Page 2 of Tops
His head turned toward her from where he stood at the whiteboard, pointing a finger in her direction, “No.”
“I,” she began, before lowering her hand. Silence stretched out as we eyed the man before us warily. I felt my cheeks redden in secondhand embarrassment.
“I have already said,” the professor started up again. His voice was stern, as if the simple attempt to ask a question ruined his hopes for the entire class’s ability. “I am about to point out some details. How you can think to ask a question before I have even begun is beyond me,” he said irritably before turning his back on the class. “I am Professor Cage. That is what you may call me.” He pointed to his name as it was written on the board. “The university no longer employs Professor Campbell, so I will be his replacement for the rest of the term. I do not regularly teach anthropology, and I was only contacted yesterday about this position.”
He turned toward the board to write out an email address. It wasn’t even a school address. This looked like a personal email address.
“This is an email account you can use to get ahold of me. For class today, I want you to email this email address, from your email address, with the subject titled ‘anthropology student’. In the main area of the text, please write your full name. Once this is completed, you may leave. I will send you an updated syllabus once I have time to figure out what I am supposed to teach you.”
He folded his arms across his chest as he turned toward us, leaning against the board. Half of the word ‘professor’ was covered. “Now, does anyone have questions?”
The room was silent as everyone looked around to see if any brave souls would raise their hands. If I had to describe my new professor with one word, I would say he was intimidating. Everything about him, from his fitted black shirt to his perfect godlike face to his commanding tone, screamed out that he was not someone to fuck with. The entire class felt the same as no one dared to ask a question or even whisper.
“Perfect,” he said, clapping his hands together, the pact somehow complete as our silence was taken as consent. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed I wasn’t the only one that jumped from the sudden noise. “Send those emails and leave. If you don’t have the internet on you, go to the library. If I don’t get an email, your attendance doesn’t count, and you missed the assignment.”
“What assignment?” A guy much closer to the front called out. I was sure he felt the eyes of everyone in class on the back of his head.
“Question time just ended. Email. Leave. See you during the next class,” Professor Cage said sharply. He strode to the desk, taking a seat before pulling out his phone.
A rumble of shuffling backpacks erupted around me as everyone grabbed their phones and laptops. Lightly clicking away before chairs screeched across the floor and students hurried out. I typed out a quick email, double-checking that I did everything exactly as he had said, before getting the hell out of there myself. This was the only in-person class I had to attend. Now it was even weirder than before.
The ice in my coffee clinked against the side of the plastic cup. At least I wouldn’t need a gallon of caffeine in the afternoons just to stay awake during class. I had a feeling Professor Cage would be able to keep everyone’s attention.
By the time Hannah returned home for dinner, I had plenty of time to rehearse the tale of my day. All of that went out the window when Hannah stumbled into the apartment crying.
“Oh God, Hannah, what happened? Are you hurt?” I rushed over to her. There wasn’t any blood or anything to suggest she was physically injured.
“I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes. Her thick eyeliner and mascara ran down her cheeks with her tears. “Some asshole mugged me after I left the club.” She sniffled before flopping down on the couch.
“Are you okay? Did you call the police?”
“I’m fine, Nessa. Stop being such a mother,” she said, waving me off with one hand while laughing. I had no idea how she could laugh after something like that, but that was how Hannah was. “I only had a couple hundred, mostly smaller bills, so it looked like a lot. I threw the money in the air and took off running. He didn’t follow, but fuck, that adrenaline crash tore me up.” She half laughed, half sobbed this time.
“Why were you even at the club so early? Your shift doesn’t start till nine,” I said, heading to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.
“I was trying to flirt with Tanner.” She gave a sheepish smile when I whipped my head in her direction, fully and intentionally armed with the mothering glare.
After pouring her a drink, I returned to the couch, making sure she could see me roll my eyes as I offered her the glass. Hannah was going to be just fine.
She gave the glass a suspicious look. “Nessa, I swear, if that doesn’t have alcohol in it, I’m going to dump it on your head.”
I yanked the glass back out of her reach. I should have just put vodka in it. Returning to the kitchen, I poured the glass of water down the drain before replacing the contents with wine.
She gave a pompous little smirk when I handed it back.
“Aren’t there security cameras around the club? And why didn’t anyone walk out with you?” I asked, coming to sit next to her on the couch.
“I wasn’t coming off shift, so I didn’t think I would need the escort. And there is no point in using the video. The quality is so terrible that we wouldn’t get a clear view of who it was.” Hannah took a large swig of the wine, not opting for manners at this time. “As far as going to the police,” she started again after thinking over the answer. “I didn’t see him. He attacked me from behind, and I ran the first chance I got. It was just a few smaller bills. I’m just going to learn from this and move forward.” In the end, her tone was mocking of my over-cautious ways.
I knew I should lighten up about a lot of things, but there had to be a line. Things that should be handled by the police shouldn’t be a hard line to establish.
“At least tell your boss it happened so they can be on the lookout. Other than not fucking his staff,” I said, giving her a teasing look. “From what you’ve told me about him, he seems to care about the wellbeing of his employees.” I gave her a look again. She called it my mothering glare, but I just thought of it as a small piece of self-preservation.
“Fine,” she groaned out after a minute-long battle of wills. I may not be able to force her to go to the police station and write a report, but talking to the man she had drooled over for the past year shouldn’t be a problem.
“Thank you,” I said sweetly as my arms wrapped around her in a hug.
She turned to whisper into my ear, “Only if you come to work with me tonight.” I could hear the damn smile in her voice.
