Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Heads were drooping with every word. This happened often in Laufeyson’s English 201 class. I think he enjoyed it, though, because he’d always start to read poetry towards the ending of class. I found it transfixing, not sleep-inducing. It was obvious he felt passionately towards his craft. He was always seen with a book when not in class, or a pencil tucked behind his ear to write with. The man knew his niche and stuck with it.

I had an advantage to look at him from my position in the third row. Not an unpleasant sight, as many women in the class — and men — had already whispered in gossip in the halls outside of the classroom. He had that charming effect on everyone. I sometimes wondered if he were perhaps born that way, coming right out of the womb with a polite greeting and a smile. His parents were lucky.

Okay, I lied. I WAS getting tired, but not just because of his voice. It had been many days since my last full night of sleep. I knew many college kids had the same problem as me, but unlike them, I had no idea why it was happening. Insomnia, maybe. That was most likely the case. It felt like I couldn’t shut my brain off. Something always kept me awake, like the glowing blue light from a power switch or the cricket that sang loudly outside of my apartment window.

Nevertheless, I persisted. I was going to listen to the soft melody of prose like the pretentious Lit major that I was.

Class eventually ended and I was one step closer to death. I could barely walk straight. I headed for the door but was stopped by a tap on the shoulder before I could leave. “Excuse me. Could we have a word?” Prof Laufeyson gave me a tight-lipped but well-meaning smile. I complied, but only because he was, well, himself. He situated himself at his desk, leafing through a packet of papers. He pulled out the one with my name on it. “Your rough draft was only half done. Can you tell me why?”

See, for our final, we had to write a 15-page paper about an author’s writing style we found similar to our own. I had barely managed to write half of the rough draft even though it didn’t require as many pages. I couldn’t muster an explanation as to why. I just didn’t do it.

He looked at me for a while, eyes flickering back and forth as if studying me. He let out a small sigh and averted his gaze. “I expected more from my top student.”

I almost burst into tears. Letting down your parents was one thing. And it was something that happened a lot for me. But letting down your favorite professor, someone you’d admired since before enrolling, was on an entirely different level. On a different planet. I wasn’t trying to over-dramatize in my head, but this was my major. He was my advisor. I’d be seeing his face nearly every semester. He was the last person I’d expect to give me the ‘work harder’ bullshit speech. But there he was, talking to me, gesturing to my paper, as I tuned him out in my head. I nodded along politely until he was done.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the glassed-over look in my eyes. Nothing was affecting me. I gave half-hearted goodbyes and strode out of the classroom with the last of my dignity. 

I decided to cruise by my apartment to reorganize myself before the next class began. My room was a glorious place of disarray and intrigue. The bed, though, looked so delicious at the moment. Taking a few steps, I felt a pinprick feeling in my head. Before I could make it to the mattress, I fell against the side and hit my head.

Several hours flew by before I could pry my eyes open again. Bright light emanated from my phone screen as I clicked it on. Three urgent texts and an email. I decided to check my texts from my roommate first.

Her: where are you??

Her: collins is going over notes for the final

Her: b it ch

I audibly groaned. There was no use replying as late as it was. Next, I had to check my emails to see if I’d possibly been kicked out of my biology course. Surprisingly, though, it wasn’t from Collins. It was from Laufeyson.

Hello —

I hope this email finds you in good health, as I noticed you weren’t feeling too keen in my class. I want to stress that I did not intend any malice in what I said regarding your paper, but now realize I came off quite strongly. Please note that it has no affect on your final grade, as it is only graded for completion. We all have our less competent moments, but don’t let that stop you from achieving the potential I’ve seen you reach.

I’ve attached some extra resources to help you along. If I can help in any way, feel free to email me any time.

Best Regards,

Dr. L

His message was reassuring, to say the least. I no longer felt like crying.

I started typing out a reply.

dr. laufeyson,

thank you so much for that hopeful message. i don’t think you should place so much faith in me, though. but that’s just who you are. an incredible man. incredible, caring, patient man. sometimes, just to find solace in my sleepless bed, i think about you reading thomas hood poems to me in that low rumble of yours. i wish you were here with me right now. maybe then everything would be ok.

all my love,

xx

Just to be clear, I didn’t send that. I left it as a draft. Sometimes I’d write out an email draft to use it as a diary. It was a great venting mechanism. I decided to write a real reply in gratitude.

Dr. Laufeyson,

I appreciate your concern. It was an off-day, which, unfortunately, happen to all of us nearing finals. Don’t worry about my paper. You know I’ve got this.

