Chapter Five
"The rules were laid out in the syllabus and I made it clear in class. The first forty minutes of class are for the quiz and if you are not here, you get a zero. No exceptions unless you make me aware of it ahead of time, then I might show some leeway."
William, one of the three students that did not show up for the quiz last week, stares at me like I'm speaking a language he doesn't understand.
I'm not budging on this rule, especially not when his excuse was he slept through his alarm.
William, like the other two, will learn fast that they need to show up for the class they paid to attend.
"If you have any further questions, we can discuss this after class. Please take a seat."
"Whatever," William says. "It's not like this class is important anyway."
"I'm sorry that's how you feel," I say. In my head, the words are a lot more colorful.
I'm a professor, and a professional one at that.
I won't cuss out a student and risk loosing my job over a nineteen-year-old figuring out that life doesn't revolve around him.
A cough catches my attention and I turn toward the door to see Nelson walking closer.
I'm not going to evaluate how seeing him instantly puts a smile on my face and floods my mind with the memories of wearing his shirt to bed last night. "Good morning. You okay?"
"I should ask you that," Nelson says. He motions toward his own face, swirling his finger in a circle. "You had this… growl look on your face."
"Growl look?" I raise an eyebrow at him and push my chair back to stand. "I am glad I'm not your English professor."
"I scored high in English classes, thank you. My teachers loved me."
"Yeah, but that was way back in the early 1900's. Times have changed, my friend." I can't help but tease him. The jokes come naturally when it comes to the age difference between us. It's not drastic, but he made the dig about me with the infomercials, we're even now.
"You wound me," Nelson says with a flat tone. I feel a bubble of laughter rising up my throat but clear it before any noise can escape and grab the attention of the rest of the class.
I watch him for a second longer as he starts to pull out his notebook and textbook.
The other students have their laptops up and are talking amongst themselves.
I make sure the slideshow for today is ready.
We're already halfway through the first unit.
By the time class is starting, all the students have shown up.
I see William sneaking glances to the other students and avoiding my eyes for the majority of the class.
I try to keep them all engaged, asking questions to hypothetical situations so hopefully it'll help the information stick easier.
I take the last fifteen minutes to pass out the quizzes and we go over any questions regarding wrong answers or marks I made.
I give them the choice of coming up to the desk one at a time or go ahead and leave and see me during office hours.
William is the first out of the classroom and I can't say I'm sad to see him go.
As usual, the rest of the students are gone except Nelson.
I get the feeling that he much prefers the one-on-one discussion.
Standing in front of the class, I can see the eyes glancing over at him or the way that the seat beside him remains empty when most everyone else pairs up.
He answers the questions when I ask him, raises his hand to asks questions himself when I ask if anyone needs clarification.
He's a good student, but I remember grading his quiz…
It wasn't the worst, but his explanations weren't exactly what I was looking for.
"Did you have any questions?" I ask him, walking over to stand in front of his desk. All of his things are already put away, except for the quiz. It was only six questions. I marked two of them wrong and one with just a simple note.
His eyes meet mine and I can tell he's embarrassed.
He glances around and sighs. No one else is here but us.
I walk around the desk and sit in the chair beside him.
I turn his paper around and read over his answers again.
"This first one, you were on the right path.
The explanation, though, was a bit off. I wasn't entirely sure what you were saying with this line here. "
"I was trying to explain how the business motto in the question would benefit coming from the core values of the company that were listed."
"Okay, I understood that part, but what are the other components when considering a motto?" I look from the paper to him. I see his hand reach for his bag with the notebook. I cover his hand with mine, stopping him. He looks right at me. "From memory, if you can."
"Oh, uh, core values, keep it short, evoke emotion, and…" His brows furrow, creating a dip between his eyes. I give him a few more seconds before finishing the list.
"What makes your company stand out." I realize that I'm still covering his hand and I pull mine back to point to the answer he wrote.
"Right here, is where you kind of veer off.
The question is asking how you would decide the motto you picked, though, not how you would come up with it. Do you see the difference?"
"Not really?" His voice is almost meek and I have this sudden urge to pull him in for a comforting hug. I don't, but I think about it.
"For this question, the motto was already made. We weren't focusing on creating it, but rather testing to see if the public and employees liked it."
There is silence for a long moment before he sighs and places his forehead in his palm.
He's not smacking himself, but I can tell it's finally clicked and he's embarrassed.
"So my answer shouldn't have been focused on those four things, but rather on the distribution side: polls, emails, that sort of thing? "
"Exactly." I tap my finger on the paper and smile. "You weren't the only one that got tripped up on that question, which is why I gave partial credit for the answer. You displayed that you understood that part of the lesson well."
We move on to the next question and go over the information.
I give him hints, but ultimately let him get to the correct point.
I get the sense that, on top of preferring the one-on-one discussions, he does better with speaking his words than writing them.
I'll have to see how his next quiz goes before suggesting an alternative that would help.
I made the note for another student as well, but that student also doesn't participate in class nor did they stay after to ask questions.
I can only help if they show initiative.
It's thirty minutes after class when we finish talking. My stomach grumbles as soon as I stand up. I had my regular protein smoothie this morning, but nothing else. I reach into the second drawer on the left side of my desk and pull out one of the two snack bars I keep in there.
