TEACH ME

The Meet Cute

My first day and I was already going to be late. Fuck. Rushing, I put on my dress shirt and tie and tuck it into my slacks. My first day as a substitute professor since graduating my own college and i'm going to be late. My nerves were already on high alert, so much so that I could barely sleep last night; coffee would have to be my saving grace.

I shove my watch onto my wrist and rush into the kitchen to grab a to go mug and fill it with black coffee. I needed this job to go well, especially since I wouldn't have gotten it without my fathers friendship with the dean. This was *Ivy League Acadamy* and I can't stop thinking about the fact that every student and professor will know I shouldn't be there. It was my first job, every other professor there had years of experience. I was there because of my fathers advantage.

My head spins as I rush to grab my briefcase and keys, I push back thoughts of being tardy, and how I already needed a drink.
*
I don't care much for speeding but the second I got in my car, the voltage that the car salesman sold me on came in handy. Lane to lane I danced as my shoe pressed the gas more and more at a steady pace, increasing my speed. It was by the grace of every holy spirit that I didn't get pulled over or crash by the time I parked in my assigned space and rushed inside.
*
I sped walked as fast as I could without making it seem like I was rushing to the bathroom. I now understood why grandmas considered this pace "working out".
As I sped through the halls, I couldn't help but take note of the decor as it rushed by my eyes. The wood paneling was glossy and spread mostly throughout the enourmous hallways, and the marble floors seemed almost glasslike. There was the occasional painting or black and white photograph of some founder, or flowers in large vases- and the hallways seemed to be shaped like a maze. It lived up to its threatening reputation.

Turning my head to look at one or two open lecture hall rooms as I round the corner to my room, I already see Professors at the front and students starting to fill in. Crap. I'm so close. Just around this corner....

My shoes squeak as I pick up the pace and finally see my ornate wooden lecture hall doors. And a line of students out front. I see the time is 8:59am. Bad but not terrible. I was technically on time, not late yet due to my speeding. I just was not early for the first day like the students waiting outside.

Quickly I nod at the students as they spot me and push on the wooden door handle quickly turning the knob to one of the doors and shoving it open, one part of me wanting to get inside quick before 9am so I could tell myself I was not late, and the other wanting to get the students waiting inside before other Professors noticed.

But as I finally open the door, I hear a terrible thud on the other side. I've hit something: or someone. Then I hear the shuffle of footsteps and realize it is indeed a person. My heart thumps once more as I round the door to see who it is.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you there!" I start with concern, and then make eye contact with a pair of dark chocolate eyes and plump pink lips that takes away my next sentence. A wave of dejavu rolls over me as I take in the woman I collided with. Why does this seem familiar?

"Don't worry about it," she starts with a cool low toned voice, hugging a black leather binder of some sort to her chest, "I was in here too early anyway. The professor isn't here yet, so we should probably just wait outside." Her black nailpolished fingertips lightly tap her books and she takes a step closer to where I stand holding the door open still with my free hand. "Just between you and me, I always think the professors who are late are the ones who you have to watch out for. Tardiness usually means they don't give a shit about their- well, anything."

I blink and suddenly a small smirk appears on my face when I realize what was going to happen next. Did I look that young? My right hand, which holds the door, pushes it all the way forward so that it clicks into place and holds itself open for everyone to enter through.

I then walk to the front of the room as students filter in and she looks at me quizzically from the same place by the doorway as I go to my desk and announce loudly, "Students, i'm Mr. Richardson but you can call me mister R if you'd prefer. I'll be your Professor for Literature 101."

The girls face falls into one of shock and she purses her lips together a moment in some emotion I don't recognize, before turning to find a seat amongst the sea of students. Her golden hair falls in small waves around her shoulders, lightly swaying as she took the steps to her preffered seat on the left hand side of the lecture hall. I peel my eyes from her and continue on with my lecture, but her face sticks in my mind and suddenly I remember why she seemed familiar.

Out of everyone I could have bumped into, I ran into her.