My Professor's Secret

38|

thirty-eight

"Wonderful effort from all of you," Professor Thornton says once the final scene comes to an end. He steps away from the podium and folds the stack of evaluation sheets beneath one arm. "I'm genuinely impressed by the effort you've all put into these performances. Not only in understanding your individual characters, but the story as a whole."

Relief settles over the lecture hall almost immediately. The rigid posture I'd been holding throughout our performance finally begins to loosen as students exchange quiet conversations with one another. Scripts close. Chairs scrape against the floor. The atmosphere feels lighter now that the hardest part is behind us.

Before tonight, I don't think I fully appreciated how talented everyone in this room truly was.

Listening to performance after performance had been both inspiring and intimidating. Wyatt and I weren't the only pair who'd managed to bring genuine emotion to the stage. Every scene seemed to reveal something new about classmates I'd barely spoken to all semester.

Professor Thornton spends several minutes explaining why he refuses to cast the production himself.

"I've found over the years that allowing your peers to vote eliminates any concern that favoritism played a role in the final decision," he explains. "The people you'll be performing beside should have confidence in the cast just as much as I do."

Favoritism. The word catches in my stomach. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have thought twice about it. Now I can't stop thinking about the hug or about Wyatt walking in. The way Trevor and I sprang apart like we'd actually done something wrong haunted my thoughts since it happened.

Against my better judgment, my eyes drift toward Wyatt. He isn't looking at Professor Thornton. He's looking at Trevor.

There isn't any anger written across his face, but there is something else. Something observant. Ever since he walked in on us before class, I haven't caught him looking anywhere else for very long, but maybe I'm imagining it. Or maybe guilt is making me paranoid. Whatever is to blame, I can't shake the feeling that he's paying far more attention than I'd like him to.

It doesn't help that during our performance, Professor Thornton interrupted Wyatt to correct one of his lines. It wasn't unusual. Several students had stumbled over dialogue throughout the evening. Professor corrected each of them the same way he corrected Wyatt. Calmly and professionally. Yet after everything that had happened earlier, every interruption between them felt heavier than it probably was.

When the final performances are discussed, Professor narrows the casting down to two pairs for each leading role based on class votes. One by one, he announces the supporting cast before finally arriving at the names everyone has been waiting for.

"Would Wyatt Buchanan, Alexandrea Castillo, Chessie Campbell, and Gavin Withers please come to the front?"

My stomach immediately flips. The walk to the front of the lecture hall feels much longer than it actually is. Every step seems to echo beneath my boots. Chessie and Gavin stand beside us, both looking just as nervous. They'd been incredible.

Truthfully, if I'd been voting solely from an objective standpoint, I don't know who I would've chosen. Chessie carried herself with an effortless grace that felt almost tailor-made for Hester Prynne. The only thing she'd lacked was the emotional desperation Wyatt had spent days forcing me to find within myself.

Ironically, it was only because my own life had begun falling apart that I'd finally understood the woman I was portraying. Somewhere between hospitals, grief, Trevor, and my father's uncertain future... Hester stopped feeling like a fictional character. She became someone I understood. Someone who loved despite the consequences. Someone constantly judged by people who'd never lived through what she had.