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"I should apologize for Mr. McCoy's behavior," Dr. Green said, his hand still gently on the back of my arm. "I think he means well."
My brows furrowed, agree to disagree. I doubted Dr. Green knew what he really was like.
"He's pretty intimidating." I said, causing him to laugh. His voice smooth and light, "I think that, too. But usually, intimidating people feel the same way about us. I think a psychologist would say...well, something boring to young students, I'm sure."
"That the worst we see in others is what we actually see in ourselves?" I put in, De. Green's smile widened, eyes lighting up. "Well said."
"...I hope it doesn't mean Mr. McCoy doesn't like that I wear a skirt because he doesn't look good in a skirt."
Dr. Green's head rocked back, his hand going to his forehead, and he laughed loud enough to attract attention from other students. "Now, every time I see him, I'll imagine him in a skirt."
I hid my smile as I agreed silently.
We stopped outside of room 103 when Dr. Green turned to me, "Shall we go in?" His eyes were gentle, and he looked up. I knew I was blushing brightly. His smile was so casual and confident. I wish I felt the same as he did, I felt like a total, short idiot standing next to him.
"Thank you." I mumbled, eyes falling to my shoes, "I don't mean to keep you."
"It's fine," he assured, "I was headed in this direction anyway."
The room was an inner office. The orange cloth covered chairs, all occupied, and a long orange counter at the far side of the room. I cringed at the brightness of the room. Way too much orange for my taste. There were two secretaries on the other side of the counter. They were busy taking papers from students and talking to them.
"Why don't you come with me?" Dr. Green said, surprising me, "I'll let you cut through this line."
I shook my head, "It's okay, Dr. Green. It wouldn't be fair. I'll just wait until it's my turn."
Dr. Green eyed me surprise and let a soft smile overtake his lips. He slowly shook his head, causing his curls to bounce along his forehead.
"It's completely fair," he said, gently pushing me in front of him as we walked through a series of small hallways with an ugly shaggy orange carpet and painted white bricks. The hallway was dim as there weren't any overhead lights. Most of the doors we passed were closed, looking eerily untouched. He stopped at an unmarked door, stepped in front of me, and gave a gentle knock before opening it.
I hesitantly walked behind him and peered inside. The inner office with a double set of brown, faux-wooden office desks facing each other. Each had a computer and several stacks of papers piled neatly in brown plastic bins. There were a couple of file cabinets in the corners and a cork board nailed to the far wall, with a calendar and some notes attached to it. There was a small radio sitting on top of one of the file cabinets. A familiar violin concerto was playing at a low volume.
