing that you could take to the bank: my mother would absolutely have a fucking coronary if she knew I wanted to bang my teacher!

With my mind firmly made up that I will be downplaying my interaction with the TA, who will strictly be referred to as Mr Cleave, I walk into Mum’s building a few minutes later. It is pretty impressive. The unusual rectangle-shaped glass atrium at the front is only a single storey high, with the rest of the multi-storey building behind it, giving it the illusion of being further set back from the road.

I walk up to the directory inside the entranceway, and note several businesses, including a law firm, housed on the various floors. There is also a gym, pool, and wellness spa on site. Not bad.

Heading up in the elevator to the third floor, I step out when the doors open to a reception area. Once I give my name to the kind-faced older lady behind the desk, she picks up the phone and gestures to the sitting area off to the side. I don’t even get the chance to sit before Mum comes rushing out from the secured door behind the reception desk.

“Thank you, Eva,” she says to the receptionist. “This is my daughter, Aria. She’s doing a double law and politics degree down the road at UniSA, so you will probably be seeing a bit of her.”

“Mum, you don’t need to tell everyone what I am studying.”

“Of course she does,” says Eva with a smile. “Your mumma has every right to be proud and tell the whole world just how smart her baby girl is.”

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