11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Elijah
R ebecca. Her fucking name is Rebecca, Bex for short. How could I be so stupid to not put that together? I mean, it’s not like I knew her last name, but at no point did I even consider that the Rebecca in my class could possibly be Bex.
For a smart man, she makes me awfully stupid.
How is she only nineteen? She carries herself like she’s at least in her twenties. It’s not like my sisters are immature, that life hasn’t calloused the edges of their souls. But Bex seemed so sure of herself.
Even Liv, my daring, no-nonsense, take-on-the-world littlest sister was unsteady on her feet at nineteen.
And the way she talked to me. No nervousness about her, calling me out like it was nothing. I’m nearly twice her age, yet she spoke to me like we were equals.
How am I supposed to focus knowing she’s in my class? I could barely give anything my full attention when she was no more than a haunting memory.
No, this won’t do. Not at all. Maybe I can convince her to drop the class, to take it with another professor. I’m not the only one who teaches this class. Though, that will require talking to her one-on-one again. I’m not going to go out of my way to make the class something different just so she leaves. Not only is that not worth my time, but it's a disservice to the other students.
It’s not like I can just bite the bullet a few times over the course of the semester and move on. This class will be three times a week. If it was one of the longer, once-a-week classes, I’d find a way to get by, ensuring that I busied myself in teaching.
I’m so fucking fucked.
I’m jittery as I prepare for my next class in front of Bex. I’m never anything but collected. Part of it is excitement to see her again, also mixed with a touch of fear that she dropped the class. I’ve checked my roster every day to see, but it’s not always up to date.
Neither of these are things I should be feeling. Not for a girl her age, and definitely not for a student. This is a predicament I never expected to find myself in. I’d always sworn off younger women. Liv’s best friend Kylee has been in love with me for years. I pretend I don’t know; pretend I don’t notice the doe eyes when I’m near her. The reality is, I’d never date anybody that much younger than me. The idea is ludicrous.
Today’s the first real dive into the economics course. Monday was a quick hi, here’s the breakdown . But today, the real work starts, and I don’t go light.
Economics can be a tricky bitch. There are topics some believe go against common thought. Your math skills need to be strong to keep up. Most of all, I’m not here to hold anyone's hand. Pay attention, review your notes, study, and ask questions in class. While I offer office hours, it’s mostly because it’s forced by the school, not by choice.
Thankfully, it’s rare for my students to take advantage. The same can’t be said for the other economics teachers.
While this is mostly an introductory class, it’s still major specific. It’s not a common prerequisite math course. The students taking this class are math or business majors and need what I teach them to help them be successful in their future endeavors, whatever those may be.
What could Bex’s major be? Nope. Don’t go there, Eli.
I have to be focused on teaching, despite the fact that I know this stuff like the back of my hand and could literally run class in my sleep. A year off couldn’t have thrown me off my game that much.
No, the biggest issue is going to be that I absolutely cannot make eye contact with Bex. The second I lock in onto those jade eyes, I’m going to get lost in the forest of their warmth.
“Snap out of it, Eli. She’s too young for you. Younger than Liv is just…too young.” I give my head a quick shake and grumble to myself as I close my desk drawers, grabbing what I need from my desk and heading toward the classroom.
By now, every student should have the textbooks I require. Not that I teach out of them, but they have good information for studying from and writing papers with. My notes are the most precise, since I test them on what I teach , but not everyone learns the same way.
Some teachers make it easy for their students and put their notes on a Google Drive that all students in their classes have access to. I do the same, however, mine are just brief bullet points or slides. The real notes will only be received in class, by listening and paying attention.
It wasn’t all that long ago that I was the college student, even less time that my sisters were. I know the tricks, what people do to avoid having to get up and actually attend class. And if the notes are readily available, they’re far less likely to show up.
A crash down the hall has me leaping out of my skin. Halting in my tracks, I cover my eyes with my hand and press my back against the wall, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart.
It’s one of the things I’ve been working on in therapy. Right after the shooting, I practically fell apart at every loud noise, especially any bangs. Things were going well for a while. Then I moved out of Liv’s after three months.
I never intended to stay that long, but at first, she wouldn’t let me leave. Then I couldn’t get myself to. Jordanna helped my mood a lot in those days. But I got tired of being a burden, even though Liv and Jameson assured me I wasn’t. I just couldn’t shake the feeling, and when discussing with my therapist, Leo, he thought it was a good idea to move back to my apartment anyway.
So, I did.
And I immediately regretted it. I forgot how fucking loud apartments are. Hearing doors slam, the people above you stomping around, it’s enough to make anyone crazy. I barely slept that first week home.
While it got better over time, nothing has truly made it go away. And Leo warned me that starting back at school may bring everything back to a heightened level. Not only because of the noises, but because of the location. He was pleasantly surprised to hear at our session yesterday that I made it through my first two days.
Students mill about, and I’m brought back to reality. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here trying to regain my center, but the building was mostly empty when I started my trek to the classroom.
Either because of my pause, or because the universe just needs to fuck with me a little bit more, I end up going to enter at the same time as Bex.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, looking at her feet and adjusting the strap on her bag.
“My fault. Ladies first.” I extend my hand into the room. Shit. Did she see me having a moment? Did anyone? For some reason, I worry more about her seeing me than anyone else.
Without looking up, she passes in front of me and into one of the rows.
And while I thought it would be better if she didn’t look my way, now I know I was a fool. Because even though she didn’t so much as spare me a glance, all I can see are her deep green eyes as coconut wafts through my nose.
No, it doesn’t matter if Bex looks at me or not. Just her mere existence fucks me up.
And unfortunately, that just won’t do.