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“Miss Green, do you need a piece of paper?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
Her spine straightens as she releases her bottom lip from between her teeth. “Nope.”
The rest of the class types their notes on a computer or their phones, but as I continue discussing the readings and assignments, Sadie proceeds to use her body as her own personal notepad.
With a sigh, I freeze midsentence and turn toward the male student in the front row. He’s writing in a notebook and when I stare down at him, he glances up at me with confusion and a hint of fear in his eyes. Without another word, I take his notebook from his desk and flip to a blank page. Quickly I tear a piece out as the entire class watches in tense silence.
With the blank paper in hand, I march over to where Sadie is sitting in the third row. Her eyes are wide as I place it on her desk.
She glances down at it before shooting her terror-filled gaze up to my face.
“From now on, Miss Green, please come to my class prepared.”
I watch her throat as she swallows. “Okay,” she mumbles softly.
“And on time,” I add.
Her eyes narrow, and her mouth closes in a tight, straight line. She doesn’t respond, and in the back of my mind I consider that I should probably feel bad for how I’m treating her mostly because I know her. But I don’t.
She should know better than to show up in a college class without the bare minimum. I don’t know how she gets by normally, but in my class, I have expectations.
Turning her attention to the paper on the desk, it feels like she’s obstinately ignoring me as I turn back to the front of the room and continue my lecture on the class readings and assignments.
Toward the end of the period, the entire class starts to appear restless, packing up their things and checking their phones while I’m still talking. I glance up at Sadie, who is finally writing on the paper I gave her.
About five minutes before the end of the class, I announce to everyone that they can leave. They practically stampede out of the lecture hall, but Sadie hovers at her seat until the rest of them are gone. I’ve never spoken to her privately before, but after that little incident in class, I’m dreading this interaction.
I should apologize.
Shouldn’t I?
With a huff, she stands from her seat, snatching the paper in her hand.
“Look, I’m sorry for being late, but just because we know each other in real life doesn’t mean you can be such a jerk to me,” she says. My back is to her as I close my laptop and slide it into my bag.
“I assure you, Miss Green, I was not treating you differently because we know each other,” I reply without turning around.
“Oh, so you’re just an asshole all the time then?”
My head spins toward her. “Excuse me?—”
With a smirk, she interrupts me. “I assure you I would have said that to you even if we didn’t know each other.”
My eyes seem to be stuck, my jaw hanging open. Suddenly, I can’t tear my gaze away, and I realize I’m focusing too long on her hair, her freckles, her lips, her eyes. Which is weird for me. Normally, I avoid eye contact or staring at anyone for more than a split second, but Sadie has this gravity about her. I can’t look away.
Finally closing my mouth and crossing my arms as I turn toward her, I let out a sigh. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, Miss Green.”
“Please call me Sadie,” she replies with an eye roll.
Ignoring her request, I continue. “If you’re going to be in this class, Miss Green, then I think we need to set some expectations.”
“Fine,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “I expect you to not humiliate me in front of the whole class.”
“And I expect you to come to my class on time and prepared,” I argue. “Is that clear?”
With a scoff, she flinches as if I’ve insulted her. After a moment, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes again. “Yes, Luke. Crystal clear.”
“Dr. Goode,” I snap.
