Chapter 2
“Professor Miller?” The sound of Tyler’s voice made me sigh. I spun away from the whiteboard to face him.
He winced. “Sorry… It’s just…”
“It’s all right. Is something tripping you up?”
His shoulders dropped. “I still don’t understand those arrow things you’re putting on top of the variables.”
Beside him, Maria tutted, setting her pencil down on top of her meticulous notes.
We were three days into the semester and I was already drowning in work. There hadn’t been time to hunt for the witchbone knife. Not when I was putting together lesson plans and teaching lectures.
But it was hard to be angry because I loved teaching. Loved sharing my knowledge. Loved seeing the moment a student’s face lit with understanding—made all the more fulfilling because of the topics I taught.
“The arrow signifies a vector,” I explained again, going into more detail about how each variable with an arrow contained both a magnitude and direction.
Tyler’s expression grew more mystified with every word.
Was it me? I gauged the other faces in my lecture hall and found a mix of reactions.
Students either nodded along or simply looked bored.
At least Tyler engaged with the material.
Freshman physics was one of my favorite courses. It’s where I discovered my love of the subject. It helped that I had great professors who brought a level of enthusiasm to the topic that could otherwise come across as dry.
And complicated.
My professors were inspiring. I wanted to be like them—help students understand the beauty in the way the universe worked.
It was simply a matter of relating the mystifying to the mundane.
I already had an entire list of demos planned to get them engaged.
Even though this was a small town community college and not a prestigious university, I was taking it seriously.
Determined to give my students the same kind of quality education they would receive at any top notch institution.
I returned to the derivation spread across the board—equations that wouldn’t make much sense to an outsider—working through the remaining kinematic equations for velocity, acceleration, and distance.
A quick glance at the clock told me I was out of time.
Somehow, it always flew by. There was never enough to get through all the material I wanted to cover.
“Okay,” I said, setting the dry erase marker back on the rack. “That’s all we have time for.”
Half my students had been waiting for this cue. The room erupted. Bags were loaded, writing supplies stowed. Seats abandoned.
“Drop by my office hours if you’re having issues with this week’s assignment.
” I lifted my voice over the din of noise.
“You’ll need to show all your work to get credit.
” Most of the students raced out of the hall, while others lingered respectfully to ensure they didn’t miss any tips.
“And please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t forget to put units on your answers!
If I get one answer for acceleration that doesn’t have meters-per-second-squared attached to it, that’s an automatic deduction! ”
“Thanks Professor Miller,” Maria called as she slung her bag over her shoulder. A few others thanked me as well before heading out.
All that was left were a few lingerers.
A small line formed. Dev Kapoor was first. He shuffled nervously as he placed a sheet of paper in front of me.
“I know you have office hours, but…” He chewed on his bottom lip.
The paper was covered in physics problems. “Could you check this really quick? Just want to make sure I’m on the right track. ”
He pointed out the problem in question. A cart speeding down a ramp. I double checked everything then sent him on his way, shuffling through the remaining students as quickly as possible.
“Yo, Professor M. You’ll be in your office at 10 tomorrow, yeah?” Sonny shouted across the hall, hesitating by the door.
“I’ll be there.”
“Great! See you then!” He grabbed his skateboard and disappeared.
I exhaled, finally alone.
For a few moments, I simply stared at the empty chairs, letting the tension leave my shoulders.
Lectures were draining but satisfying. I had already learned all my students’ names, careful to use their ID photos on their portal registration to memorize them.
First assignments had been issued and would be due in a few days. Things were off to a solid start—
The crash bar sounded as the lecture hall door opened. I jerked and looked up as an older gentlemen strode in. He had dark golden skin. His hair was a mix of salt and pepper. He carried a briefcase and looked like the very serious sort.
Like he belonged at a university and not a community college.
I glanced at the clock. Somehow I’d lost a solid ten minutes. Rushing, I reached for the eraser and set about cleaning the board.
“No need to hurry,” the man said. “I like to set up early in case my students come in before class.”
I finished and turned to him.
“Idris Najjar,” he said, setting his things down on the table before holding out his hand. I smiled and shook it.
