Page 45 of The Professor
Where the hell is this going? I don’t say anything, just lift an eyebrow.
“I know she’s supposed to apply for internships and I also know she hasn’t. She has this fear of rejection or something. I know it’s not my place to ever ask this of you, but being her best friend I’m doing it anyway. I can’t say it to her because she’ll get pissed, but maybe if you talk to her about them she’ll do it,” she says with a wicked grin.
Fuck. I really am an asshole. She didn’t tell Aubrey anything, but I was ready to have it out with her.
“I’ve already spoken to her about it. I’ll make sure she gets it done, don’t worry,” I say, forcing a smile.
She gives me a lopsided grin as she looks me up and down. “You really are a good guy, Professor Grayson. I don’t know if you realize how much Emma actually likes you.”
This girl is brazen as hell. I know exactly what she’s getting at, but I will continue to act as if I don’t.
“I do know and I’m very fond of her as my student.” I check my watch and glance up at her. “You’re a good friend Aubrey, you really are, but don’t worry about Emma she’s smart enough to know what the right thing to do is. Now you better head to class before you get trampled by my excited students,” I say with a genuine laugh.
She looks around quickly and steps closer to me. “It was you wasn’t it?” She asks with a laugh.
I know exactly what she’s talking about and it’s difficult not to laugh, but I’m good at hiding my emotions.
“What was me?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Laughing she turns walking away. Peeking over her shoulder she gives me a Goddamn wink. “I’ll never say a word.”
Fucking Christ. What the hell is happening today?
* * *
The day has draggedon and the longer it feels, the more annoyed I get. My class before lunch with Professor Erickson is almost over and the dread of this meeting is front and center.
“Before you leave, are there any questions?” I ask, looking around the room.
They are all in a rush, which I can’t say I blame them today, but even if they had a question I don’t think anyone would ask. I dismiss them and sit down for a minute. I need to get my head clear before I go to this meeting.
If I’m being honest, I’ve been this way since Emma tried analyzing me yesterday. She was spot on and it pissed me off because it’s not something I want anyone to know, especially her. I said some nasty shit to her, but I didn’t want to deal with what she said. I don’t think I ever will. It’s easier to keep everyone at arm's length. The thing is, when I wrapped my arms around her, I didn’t want to let go. For a second, just the slightest second, I wanted to tell her everything. It’s got me all fucked up, which has lead to this amazing day.
Resting my head in my hands, I blow out a breath. I just need to get today over with. These feelings will bury themselves like always. Nodding my tired head in agreement with myself, I get up, shoving my cell phone in my pocket.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” I mumble to myself.
Knocking on Professor Erickson’s door, he hollers to come in. I do and I’m hit in the face with the smell of fried food. It’s not that good smell either, it’s that burnt oil smell. Looks like I’m skipping lunch today too.
“Professor Grayson, I appreciate you meeting me. Please help yourself,” he says, waving to all the fried food on his desk.
My stomach turns, as I take a seat. “I’m good, thanks. So what’s up?”
Let’s just cut to the chase because maybe this way I can go get some real food that won’t have me gagging.
“A few weeks ago you were named as a person who was a part of the beating of a young man at a frat party. I need to know what happened and why you are partying with these students,” he says, biting into a piece of grease covered chicken.
That little prick. I’m going to kick his ass myself. He’s trying to play the victim here and I’m curious to know how he even knew that I was there. He didn’t see me nor was I ever in that frat house.
“That’s not exactly how it went,” I begin.
I tell him everything that happened, minus the fact I stayed at Emma’s for hours. I lead him to believe that I just carried her to the dorm and stood in the hallway as I talked to my friend about what to do. I’m not sure he believes me and the longer I sit here trying to explain myself the more pissed off I’m getting.
“Well, that’s not the story we’ve heard,” he says, lifting a graying eyebrow.
Resting my arms on his desk, I lean a bit closer. “With all due respect Professor, Trent and I were the adults in the situation. We handled it as any adult would, we found out what happened and took care of the girl who needed it. I didn’t give a shit that night and I don’t give a shit now what happened to a guy that drugged this girl. I didn’t lay a hand on him because honestly if I had, this conversation would be you asking me where I hid the body.”
My blood is boiling. These assholes only give a shit how this university looks on the outside looking in. They don’t care what happens to these students. Which is why they can be paid off or fucked and easily turn the other cheek. No one is held responsible for their actions and for me to be questioned about helping a student in need, a student that I happen to have a special relationship with, fuck them.