Thanks.

My phone pinged with confirmation that it had sent and I collapsed onto my bed with a sigh. I wasn’t going to get any sleep after that, of course, but I could lay in silence and daydream. Dinnertime rolled around soon and I had still not moved. Luckily, I’d stashed some stuff under my bed, and after few minutes of eating, I was staring up at the ceiling again, arms and legs locked. Nighttime was going to be worse than I anticipated.

Class rolled around again sooner than I could process. It was weird. Most of my memories were patchy blackness and I could hardly differentiate my conscious from unconscious thought. After analyzing articles in a group discussion for an hour, Dr. Laufeyson pulled up a poem all too familiar and explained how we were going to tie it into the lesson. I didn’t think it had anything to do with what we were studying, but whatever, just another excuse for him, I guess.

“I love thee. I love thee.”

Oh, shit. This had to be some kind of prank. He couldn’t read my email drafts, could he?

He stared at me with those hard eyes set behind a broad brow bone. “It is my vision in the night, my dreaming in the day.” I watched him slide off the front of the desk where he’d sat and stepped forward towards the rows of seats.

His voice seemed to get more urgent, more loud, as he progressed in the reading. “Thy bright hazel glance, the mellow lute upon those lips…”

I was heading into cardiac arrest as he braved the steps, slowing ever so slightly near my row to lean in, lips almost grazing my ear. The last ‘I love thee’ barely escaped his mouth as I shot up from my desk. Oh, it hurt. The sunlight, the tiredness in my mouth… That was more vivid and revealing than I’d hoped.

Laughter quietly echoed around me as I noticed a certain professor’s eyes on me and the drool slightly cascading down my chin. I wiped at my mouth profusely. He had a sly grin on his face that made me slightly uncomfortable.

“You know the rules about following asleep during a lecture, dear. Please join me up here.”

Sometimes I thought that Loki Laufeyson was truly an evil person. Mostly because he made people who fell asleep in only the first hour stand and guide the group discussion. He had no problem with putting us to sleep five minutes before the end of class, though. That’s what made him truly evil. I guess I was an easy target lately. I could’ve sworn he’d apologized to ME yesterday, though…

It took most of my energy to even stand. The knot on my head from falling against my metal bedframe throbbed, causing my eye to twitch as well. I was pretty sure black dots were going to form in my vision soon.

The words on the projector screen wavered. I’d never seen so many in my entire life. I started to dictate, then, after the first few sentences, I stumbled back. The back of my knees hit the corner of his desk, causing my legs to fold like toothpicks. Dr. Laufeyson reached out to help, but couldn’t grab me before I hit the floor, marking the third blackout in two days.

Chapter Text

I didn’t want to wake up. Whatever room I was in was warm and noiseless. A light shined over my eyelids and prompted me to open them. The campus nurse was looking at me from above, the harsh overhead lamp creating a halo around her stray hairs.

Oh fuck. Everyone saw, then. How embarrassing. Especially since he was there. I took a few moments to shake off the disorientation. How’d I get in the wellness center? As I came back to earth, I was handed a glass of water and a grainy pill.

“You had quite a fall there,” said the nurse, crooning. “You need to take more vitamins. And get more rest. Do these episodes happen often?” Her questions didn’t really stick to my brain. She realized how overwhelming it all was and started over. “Dr. Laufeyson called us down there. Said you’d fallen.”

I provided a simple “yep” as I struggled to sit up. The pill scratched my throat all the way down. “Is he…”

“He said he had a class soon,” she replied, taking the water from me. “But that he’d be back to check on you as soon as it was over.”

I groaned and stuffed my face into the pillow. All I wanted right now was to sleep forever and never go to class again. The nurse, however, had different plans. She went out of the room and returned with a big bottle of pills. “Sleeping pills. I suggest take two of them every night. I’ll start you off for now, but I went ahead and scheduled you with Dr. Moran to get an actual prescription.” She shook out two and gave them to me. “Take these tonight and check in with me after class.”

The clock by the bed turned 4. So I’d been asleep for about three hours. Great, I missed Bio again. Collins was definitely gonna kick my ass. I fumbled around for my phone and shot a quick text to my roommate, filling her in on how much of a disaster I was.

Her: but at least you have loki to be your knight in shining armor ;)

Me: i don’t need a knight, thank u very much

Her: independent queen

As soon as I set my phone down, Dr. Laufeyson strode in. His tie was askew. Almost as if he ran here.

