8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Frankie
F rankie continued to ride the high of passing her family law midterm all the way to her assigned seat.
Earlier that morning, she’d shrieked and squealed so loudly that Todd had come thundering out of his room wielding a massive platform shoe. Upon hearing her fantastic news, he’d patted her head.
“We’ll celebrate later,” he’d groaned through a yawn and slogged back to bed.
The classroom buzzed uncharacteristically with chatter and excitement, most likely resulting from the receipt of exam results. She made her way to her seat, front and center, noticing there weren’t as many students there as usual. She wondered if it had something to do with the exam scores. Perhaps some people took today off to celebrate. More likely, those who hadn’t secured a passing grade made the decision not to show.
Settling in and glancing up to the front of the class, Frankie noticed that one person was most definitely missing. Professor Clark. He was always there when she arrived. It didn’t matter if she was five or fifteen minutes early. He managed to beat her there every time. Mean mugging her as she walked to her seat. She typically felt it like a flame on her neck. And every class session his pointed glower made her tingle uneasily. But today . . . no glaring. No professor. Two minutes ’til class.
Hmm . . . curious .
Frankie skimmed through the highlighted sections of her notes.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Professor Clark strode into the lecture hall.
No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He normally strode around with an air of contemptuous confidence. But not today. Today, he sort of scrambled to the lectern. His typically impeccable grooming not quite meeting its usual muster. He wasn’t wearing a blazer, but instead only his white dress shirt with a few splatters of what looked like chocolate milk across his left shoulder. His top two buttons were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, powerful forearms. His hair fell about his forehead like he had been running his hands through it all morning. And instead of his briefcase slung over a shoulder, he gripped it to his chest with both arms, a few pieces of paper sticking out of the unzipped top.
He looked caught off guard.
He looked stressed.
He looked like someone else completely.
As he did his best to settle at the head of the classroom, Frankie wondered what had happened to throw him off that morning. She bit her lip, fighting the prideful grin spreading across her face. Maybe he was upset that she'd passed. He clearly disliked her and would have rejoiced if she'd failed out. That was probably it. Ha! She sat up a little straighter and prepared herself. There was no doubt that he was going to come at her with all his might this session.
But she was ready.
“Bring it on, Professor Prick,” she murmured under her breath.
Clark started class six minutes late. After offering a brief apology, he proceeded with his lecture. Soon, he began calling on students as he went. When he finally came to Frankie, she was shocked that the question he asked was a gimme—something so easily answered with a yes or no. After she successfully responded, he moved on to the next person. He didn’t call on her again for the remainder of class.
Frankie felt torn. On the one hand, she should be relieved that she made it through another class without the wrath of Professor Clark coming down on her. But on the other hand, she almost felt snubbed. Excluded.
Once dismissed, she packed up her belongings and waited yet again for everyone to depart before she approached the abnormally disheveled Professor.
This is a bad idea. What am I doing? Just leave and count the class as a win.
“Excuse me, Professor Clark,” Frankie said tentatively.
He sighed the sigh of an exasperated man. “Miss Miller?”
She didn’t really know how to proceed. Did she ask about being skipped over in class? Did she ask if anything was wrong? Would that be crossing a boundary? She chewed on her lip for a moment, deciding what to do.
“Miss Miller, was there something you needed, or are you just trying to delay me for fun?” he asked, clenching his jaw, sapphire eyes aflame.
Her heart sped up, and she felt the heat climb from her neck to her cheeks. “Sorry, never mind.”
He grunted and gave a curt nod before returning to his papers.
Frankie turned to scurry out of the classroom, but something stopped her. She faced him once again, now about ten feet away. “It’s just . . .” She paused again. Why couldn’t she get her mouth to work?
“What, Francesca ?” Not quite a yell, her name boomed out of his mouth, affecting Frankie low in her belly. Professor Clark must have recognized his dropping of typical formality because his eyes widened. He cleared his throat and neutralized his expression. “Apologies. What is it, Miss Miller?”
Taking a shallow breath, she was overcome with a wave of bravery. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Professor Clark’s mouth flopped open for a second before he remembered himself and snapped it shut. He stood a little taller and straightened his shoulders as he turned to face her. His hands settled on his hips, elbow jutting out to the sides. “I am sure I don’t know what you are referring to. I’m perfectly fine.”
Everything inside Frankie urged her to accept his words and leave. But something held her. He attempted to maintain his usual composure, but a flicker in his eyes belied his efforts.
“It’s just that you’re not quite yourself today. You showed up late and seemed a little stressed. Frazzled even. You also didn’t call on me for anything other than one super easy question.” She was undeterred by his scoff. “And you aren’t dressed as you usually do. All signs point to there being something wrong, and I thought I would ask if you were all right.”
His expression softened for a flickering instant before he donned his usual irritated-yet-bored professor mask.
“Your concern is unnecessary, Miss Miller. There is no need to play social worker with me. I assure you I can manage my own life perfectly fine without your support .” His tone felt more brusque than usual, almost snide.
Frankie recoiled as though being punched. She was attempting to be a decent human, one who wasn’t wrapped up in the celebration of making it through an easy class session. Her chosen career path had nothing to do with her concern. Though to him, all bleeding hearts probably looked alike.
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“And worry not; since you found today’s session so easy, I will be sure to increase the difficulty of my questions when you return from Thanksgiving break. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another class starting shortly.”
He gathered his briefcase and papers in his arms and brushed past her. As he strode from the room, he left Francesca wondering if she should have just kept her big mouth shut.