moral code, 𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐬

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

i received a text from my boss asking me to cover a shift today, which i honestly didn't mind. i needed the money. the bookstore was fifteen minutes from campus, it's an independently owned business, so it's just the owner, manuel; and me. manuel can be quite generous with my hours, employing a student and all. i've overheard a lot of my classmates talk about how stressful work can be on top of being a full time student, so i'm very grateful to have a boss as understanding as him.

the bookstore was quiet as usual, just a few customers browsing the isles.

"thank you for coming in today." manuel says, grabbing his keys from behind the desk. "i need to take ramona to the hospital."

"is everything okay?" i ask, hanging my jacket on the
coat rack in front of the store. "we have a chemo appointment, i just forgot about it."

i've never met his daughter, ramona, but from what i've heard she has leukemia and manuel was always taking her to emergency checkups and chemo treatments. the two of them lived in the apartment above the bookstore. manuel never spoke about ramona's mother, all i know is she hasn't been in the picture since she was born.

i could only imagine how much medical bills cost. i felt bad the bookstore wasn't making as much money as it used to. take today for example, i probably sold six books in total. manuel once told me i could take whatever book i wanted for free, but i always slipped money into the cash register before going home. he needs the money more than i do, and if i'm being honest it makes me feel like a good person. sometimes i feel like i have such little purpose on this planet and i need to remind myself it's probably just my mind playing tricks on me. that's probably why wyatt was my only friend here at georgetown, i don't make time for people like i should. i'm well liked, and plenty of people tried to befriend me, but i don't give them the time of day. i like being alone though, i don't know what's wrong with me.

manuel didn't end up coming back to the store, so i locked up around 5pm and headed back to my door.

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homework quickly became abundant. i was naive to think that the ease would last, but it was to be expected. when i wasn't at work, i was in my dorm studying, and when i wasn't studying, i was in class. i had six classes in total, but emily's was my favorite. when i started majoring in criminal justice, i had my mind set on forensics; i don't know if it's the way emily teaches, but my interest in criminal profiling has skyrocketed. i found myself constantly observing my classmate's behavior, watching their facial expressions and how they conduct themselves differently depending who they're around. it was almost obvious the changes in their etiquette. it made me question whether my thoughts were as transparent as theirs.

i lay on my stomach with my notebook opened on my bed, rewriting my notes. a soft knock echos from my door and i groan while pulling myself out of bed and six feet over the the door of my dorm room.

"nat, hi! i want to make sure my music isn't too loud for you." the red haired girl says. fiona gibson, the girl who lives in the room across from me. fiona has an opened door policy, which means anyone is allowed in her room at all times. the noise can get quite annoying, but her kindness makes up for it.

"oh, no i didn't even realize you were playing music." i tell her as she peeks into my room. "doing homework? you're always studying."

"yeah, it's for my criminal profiling class." i tell her, knowing she couldn't care less.

"oh! who teaches that? i heard everyone has a crush on her, well all the guys upstairs." she giggles. i restrain from rolling my eyes and give her a tight lipped smile. "really? i mean, yeah i guess she's pretty."

"well i won't keep your homework waiting. bye nat!" she grins and skips off to her room.

i close the door and walk back to my bed, plopping on my stomach. there was no doubt emily prentiss was an attractive woman, but it didn't sit right with me hearing fiona talk about her.

cards on the table, it's not my first time crushing on a teacher. when i was in high school, i had an english teacher with the cutest dimples on his cheeks and i couldn't help but daydream about them during class. of course then i was a teenager, barely fifteen. but now i'm almost twenty four; these feelings are childish.

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my next class was psychology, taught by the worst professor i ever had: albert baurdot. and i wasn't the only one who loathed him, half the school did. he barely shows up for class, and when he did he was drunk off his ass. apparently he had been working at georgetown for fifty years, so he's kind of untouchable. i'm not even sure why i continue to attend his classes, nobody does, but it's not like i have anything else to do. truthfully, i was lonely. the only social contact i'd get is during class time. which is probably why i appreciate emily so much. my other professors don't give the time of day, but professor prentiss constantly goes out of her way to talk to me, and it's sweet. i cross my fingers it's not because she can read how lonely i am, she is a profiler after all.

to my surprise, albert shows up to class a half hour after it started. he sat down at his desk and told us to read the next chapter of our textbook ourselves. the ten of us that decided to come today, quietly read the chapter while albert napped in his spinning chair.

i finished my reading before everyone else, and quietly excused myself, trying not to wake the professor. it was a waste of an outfit, but at least i had gotten out of my dorm.

ever since wyatt and i broke up, i challenged myself to get out of the house at least once a day. it helped me avoid depression.

as i walked out of the lecture hall, i noticed emily working on what i assumed to be school stuff. i debate whether i should go over and say hello, but my anxiety gets the better of me. instead, i walk by with a smile.

"miss campbell." she lifts her head in my direction. i turn to face her and stop in my tracks. "hi."

her eyes lingered and i decided it would be rude to just walk away. i step closer to her table and stand by. "how's the homework coming?" she asked me with a concern look.

"it's going alright." i say honestly, "i'm managing better than i was last week."

the corners of her lips rise and she gives a reassuring nod. "i'm glad! i know how stressful it can be, i have four classes to teach this semester and i'm already falling behind, i can't imagine having six." she chuckles.
how does she know i'm taking six classes?

"i'm taking psychology with albert baurdot, so technically it's only five." i joke, hoping she'd realize that.

"i haven't had the chance to meet him yet, but i've heard some things." she raises an eyebrow and i can tell she knows about his bad reputation. i like that about her, sometimes i forget she's a professor. the first time she walked into that lecture hall, i was a bit intimidated by her. but since i've gotten to know her a little more, she actually has a comforting quality about her. she cleared her throat and i blinked a few times, realizing i was staring.

"i-i should get going. it was good to see you, emily." i say quickly before bolting down the hall.
maybe she does still intimidate me.