My Professor

Ch. 2

It started from the beginning. The very first essay. She thought she had a pretty solid grasp on the concepts they were learning, but clearly not. Each week he slapped down her graded essay with red pen written all over it. It frustrated her beyond belief. She knew she could always go talk to him about it and ask for help, but god did he scare her! He really was an approachable man for the other students, but for her, she still had that weird lingering feeling about him and she kept herself at a distance because of it. The time was coming though, when she'd have to step right into danger and ask him for help. Today was that day.

Another terrible grade left her pulling her hair in frustration. She didn't understand what she was doing wrong. She strode up to his desk and slapped down the stack of essays she'd been collecting. "Professor." His eyes flicked up to her. There it was again. His eyes twisting and turning around her, reeling her in, yet filling her with unease.

"Yes, Ms. Bancroft?" He raised his eyebrows at her. He placed his hand on the stack of papers and slid them towards himself. "What is this?"

Violet held her ground. "My essays. I think you should regrade them because I know I understood the material perfectly," she confidently said. Still, his wavering glances made her want to turn the other way and run for her life. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He tilted his head at her.

"And why should I do that? I'm my opinion you got the grade you deserved. You write like a fifth grader." Violet stood there in shock. Ouch. "But," he began, "considering how passionately you feel about this, I'll curve your essay grades. What matters to me is my students' interest, not their writing talent." This shocked her even more. She wouldn't have ever expected this response from him in a million years. Maybe she was wrong about him, or maybe he was just really good at concealing whatever he was hiding. She knew she wasn't crazy those times before. Those times when she felt that feeling of his eyes slipping through the cracks of her skin when she wasn't looking. A devil in disguise perhaps.

She took a breath. "Thank you, Professor." He nodded at her and she turned to leave. Suddenly, she felt his gaze on her. Again. It was always when she turned her back. Sometimes she caught it when he looked at her dead on, but most of the time he waited until she couldn't see him. It felt like he was inspecting her very being, trying to piece her together. It didn't make sense though, that was her job. She was piecing him together. He was the one hiding something! It was freaking her out. Her stomach churned as she began to spiral. Nothing made sense. Why couldn't she figure him out? What is he hiding? Everything she was thinking was just a jumble of random questions that questioned absolutely nothing and led her absolutely nowhere at all! God she was a horrible profiler. She wandered the hallways mindlessly without realizing how much time had truly passed while she spiraled, and she soon realized she wasn't anywhere near where she was when she had left the lecture hall. In fact, she had no idea what hallway she was in at all. It looked like a bunch of offices. She kept walking. It was better to pretend she knew what she was doing than to admit defeat and embarrass herself. She took a right at the end of the hallway and ran into someone, causing her to topple over onto the floor. So much for not getting embarrassed. "God, I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going," she rambled out.

A hand came out into her field of vision. "It's no problem, but you should watch where you're going," a voice said. She took the hand only to realize whose hand it was. Just the man who got her lost in the first place. He looked down at her with this look on his face. Like she was right where he wanted her. But then he blinked, and it was suddenly gone. She glared at him in confusion, but took his hand anyways. He did fix her grades after all. He took notice of this though, and of course he would, considering he was one of the best profilers out there. "What's with the hostility?" He pulled her up onto her feet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said innocently. He huffed and shook his head.

"Okay, well, like I said just watch where you're going." He patted her on the shoulder as he walked past her. It should've been a simple friendly shoulder pat, but to Violet it felt like his handprint was burned into her skin. Their interaction was strange to say the least. It was so mixed, it was hard for Violet to know what to feel. What she did know, is that she was gonna figure this man out.

When she got back to her dorm, she looked up her Professor online. She found basic information, but nothing seemed amiss. She dug deeper, but still, nothing. She closed her laptop in dismay. If this guy worked for the FBI, there was a slim chance she'd find any dirt on him. Or maybe there wasn't any dirt to be found. She doubted that, but so far she'd been unsuccessful in solving that puzzle of a man.

The next time she went to class she took extra care to observe him. She watched his every move. She might have been watching too closely because throughout the class, he began to meet her eyes more and more often. At one point, he looked at her dead-on for minute straight. It sent shivers down her spine. To her, it felt like he was challenging her. She kept contact. His eyes seemed to pierce into her. Her eyes burned, but her will was stronger. He did that thing again where he tilted his head at her. She did it back. He tapped his foot. A few more seconds of staring and he looked away. She wiped the tears from her eyes. She watched Dr. Reid as he walked to his desk and scribbled something down on a sticky note. He turned back around and suddenly he was coming in her direction. Oh no. What was on that sticky note? Her anticipation rose at each step he took up the row. He stopped next to hers, of course, and placed the bright yellow sticky note right next to where we hand was sitting. He turned back to walk up the aisle and she looked down at the note he had left.

See me after class
- Dr. Reid

Violet had no idea what this meant. Was it about her grades? Did he change his mind about improving them? Or maybe it was about the other day when she ran into him. She knew the real answer though. That stare down. It sparked some kind of interest in him and now he was going to pry answers out of her.

She tried not to let it get to her so she could focus on her work for once, and not on him. It was starting to become some sort of obsession of hers, and he might have caught on. Class dismissed and she stayed in her seat until everyone left the class leaving just her and her professor. He waved her over and she complied. She met him at his desk as he sat down. He cleared his throat and folded his hands. "So tell me Barnett, what was that about?"

"I don't know, Professor, you tell me." Violet crossed her arms in defense.

"If you ask me, I think you're just acting like a little brat." He spat.

A shiver ran down her spine. There it was. He'd finally shown his true colors. What happened to the sweet understanding professor from before? She narrowed her eyes at him. "Whatever you say, doctor."

His nostrils flared. He sighed and put his hands on the desk to stand up. Violet followed him with her eyes as he circled around the desk and sat along the edge in front of her.

"So," he paused, "that's the game we're gonna play." He leaned back on his hands.

"What game, professor?" She cocked her head innocently.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He looked down at his shoes and huffed. He loosened his tie and reached behind his back to grab a stack of papers. He dropped them in her hands. "Your essays, Ms. Barnett." He turned his back to her and began to pack up his things.

Violet took that as her queue to leave. "See you later, Professor Reid." He responded with a hum.

Her body buzzed with adrenaline as she left the room. What the hell? Did he really just call her a brat? She felt like she'd gotten whiplash from the man. One second he was calling her a brat and the next he was handing her essays back to her like it was any old day. Her brain twisted and turned in confusion, searching for an answer. There was on thing Violet was sure of, though. Dr. Spencer Reid was not going to beat her at whatever game they were playing now.