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“Yes, sir,” she replies with enthusiasm, and I find my molars grinding. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but if she’s trying to push every button of mine, she’s succeeding. It’s like she sees insolence as a charming attribute rather than an infuriating flaw.
I’ll break her of it. I swear I will.
Ignoring her remark, I turn toward the rest of the lecture hall and continue my discussion on the American literary movement.
“The most popular book during this movement that I’m sure most of you have heard of is Moby Dick.” I hold up my copy of the book, and the students nod in recognition, typing their notes as they listen.
A small snicker from the left side of the room catches my attention. I turn my head to see Sadie smiling to herself as she jots down something in her notebook.
I should just leave it alone, but when it comes to her, it’s obvious I can’t seem to help myself.
“Is something funny, Miss Green?”
She looks up. “Oh, no,” she replies, giggling again as she returns her eyes to her paper.
Is she really so immature that she finds the title Moby Dick to be funny? Against my better judgment, I persist.
“No, please share why you think it’s appropriate to laugh during my presentation.”
Her eyes lift again, this time piercing me with a stubborn expression. “Fine,” she spits out with tenacity. “I was laughing because this guy and I used to use Moby Dick as a texting code with each other whenever we wanted to hook up. That’s what made me giggle. Happy now?”
The class erupts in laughter, but Sadie’s fearless gaze doesn’t leave my face—not even as my cheeks start to heat up. I have to fight the urge to drag her out of her seat and show her what happens to impudent brats when they act like she is right now.
Rebellious, sassy, bold brats like Sadie Green.
“That’s enough,” I bark, tearing my eyes away from her and focusing on the class. “Thank you for enlightening us, Miss Green. For the purpose of today’s lecture, we’re going to focus on Moby Dick, the novel.”
“Fine by me,” she mutters under her breath.
But even as I move on and make it through the rest of the class discussion, I can’t shake the tension that has burrowed itself in my bones. How can I let her get under my skin like this? What is it about this woman that drives me so mad? It’s not like she’s the first student to talk back or the first woman to give me hell. But there’s just something about Sadie that makes her different from the rest, and I wish I could put my finger on it.
After class ends and the students file out, Sadie doesn’t leave her seat. She sits in her spot, crosses her arms, and glares at me as she waits for the room to empty.
The moment the last student leaves and the door closes, we unleash on each other.
“What is your problem?” she shouts.
“Is it too much to ask that you show up on time?” I yell.
“You do realize that I’m not the only person who shows up late to a college class, right?”
“Yeah, well, you’re the only one who bothers me every single time you do it,” I argue.
“Why?” Her hands fly into the air as she stands from her seat. “What is your obsession with me? You hate everything I do and you take it all so personally!”
“Because I see your potential, Miss Green. I see how brilliant you are, and you’re wasting it!” My own statement takes me by surprise.
Her hands drop, and her face falls. “You think I’m brilliant?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I reply, turning away to begin packing up my things.
“Clearly, it does, Dr. Goode. You act as if your opinion of me matters more than anyone else’s.”
Do I?
“My opinion of you does not matter, Miss Green. What matters is that you have real potential. However, rather than utilizing that potential, you show up to class late and unprepared, and what’s worse, you disrupt the rest of the class with your giggles and comments.”
She huffs with a sarcastic laugh, and I spin on her to see her face. “What’s so funny?” I ask.