“Sorry,” he huffed, catching his breath in the doorframe. “What happened? Are you quite alright?” He pushed his dark hair behind his ears and straightened his tie. “You haven’t been acting your usual self lately.”

His concern really touched my heart, but I couldn’t let him down. “Everything’s fine. I think I had low blood sugar.”

The look of protectiveness didn’t leave his face as he approached. “You may want to see a doctor. It seems to be affecting your coursework, and this class is imperative for your major.”

I averted my eyes, daunted by his proximity. “I will,” I vowed, saying it truthfully. I wouldn’t let this lack of sleep or anxiety rule my life. This class was important to me. Not just for the degree, but because I was good at it. I was passionate about writing, and I wanted to be able to prove that to him. I slid down to the floor, fumbled around for my shoes, and slid them on. “Thank you, Dr. L. It means a lot that you took notice.”

“Of course.” He gave a patient smile. “I’m always here if you need me.”

For the rest of the week, that’s all that echoed in my head. I’m always here if you need me.

Chapter Text

My school life was going smoothly from then on. I got back on top of my Bio homework, I had a good chunk of my final essay written, and I socialized my little heart out. During the day, I kept busy so whatever it was that was controlling my brain would be at the bottom rung of the latter. At night, I took two pills and conked out until morning. It was a great routine.

Lunch became a huge deal in my friend group. Me, my roomie, some guys from the track team, and a couple others gathered in the dining hall or some other hotspot to hang out for an hour and a half. Today was a dining hall day.

Somehow, we all got on the topic of our English 201 class. I, naturally, was fine-tuned to the conversation — but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I stayed silent.

“Man, that class is a bitch,” said Sid, a huge athlete, eloquently. “Coach says if I get a D, I’ll be off the team.” A couple of other kids nodded along with him. My stomach churned. I didn’t like where this was heading.

My roommate added to the conversation. “And Dr. L is like, super weird. He’s Swedish, right? They must do English differently over there.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, hey… he isn’t that weird. I actually think his way of teaching is a nice change of pace.”
A round of groaning passed through the table. “Of course you’d say that. Everyone knows he gives you a fuckin’ A on everything,” she continued.

By this point, I was super red. I really didn’t like where this was going. The girl on the other side of me, Allysa, elbowed me super hard. “What’s the secret? I mean, I don’t respect myself, so I’d be down for whatever you have to do.”

The table laughed. I wasn’t as entertained.“Um, excuse me?”
“No judgement,” Sid added. “A person gotta do what they gotta do sometimes.” Sid and Allysa grinned at one another.

I felt a huge lump form in my throat. I mean, it’s not that they think that I’m a slut, because, whatever. It’s the fact that they associate us in that way. Which I never wanted to even think about in public. Or private. Ugh, the word private disgusted me. I felt twelve years old. “Suddenly, I have to go.” I got up swiftly, holding my tray close to my stomach. It was all good-natured fun. Unless it wasn’t.

“Aw, come on. Don’t leave us now. Unless… you’re going to…” my roommate mimicked some pretty sexual moves. Wow, I really wanted to boil my eyeballs.

I pinched my thigh through my pants pocket and tried not to say anything mean in return. I just laughed, shook my head, and got the hell out of there.

The dining hall building also housed some of the club meeting rooms. Namely, the music and arts clubs. Strolling through was always like going through a teenager’s basement. Posters littered the walls in terrible, ugly fonts and even uglier colors. A kermit-green poster caught my eye, though. It advertised the local community theater’s production of King Lear for the coming weekend. The cause for my attention was the titular character in costume, only it was a familiar face. No… it couldn’t be him. Could it? The nose was definitely right, but this guy had a beard and gray hair. His dad? Older brother? Loki did seem like the actor type, though… Only one way to find out. I took a picture of the poster as a reminder to buy a ticket on their website as soon as I got to my apartment.

That Friday, I made sure to put on my snazziest button-up and cute little bowtie and made my eyebrows and eyeshadow up real nice. Even if it wasn’t Loki I still liked to look pleasant. I pinned an enamel rose to the pocket of my shirt and got ready to leave. I’d made a flower out of paper to give to at least one of the actors. I felt it was a polite thing to do, considering they were part of my community. And, hey, it wasn’t such a bad little project. I did have to glue in some places, though.

I gave myself the once-over in the mirror and winked at my reflection. I was looking pretty hot. Mildly edgy. But mostly hot.