“Rebecca Miller.”
“Ah, yes! Our newest faculty. You’re the PhD from WU, correct?”
My skin flushed. “Yep.”
“A bit overqualified, are you not? That’s not an insult,” he hastened to add. “We don’t have many Doctors of Philosophy on faculty here. Most Ph.Ds prefer to go for a post doc before teaching at universities and doing research.”
“Yeah…” I sighed. “I wanted something a little more…relaxed.”
“You could have stuck with a masters.” He lifted a brow.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. There was a lot more to it than that. Mainly, I needed to be here—in Redding.
“Suppose so.” I lifted a shoulder.
“First semester going okay?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“This isn’t your first time teaching, I assume?”
“No. I taught undergrad physics during my doctoral program. But this is my first time teaching some of the higher level courses, like atomic physics.”
“Ah. Not to fear. You’ll do great.”
“Thanks. Well, I should get going.”
“Of course. Take care. And feel free to let me know if you need anything. Adjusting to something new can be overwhelming. But we have great faculty here. Everyone is family.”
“Thank you. I… I really appreciate it.”
I grabbed my bag and slipped from the room, heading out into the daylight.
Because Redding was nestled in the Thornback Mountains, fall was almost here, despite it being early September. I took a moment to breathe. The air was the perfect temperature, warmed by the sunshine. A couple of weeks from now, the trees would start turning colors. I couldn’t wait to see that.
Actual seasons!
I made my way across the quad. It was peppered with students. Some sat at picnic tables with textbooks open. Others lounged in the grass, chit chatting. I bit my lip, nostalgia taking over.
My student days had been far more carefree.
Part of me missed that. Missed the structure of taking courses and turning in assignments.
Waiting in nervous anticipation to see test scores.
Late night cram sessions before exams. The camaraderie that came with knowing everyone else was on the same boat.
I exited campus, coming out onto Main Street. One of the great things about RCC was its location. It had been built around the town, merged in a way that made owning a vehicle completely unnecessary for me. Though I did have one, I barely used it to get around.
Striding down Main Street, I let myself take it all in. Redding looked like a postcard for every small town in existence. Having come from Walton, one of the biggest cities in the country, it promised a way of life I was completely unfamiliar with, but already falling for.
I quickened my steps until The Roost came into view, a local coffee shop I discovered my second day here. Just thirty seconds inside and it became an instant favorite. The kind of place I wanted to visit every day.
The bell jingled overhead as I stepped through the door, immediately enveloped in warmth and the rich aroma of coffee and baked goods.
There were exposed beams, mismatched furniture, and soft string lights that made it feel like someone’s cozy living room rather than a business.
I exhaled, immediately relaxing. Spotting my favorite table near the window—mercifully empty—I made my way toward it, pulling my bag over my shoulder and setting it down before heading to the counter.
Iris saw me and her face lit with a smile. She was petite, with a healthy number of piercings, and a sleeve of colorful tattoos on one arm. Her black hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she’d gone with an alluring shade of red lipstick today. “Back again?”
“You know I can’t stay away,” I teased.
“Few can. What would you like today?”
I glanced at the case. “How about one of those orange scones? And clotted cream if you have it? And I’ll do an herbal tea, since it’s a bit late in the day.”
“Sure thing. The vanilla chamomile is a good one.”
“Perfect. Let’s go with that.” I handed over my card, putting my info into the tablet on the counter and adding a tip.
“I’ll have it out to you shortly. Oh, did you get the step ladder I left on your porch?”
“Yes, it was a godsend. Thanks again.”
I needed it to hang some of my wall art. Like any good neighbor, I’d gone next door—where I’d found Iris. Turned out that she wasn’t just the barista here at The Roost. Something I was beyond grateful for.
“Great, you can just tuck it against my porch when you’re done. Take your time.”
“Will do. I appreciate it.”
I slipped back over to my table and began setting my things out, then powered on my laptop.
I had another lesson plan to create. I hoped to stay several weeks ahead, just in case I got sick.
Veteran instructors could reuse lesson plans, tailor them from year to year.
Since this was my first year with my own courses, it was going to be a lot harder.