Chapter Twenty-Three Maddie
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maddie
The department meeting is mostly a snoozefest except for when someone shows an animated video of the Oval Office recording of Lyndon B.
Johnson ordering custom pants from the Haggar clothing company.
* Dr. Wallace comes in among the laughter and is immediately cross.
He huffs as he sits down and I wonder if he is angered by joy in general or just being left out of it.
At the end of the meeting, Miranda opens the floor for any comments or concerns.
It takes three other professors voicing their issues and then her calling twice more for any last topics of discussion before I finally manage to raise my hand.
She offers me a warm smile and nods her head as the rest of the department faculty turn to me, several of whom I’m sure had mistaken me for a student up until now.
“Hi, yes, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m the new adjunct, Madelyn Kowalczk.
I just wanted some clarification on lecture hall etiquette.
I’m so new to teaching, but I wanted to confirm whether or not it’s appropriate for another professor to enter my classroom and attempt to prepare for their lecture when my class is still finishing? ”
Salazar laughs and there are a few knowing smirks around the table.
“I would say that goes beyond etiquette into just simply rude. So yes, please let’s be mindful of our fellow professors and their time,” she says to the group at large before she looks at me and her gaze briefly slides to Dr. Wallace, who is fuming.
“Ms. Kowalczk, if this problem persists, please seek me out so that we can mediate the issue with the professor in question.”
I nod sweetly and ignore the angry daggers that Dr. Wallace is staring in my direction.
Once we are dismissed, I gather my belongings and circle around the table to where Miranda is packing up the contents of her folio.
“Good job,” she says. “Professional. Polite. But public. You made a statement without crossing a line.” She gives me a neutral look. “It was more professional and polite than calling a student a stale doughnut, for example.”
I wince.
“I’ve made a note about this in your evaluation file.
You’re young and you’re new to this, but that’s no excuse for being unprofessional in my department.
” Her voice is frank but level, and her gaze holds the kind of directness that is almost comforting.
Yes, this is a verbal reprimand, but I’m being given my feedback like an adult, like I can handle it.
I straighten my shoulders a little, pulling in a breath. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
She studies me a moment and then gives me a small smile. “I appreciate the apology, and also I’ve heard you’ve made strides in your classroom presence in the last few weeks.”
“You have?”
“You certainly impressed Veronica. She’s ready to stick a flag pin on you and drag you up and down the district.”
Miranda leans back against the table, her arms crossed over her chest. Today she wears a leopard-print pencil skirt and yellow blouse with stiletto ankle boots.
I’ve never been to New Jersey, but based on the PhD-research levels of reality TV I’ve consumed, I’d say she’s representing her home state well.
“Miranda, I’m honored that you thought to mention me to her, but isn’t it sort of counterproductive to give up one of your adjuncts when the department is so thinly staffed?
Not to mention, how do you even know I’m fit to run?
” Suddenly I remember that I am not wearing underwear.
I am not wearing underwear and I’m having an important conversation with the chair of my department. Oh god.
No, I tell myself. Maddie, mentally, you are wearing underwear. You are wearing underwear, goddamnit.
She leans in, her neutral expression now conspiratorial.
“First off, your contract as a lecturer is only through May, which is when the primary is. Perfect timing if you ask me. And academia will always be here, Maddie. Whether it’s Astra or someplace else, if you decide that this is what you’re meant to do, there will always be young, fresh-faced students for you to educate.
And don’t tell the career academics I said so, but sometimes you gotta get out there and have some real-life experience if you want to bring anything of value back to the classroom. ”
“And second?” She’s not wrong about real-life experience, and I like teaching. I do. But I can’t see it being the only thing I do for the rest of my life. I do, however, like the idea of it being something I sometimes return to. A place I can always revisit.
“And second, I don’t know that you are fit to run.
But there’s no way to know until you do it.
I can say that you’re fiery as hell and if what you just did in this meeting showed me anything, it’s that you’re just the sort of person that could shake up the old guard without triggering a multi-person cardiac event.
You know your way around politics, Maddie. That’s obvious.”
“I’ve heard that Veronica Balentine is a little bit . . .”
“Ruthless?” she asks. “I went to law school with Veronica. Well, technically, for a year. She dropped out once she realized what she wanted to do and that she didn’t need to throw a ton of money at a piece of paper to make it happen.
And yes, she is ruthless. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t good at what she does. ”
“Ruthlessness doesn’t scare me.”
“Good.” She pushes off from the table and holds her portfolio to her chest. “Don’t tell Veronica I said so—and if you do, I will lie—but she’s not just good at her job. She’s actually just plain old good too. Very, very deep down.” She pats my shoulder as she steps past me toward the door.
Feeling relieved that Miranda trusted me to grow from doughnut-gate and a little smug that she saw political potential in me, I head back to the adjunct office for my coat before I head out for the day.
Dr. Wallace steps into stride with me and then in front of me, blocking my path. “Young lady,” he says.
“You can go to Dr. Salazar with that, Dr. Wallace,” I tell him, my tone never anything but polite.
He stammers for a moment, eyes wide and bulging. “Perhaps if you have a problem with me, you can address me directly and privately.”
“Oh,” I say, “I have, but I fear you have missed the point, sir, so please hear me when I explicitly say: You are not welcome to interrupt my class and undermine my authority. You may wait in the hallway until I am through. You will not speak over me, especially in front of a student, and you will not ever again in your life refer to me or anyone else as young lady. I’m sure that you woke up one day and realized the world had changed and that people who you had always thought beneath you were suddenly your peers and in some cases even your superiors.
So here’s a little advice for you: Evolve or go extinct. You decide.”
The man vibrates with anger, but something behind his eyes changes. Guilt? Fear? Whatever it is, it’s not my problem.
“Have a lovely day, Dr. Wallace,” I practically sing as I spin on my heel. My body is charging with energy as I leave the old man speechless.
God, that felt so good. It felt so right!
My thighs press together as I remember Bram encouraging me and then pushing his come back inside me and sending me to stand up for myself with my panties stuffed in the pocket of his seemingly innocuous corduroy pants. Wow, we are a fucked-up little pair, and it really, really works for me.
After getting my coat, I march over to Gerhart Hall and straight into Bram’s office, where a young man is trying to engage him in flat earth theories.
Bram looks directly over his head and right at me. “Corbin, email me those links and we can discuss after my next lecture.”
The kid stands up and gathers his backpack as he looks me up and down and grumbles something about open office hours.
I slam the door shut behind him. “Is that kid really a flat earther?”
Bram shakes his head as he stands. “No, not seriously, at least. He just likes conspiracy theories. Last week, he tried to tell me birds aren’t real.”
“Do you know what is real?” I ask.
“What?”
“The way I told Dr. Wallace to fuck off.”
Bram’s plump lips split into a proud, beaming smile and the warm feeling he’d left in the pit of my stomach spreads to every inch of my body like sunshine after days of gray overcast.
He stands from behind his desk and takes my panties from his pocket. “I guess I owe you these.”
I close my hand around his fist—well, as far as it will go, at least—and then stuff it right back into his pocket. “I rather like the idea of you keeping them.”
The noise he makes is an approving rumble as he dips his head to kiss me, his arm curling around my waist until our bodies are pressed together. I try not to think too hard about how well we fit.