The fine arts center was a really beautiful place. It was a shame I never had time to really visit more. The entrance absolutely glowed. Strings of lights were hooked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Decorations of red and gold surrounded the venue. It was obviously crowded due to it being opening night, but I think that gave it ambiance.

The lights dimmed. My heart did parkour. And, as my extreme luck would have it, there he was. Crown and all. He didn’t even have to speak for me to know it was him. Surprisingly, I wasn’t really digging the beard.

Even though it was Shakespeare (which I found incredibly nauseating), I really enjoyed the play. He was a wonderful actor, of course, which made me wonder why he became a professor instead. I know it couldn’t have been because he loved grumpy twenty-somethings. No matter how nice he was, he wasn’t that patient.

I was absolutely shaking from the raw energy that performance gave me. It was pretty awkward to stand in the lobby by myself with a droopy paper flower, but I promised myself I’d at least say hello.

Finally, the crowd started to thin and the actors came out. He came out last, his ‘daughters’ leading the way. He stopped at a group of people who were holding a bouquet of flowers that were… green? And a bottle of wine. They seemed to be his friends. One of them was a really hot blonde dude with hair just as long as his. Even though he was probably just a normal guy like every other professor, I really didn’t imagine him having this many friends. Especially a hot blonde one, a hot brunette chick, and a really cute nerdy guy. God, I needed a life.

He talked to that group for a while before breaking off to chat with some of the other audience members. I tried to make myself look busy with my phone. An idea struck me and I went toward the water fountain, Loki directly in my path. I pretended not to notice him until we ‘accidentally’ bumped shoulders.

“Oh, I’m sorr—“ He cut off mid-apology and broke out in a huge, cheeky smile. “Hey!”

“Oh, hi, Dr. L!” I pretended to be surprised. He looked absolutely ridiculous. Up close, you could see how much they’d filled in his eyebrows, put baby powder in his black hair, and lazily accented his facial features with makeup. He looked like an absolute toddler but he was enjoying it. “I had no idea you could act. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

He looked a little lost for words, but then smiled to hide it. “I didn’t think it was anything too remarkable.”

“Are you kidding? Oh, I am so telling everyone about this. I mean, they have to see this amazing plastic Burger King crown you’re wearing.”

We both laughed.

He suddenly acted stern. “Shouldn’t you be writing your term paper?”

I gave him a disgusted look. “It’s a Friday.”

He shrugged. “So? Still a weekday.” He sighed, mid-laugh, and looked around. It was a contented noise. “Well, I better get backstage and get all of this—“ he gestured to his face, “— mess, off of me. See you Monday.”

“Um, wait,” I stopped him before he could turn. “For you.” I handed him the rose. He took it graciously, a warm smile on his face. He gave a little curtsy while holding up his cape like a skirt. I giggled.

I watched him go backstage. I don’t think I’d ever felt warmer.

Chapter Text

Later that weekend, I decided to send him an email. I was a naturally curious person, and I considered us friends. Maybe just kindred spirits. I wondered what he thought of me. Maybe he didn’t respond to the emails out of genuine camaraderie, but out of politeness. Nevertheless, it fueled me to continue them.

It was a short message in congratulations. Then I decided to ask my burning question. ‘Why didn’t you pursue acting?’

Since it was a Sunday, it took him a few hours to answer. No, I didn’t wait by my phone for that long. I’m not a dingus.

‘I appreciate your compliments, though I take offense that you think I shouldn’t grow facial hair. Perhaps you’d change your mind once you saw my brother. To answer your question, though, I got a Masters in Performance at Cambridge and found myself very unlucky. That is to say, I’d spent seven years doing theatre when all I really wanted to do was write. So, I went back, got a PhD in English, and now I’m here. I quite like the intimacy of a small community theatre. It’s very humbling and there’s a degree of learning that you could never get at a university. I find that teaching and acting are similar because of the connections I’m able to make.

I hope that answers your question, or else I’ve just wasted a good bit of your time. I still love theatre and performing arts. That won’t change. Inquisitive students like you, though, make my job feel much less like a job. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday.

Dr. Laufeyson, PhD

Sent from my iPhone

I teared up a little at that last paragraph, to be honest. Except he ruined the moment by being a total newb at technology.  Now I knew a whole new side to him. If only everyone who made fun of him saw what a softie he was outside of class. There was no way I was sharing these messages though. I could hear them screaming favoritism and probably way more sexual things at me.