"I didn't mean to keep you so long," Nelson says as I take the first bite. I look over at him with the bar still to my lips and shake my head. I bite off the piece and wave him off.
"It's fine," I say after swallowing. "It was on me for not having a proper breakfast this morning. I'll probably order something and pick it up on my way home."
Nelson's phone starts buzzing in his hand and he looks down at it, then back up to me. "Sorry, it's my brother. I have to take this."
"No worries. I'll see you on Thursday."
"Hey, Charlie, what's up?" I don't hear anything more as he walks out of the classroom without a look back.
I take my time packing up my things. I don't really have an office outside of this classroom for the summer.
My actual office is across the campus, where the night classes are typically held.
I'm in negotiations for day classes next year, but the college is undergoing some changes and we won't know where we'll be until a couple weeks before Fall semester starts.
No one else stops by during the office hours so I grab my bag and head out.
I pull my phone out to order some Chinese at the place that's on the way to my apartment.
The parking lot is almost deserted when I walk out.
I can count the number of cars on both hands.
Mine is parked in the faculty space closest to the building.
Movement catches my eye and I see none other than Nelson still standing beside his truck.
I figured he would be gone by now. The truck is a nice one, something from the last couple years at least, but I can see where he's used the wipers to clear the dust and dirt off his windshield.
Downfall of living on a farm, I assume. He's too far for me to make out what's being said on the phone he's still holding, but when he spins around and catches me looking at him, he pauses and then says something before hanging up and starting my way.
His truck is only in the next row, so it isn't but a few strides for him.
He seems… Pissed, but in that calm way that makes it even scarier.
"Everything okay?" I ask. I unlock my own car and set my bag in the backseat.
"Can I ask you a business question? Like real life?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"If someone signs a contract to sell land, is there anything to… Void that contract or something?" I tilt my head slightly, not prepared for a question like that.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. It would depend what the laws are in the state as well as some other factors. That would be more of a lawyer question, too."
"If we had a lawyer, we probably wouldn't be in this mess.
" He mumbles the words, but he's standing close enough I can hear him clearly.
"Sorry to just throw that on you. I'm just…
Upset with my brother right now. He signed a contract with a business for what he thought was selling a portion of our farm, but it turns out he sold everything but his house. Including my house."
"Oh." Wow. I don't know what to say to that. I know he mentioned needing this class for a certification, but I didn't realize it was because he was losing his entire livelihood. "I can always take a look at it, but I'm not the lawyer of the family. I could call—"
"No, it's okay. I just wasn't sure if you knew anything. We'll… Figure something out." He sounds so dejected and the way his shoulders slump and he lets out a long sigh has me fighting the urge to reach out and comfort him.
"Do you want to go get lunch?" The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through. "I mean, I just ordered Chinese for three even though it's just me and we can go to a park or something."
"I'd love to, but I have to get back and help with the animals. I'll see you Thursday."
"See you Thursday," I say back. I can feel my ears heating with embarrassment at asking him to join me for lunch.
I get into my car and don't look toward Nelson's truck as I pull out of the parking spot and head to the exit.
The embarrassment doesn't stop me from thinking about his question.
He's about to lose everything. I wish there was something I could do, but I'm not one that deals with contracts like that.
Signing them with contractors or freelancers, I can do, but not takeovers and land deeds. That's my brother's specialty.
I pick up my food, thank the lady who now officially knows me by name, and head to the apartment like originally planned.
I turn the TV on before anything else. I pull out my laptop and bounce between eating lunch and working on the outline for the business proposal project for the summer class's final grade.
It's a limited version of the usual final project I do with my full-length semester classes.
I have to adjust to account for the time constraint, but I think it's a great way for them to put everything to practice in a practical way.
I've had a few students the last two years that I've connected with some friends back home who could help them make it a reality.
It's not even three in the afternoon when I let out the third yawn and decide to give up. A mid-day nap sounds amazing right now. I can hear my sister's words in the back of my mind as I head to the bedroom.
"Must be nice to just sleep whenever," she'd say. "I haven't been able to do that since having the baby."
I never know how to respond to her comments like that.
It isn't like I wouldn't love to have at least a kid one day, but my twenties were spent partying and once I hit twenty-eight, I realized that half of my friends were getting married or moving up in their jobs.
I was still stuck as the Boss's son that was eternally interning with the company.
I know I still have time, but I'll be thirty-one soon with no perspectives.
I know the reality around a single, gay man adopting as well.
My thoughts continue to swirl in my head as I strip down to my underwear and pull back the covers.
I immediately pick up my phone and start scrolling through the different apps.
I go between watching reels on the social apps to causally checking the dating app.
I only have the one, a newer one that released this year called Manhole.
It's similar to other apps, but I like it because it's only just gaining popularity which means not a lot of unsolicited dick pics occur.
I've had a few hits over the last week, but I haven't made any solid plans with any of them.
After dozing off and needing to watch a video for the third time, I click my phone off and set it on the nightstand. I pick up the remote to the TV and click it on before rolling over onto my stomach and kicking my leg up to form a ninety degree angle with my knee and sigh heavily.
I hear my phone ping with an incoming notification, but I'm already barreling toward unconsciousness to lift my head or arm to check it.