Fruitless - Lashton

V

V

-

From the corner of his eye, Ashton could see that the same man from last week was waiting. He was also aware that the clock had just hit two. He should be sending his students off to their next lecture or back to their room to sleep. He had nothing left to say, other than that the deadline to drop the course was next week and that wouldn't take two minutes to say. So instead he began to repeat himself. He wasn't trying to bore his students, he wanted to see the momentum of the blonde man's tapping foot increase. Ashton wanted to have another conversation filled with tension.

Five minutes passed and Ashton finally released his students. This time the man didn't even wait for the students to leave. He barged past the students and placed his bag down on the desk — on top of Ashton's copy of scepticism textbook he had contributed a chapter to. "You did that on purpose!"

"Maybe," Ashton shrugged, pulling out his book from under the heavy bag. He watched the man log him off the computer without asking. Ashton couldn't remember what the man said his name was last week. He wasn't supposed to know, he was telling the students, but he had heard nonetheless and felt annoyed at himself for failing to remember. That just confirmed even more the fallible nature of the senses. He was going to have to meet this blonde man every week for at least ten weeks, maybe twenty, it would be respectable to know his name.

Placing his book in his satchel, Ashton glanced over at the blonde man who was hitting the keys with frustration, his nostrils slightly flared. Ashton couldn't help but smile that he had evoked some kind of response in the man. He noticed how small his nose was, and how his skin was pale. Although Ashton rarely ventured outdoors himself — sunlight on pieces of paper made essays and books impossible to read — he at least looked like he went outside. Ashton was amazed this man made it to the lecture theatre without getting burnt, even if it was mid-September!

Ashton found his legs staying put and his mouth desperate to create chitchat and he didn't know why because he hated chitchat. "How was your first lecture?" he asked.

He watched the man look up shocked, his fingers halting over the keys. "My first lecture? How did you know it was my first?"

Ashton chuckled at the man's innocence. He would soon learn all the tricks of the trade and how to read each professor like a book. They may all teach different subjects but they were all doing the same thing more or less. They all had certain responses to different dilemmas. "Only newbies get upset about others overrunning. Then they realise everyone overruns and just shrug it off. Give it a couple of weeks and you'll let me take your hour slot as well!"

"I will not!" the blonde man retorted, pulling a ream of paper with text all over them out of his bag and handing them to Ashton. "Can you place these on the desk as you leave please?"

"I'm not your assistant!" Ashton scoffed, handing them back to him. "And who said I'm leaving?"

"Not this again!" the man groaned. "Either leave or sit silently at the back and think about all the people who will drop out of your course next week after you bored them with repeating the same message!"

Ashton bit his lip and shook his head. He knew it was a joke and he didn't take it to heart. He liked this type of banter. Ashton thought it took courage and intelligence to talk like this. It was perhaps the art of philosopher, just that the subject had no substantial meaning. But then again it was this man's meaning to charge each word he just uttered with substance. And although he never liked literature at school, Ashton understood that there was a subtle invitation here. And the unconscious attempt of flirting. "Maybe I will," he agreed. "Maybe I'll sit there and think about how to make your students drop your course, and then you'll probably lose your job!"

The man rolled his eyes and pulled his presentation up on the screen, turning to check it had appeared on the wall behind him. "This is a compulsory course."

"Ah!" Ashton grinned. "They don't trust you yet!"

"This is my own course. Designed by me!"

Ashton held his hands up in defence. "Okay, so you're important then! They must really like you? Well, that still doesn't mean anything. What you're teaching is meaningless—"

"Because only your course is correct— yes you told me last week. I know what people like you are like. You argue in circles with people and leave them confused. I like what I teach and I enjoy it, you won't change my mind!"

Ashton took a step back and looked around the room, there were a lot of students in there now — more than he had been speaking to. Some were watching them. He wondered how loud they were speaking. He wondered what their body language said. He wanted to tell them that they were wrong. They couldn't trust their senses. It was all a dream. But even he couldn't doubt his feelings. He could deceive them but he knew they were right. "Is this a challenge?" he asked.

"Absolutely not! I just want to get rid of you!" the man said, leaving the desk and walking over the door. Ashton followed, noticing how quickly he was walking and then realised how tall he was. Ashton was tall, but this man was taller. It meant nothing to Ashton but it intrigued him.

The man dimmed the lights and then pushed open the door. "I need to start," he said plainly.

"Okay," Ashton nodded, looking up to meet the man's eyes. "And challenge accepted. We'll start next week!"

-