Page 17 of His Pet

I took the seat at the desk next to her, the scent of citrus still faintly in the air, and saw a stack of essays marked in blue ink, over half of the amount I had given her.

“Impressive,” I said. She looked away, rolling her eyes. I added, “You worked hard. Thank you.” I could appreciate that she finally told me that the task was unreasonable. It was. I knew that. I wanted to make sure she did too. “Don’t worry about the rest.”

“But I thought I needed to do it. For the contest,” she said, sarcasm in her voice.

“I can finish them off.” I reached for the pile that was unmarked, tucking it under my arm. She raised an eyebrow, and instead of addressing her lack of belief, I nodded at the coffee and waited until she took a drink. “Focus on the thesis and articles. If no thesis, then have a few potential topics ready. The topics,” I raised an eyebrow, “are still due by noon.”

“I can do that.” An increase in energy resonated in her voice. That was good.

I stood, offering her a hand. She stared for a moment, then shook it.

“If you need an extra boost to that coffee,” I tilted my head in the direction of my office, “There’s always whiskey.”

Mara furrowed her brows. “I thought we couldn’t drink on campus?”

All I wanted was to show her that she was welcome in my office at any time. That I wasn’t out to get her. She had passed the first test, one of many. “It was a joke,” I said. “In all honesty, if you need a break,” not more time—stating that would piss her off, make her think I doubted her, “or if you want to bounce ideas, whatever you need, my office is open.”

It would be an interesting semester to see how the collaboration played out. My outlook was to continually drive students to their breaking points, especially when it came to their ideas that they thought were true. But I had never seen a student as focused, as motivated as Mara. Driven to succeed. Someone whoneededit. Willing to do whatever it took. Even if that meant sleeping in her office. Her mouth was full of croissant as I turned towards the door.

As I left, she murmured, “Thanks.”