I had no idea why, but emailing was really therapeutic. It wasn’t like talking in person, which was hard to do, nor was it like texting. The anticipation was there, but I preferred a heartfelt note like this over a fast reply. It was like modern-day letter writing. Not quite love letters, because of course not. He was a professional. That could totally get him fired. I think. I also wouldn’t know what to do if he actually did have interest in me. I think I’d be more creeped out than satisfied since he was a good fifteen years older than me or more. Anyhow, I used email drafts religiously. Pretending that my unsent reply was actually delivered. It was the closest to an actual confession I was ever gonna get.

The weeks flew by. At last, finals approached. I’d actually finished my essay on time. Bibliography and everything. My roommate and I were invited out for a couple of drinks the weekend before my Eng final, but I wasn’t worried. He made it so that all we had to do was show up and turn in a physical copy of our paper and we could leave as soon as that happened. The rest of my finals were later on in the afternoon that week. So, like the good-natured college kids we were, we went to fucking party.

The club was a local one, named North 56 or something really random like that. Every Friday night, they had a thing where if couples went together, they’d get a discount on drinks. So, me and my roommate pretended to be a couple while Sid and Allysa paired up. Some other people were going, but I didn’t really care since I wasn’t going to be riding with them.

So the place was packed, naturally. We were partying like it was the end of the world. Mostly it was because we were all screwed over when it came to organic chemistry and just accepted our fate already. The night carried on in a progressively chaotic fashion.

Supposedly, I had been awarded the designated driver position without my knowledge. I found out when Allysa commented on my semi-buzzed state, concerned. I had just finished my second blue moon and decided I was done with dancing for the night. She wasn’t, though. Her and Sid had been pretty frivolous (or flamboyant? what’s a good word to describe two people who’ve been grinding all night), but a slow song came on for some reason (I’m assuming since it was couple’s night) and so they decided to slow dance.

It was actually very cute. I hadn’t really had a relationship that was lovey-dovey, or even a relationship that didn’t end up toxic. I guess that was part of my anxiety or something. Anyway, I was buzzed, watching the couple, hands intertwined. Her hair stuck to her forehead, the sheen of sweat reflecting the blue and purple lights. His arm traveled down to cradle the small of her back. I inhaled, exhaled, and closed my eyes.

I really wanted to know what that felt like.

I dug out my phone, going to the mail app, and began to type. Of course I was writing an email on a Friday night at a club. This was going to be a really sappy draft.

Dear Loki.

Holy shit, right? Another email. I have something to tell you. It’s something I’ve always wanted to say. But first, exposition. Right now, I’m sitting at a table in a club, watching my friends dance, and lemme say, I’m slightly tipsy. But I am so great at typing that I could probably write an essay while blacked out. Anyways. God, I am the worst. Did you know how sick I am? Not physically, but mentally. Like, I’ve got unresolved problems that I don’t want to face, so I busy myself so no one can see how transparently awful I am. But then you happened. I’ve known you for two years now. It seems like forever because I’ve been holding in my feelings and thoughts for so long, I have about an anthology’s worth of emails I’ve never sent to you. I know you only see me as a student, but sometimes I know you see me as more.  That’s what this is about. I can’t bear it anymore. Every time I walk into your classroom, my body breaks out into hives. You’re on my mind constantly and I can’t stop it. There’s something magnetic about you. And chaotic. It’s like you’ve been on this earth for thousands of years, because you know just what to say and how to act and your freaking hair dude, it’s like so soft. I know it has to be soft. God, please. I need a battering ram to knock me back to reality. Just give me something. Some confirmation that I’m not alone in this.

I cringed pretty hard at myself for writing that mess. I closed my phone and went to get another beer.

The next thing I knew, sunlight was streaming down on my face and I was hanging halfway off my bed. I glanced at my alarm clock. It was a little past noon and I had a massive headache. At least it was now Saturday.

I took a few ibuprofen and looked around for my phone. I found it in my shoe underneath my bed. I gave it a whiff and immediately regretted it. I turned down my brightness and checked my notifications. A lot of snapchats. Reminders for class. And, surprisingly, a Dr. L email. The best kind! I was surprised, as he usually never emailed unprompted.

I hastily opened it, jumping on the bed to read. Something in my organs started to flip.

‘Good evening.

