If I Let Go

4

“I am Mark Myles. I pursued medicine, dropped out in my second year in favor of Finance. Now I help in running a family business," he said when it was his turn. He had chosen a seat next to the window so that he could study the hallways below in case I bored him to death.

Dark brown in complexion, Mark looked about twenty eight, with well trimmed side buns and dreadlocks gathered at the back of his head which mind you, was a total violation of the school rules. Dressed in a fitting tee-shirt that revealed strong arms, one could easily assume that Mark was the classic bad boy. I made the assumption too but as days passed, I learnt that I was totally wrong.

One cannot exactly describe Mark as the over achieving student who along the way becomes the class representative. He likes to socialize but doesn't raise his hand to ask questions unless it is to make a joke or ask something totally unrelated to the topic being covered in class. Neither does he fit in the category of the lazy group that turn in poorly researched essays days after the deadline because he submits his assignment way before they are due.

His papers are usually well referenced and original and whether he has someone else do them, I cant prove.
At the beginning of that semester in May, I gave the class representative the course outline. As required, I provided my work email along with my work phone number. Of course we reminded students that they had to call at reasonable times preferably during the day.

It was only fitting that Mark sent me emails from time to time.

At first they were innocent and purely professional, asking for my feedback about his essays. None of my students, or any students in St. Patrick for that matter, had ever shown interest in a take away CAT. They only got serious when they were submitting their research projects that sometimes determined the overall performance when compiling the final grade before graduation. They were mostly seniors so it came as a bit of surprise that Mark was actually paying attention to school work.

I only taught their class one unit so the conversation about his assignment should not go for more than four exchanges, realistically speaking.

As weeks passed, the friendly chat slowly progressed to full blown flirting. I admit I was secretly thrilled to learn I was assigned his class again the second semester in September. Of course I should have known better being the lecturer and all but as fate would have it, I was crushing hard on a student. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a huge deal in most institutions as long as there is no blackmail involved but this is St. Patrick's, the only institution in the country that observes a strict dressing code among its students and members of staff.

***
On Monday morning, I attempt to mark the essays but I am unable to concentrate. It's a holiday and I turned down Melissa's tempting invite for a drive to mom's with the kids. Deciding that it would be an absolute waste to stay indoors and not achieve what I initially set myself to do, I decide to text June.

She is my best friend and as well as colleague. I could find out if she is behind work like me.

Hey gal, what do you say about spending the holiday at school? I have a million essays to grade.

I get her reply ten minutes later.

Sorry Sal. Cant leave the house. Stan is not feeling ok

Stan is Junes fiancé. He is a nice guy who used to be her manager when she worked for an insurance company sometime back. June tells me he is coming down with a terrible flu.

Sorry to hear that. Tell him I wish him a quick recovery.

I am a little disappointed that I will probably spend the day alone in the office but since I am determined to do something productive today, I shower quickly and put on a denim top over nice jeans. As soon as I am on the road, I find that there is little to no traffic and I arrive at the school twenty five minutes later.

I park my Subaru and fetch my laptop from the backseat and throw it together with the essays in a backpack. I am exiting the car when a figure suddenly appears in front of me blocking my path.

"Salina," Mark says coolly and extends his soft hand.

"Fancy seeing you here on a holiday." I can't help hiding my surprise, momentarily forgetting that I should give him a proper hello. "How are you?"

"I am good, Salina. And I also have to ask, what brings you to school?" Mark flashes me a smile and leans on the car. His sexy cologne makes it hard for me to breathe.

“Well, I figured I could use the silence here to get some work done. What's your excuse?" I ask attempting to pull off a nonchalant tone. For all I know, he could be dropping by to pick a cute sophomore for their lunch reservation somewhere. With looks like that, its a miracle he is sparing a minute of his time to chat with poor me.

“I needed to study. The finals are in a few weeks." A small frown forms on his face and he reaches for my backpack.

“What are you doing, exactly?"  I ask, gesturing to the bag that he is now swinging over his shoulder.

“Helping you carry this, whatever is in this bag to your destination, miss," Mark replies innocently and winks. "You could use a little company."

“Thanks but no thanks." I reach for my bag to stop him.

"Sorry?" He arches an eyebrow in confusion.

"It's illegal, remember?" I explain, my eyes sweeping the parking anxiously as if expecting some naughty student close by taking pictures. Mark doesn't break eye contact but nods in understanding.

"I forgot," he admits sheepishly. "Can we have coffee later?"