Page 25 of His Pet

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

She stared at me for a moment, perhaps to balance herself as much as she was questioning why I cared. I knew how it looked. Her eyes were bloodshot and glassy. The beers must have been strong. Perhaps she had been trying to keep up with her peers. But at just over twenty-one years old, the other graduate students had a few more years of practice.

“I’m fine,” she said. Then she shook her head. “I guess I’m a little dizzy.”

“Let’s get some food in you,” I said. I adjusted the messenger bag’s strap on her shoulder, and she held the empty pouch to her chest.

“Some food?” she asked.

“You’re drunk,” I said. “Food and water.” I excused us from the group and walked through the crowd of people. When I realized she wasn’t following me, I found her, and offered my hand. She stared at it.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

“You’re mypartner,” I said. “I can’t have my partner sick. Who is going to grade my papers?”

She smiled, satisfied with the answer showing that I was still the asshole professor she knew from campus.

She took my hand and I led her.