While I appreciate your honesty, I am somewhat surprised by your message. You’re an excellent student and an intelligent, charismatic person. However, I am concerned about your comments about your mental health. Perhaps it would be wise to see a therapist. Again, I am very honored by your compliments, but I am afraid to say anything more would be to violate your trust as your instructor. I look forward to reading your term paper.

Best,

Dr. Laufeyson, PhD’

Wait. What.

No. This had to be some kind of prank. Holy shit.

I quickly checked my sent emails.

Sent at 11:02 PM. … What the FUCK. No, no NO this had to be a dream, I wouldn’t have sent that. I couldn’t have. Tears formed in the brink of my vision. I set down my phone carefully, trying not to panic, as my stomach tossed and turned. It was real. And I had just majorly fucked up my life.

With as much energy as I could muster, I raced to the bathroom, barely missing the bowl as vomit went everywhere. I cried as snot ran down my nose and bile crawled up my throat again and again. I spent the rest of the afternoon creating a huge mess in the bathroom. As soon as my stomach emptied, I crawled into the bathtub, fully clothed, and turned the shower on the coldest it could go.

I didn’t get any sleep that night. I just sat there, knees propped up. I didn’t even bother to put on something clean, just sat in my bathrobe. I couldn’t go on Monday. I couldn’t. I would just fail the class and drop out.

I promised myself I wouldn’t go. It was the easiest promise I’d ever kept. I did go to my other finals, though, but I’m pretty sure it made no difference since I was too fazed out to even answer correctly.

My last final ended and it took most of my energy to move my sleep-deprived body out into the hall. My backpack felt like a ton of bricks.

I began to walk towards the exit when someone entered it. It felt like a stone sank into my stomach. The last man I’d ever want to see was there. Casual clothes. A stern look on his face.

I turned around immediately to go the opposite direction, hoping he wouldn’t see me, but of course his observational ass spotted me the second he came in.

“Pardon me. I think you and I need to have a chat.”

I turned back around like a captured convict. I said nothing.

He led me back to his office. The walk there was silent. It felt like I was walking to be hung, drawn, and quartered. It was humiliating.

“Close the door,” he instructed, settling down into his big leather chair. I did so, not daring to meet his eyes, nor sit down. My legs were shaking terribly. I heard him exhale. “You weren’t in my class this morning.”

I nodded.

“Why.” His tone was very harsh. I could hear him breathing angrily.

We stood and sat in silence. I didn’t feel like offering an explanation.

“I’m giving you the option to turn in your essay by the end of the night, but that’s it. I’m deducting your grade by a few points.”

At this point, I could care less about the grade, but the humiliation alone made the tears start up again. I couldn’t let him see me cry.

I went for the door, but before I could, he called out to me.

“Excuse me, but you haven’t been dismissed.”

As he said that, a tear ran down my cheek. I knew that if I turned around, I’d completely break. My shoulders tensed.

“Would you mind sitting down so we can chat?” His voice was still the same stern tone, so I had no choice to agree. He was the controller of my fate, after all. He could make or break this class for me.

I turned around, the wetness on my cheeks apparent, and finally locked eyes with him. “What is it. What do I need to do. I’ve humiliated myself enough, haven’t I? Just please, for the love of god, let me leave. Give me a zero. I don’t care.” I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, but it didn’t work. I was stopped yet again before I could leave, but this time it was by his hand on my shoulder.

He made me face him. Something in his eyes was so very sad. And it bothered me that I didn’t know why. His hair was a little curlier than usual as if he’d straightened it every other day but today. He tucked it behind his ear as he looked down at me.

His hand was still lingering on my shoulder. It felt like a burning hot coal. His other hand went to my other shoulder in a comforting manner. “Please,” he said, in the softest voice I’d ever heard. “It’s alright. Nothing’s the matter.”

For some reason, that made me even more upset. He noticed. So, like a gentleman, he pulled me into a hug. I realized he was risking a lot right now just to give me, one of his hundreds of students, a comforting embrace. I had no idea what kind of sound my heart was making. I really didn’t deserve any of the mercy he was giving me. I cleared the phlegm from my throat. “Why…?”

He pulled back, almost as if he was unsure of the answer. He went back to his desk, not facing me. A long pause. “I have some paperwork to do. Please excuse me.”

That was my cue to leave. I’d never been as confused in my life. If I stayed, though, my heart would probably give out.

I ran to my car and slammed the door, turning on loud music to drown out my thoughts. It was successful. After a few minutes, I decided to check my phone. Maybe call someone. Anything to distract me from the horrible events of the day. Then, an email popped up on my screen.