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The weekend flew by, and Monday arrived with its usual buzz of activity. The mixer had left me feeling more at ease on campus, but it also raised more questions about Professor JM. Why had he taken such an interest in me? Was it just because I was eager in class, or was there something more?
I brushed off the thought as I headed to his lecture on social psychology. Today’s topic was “Group Influence and Individual Identity,” a subject I was genuinely excited about.
The lecture was as engaging as ever, with Professor JM weaving in real-world examples to make the concepts come alive.
When the session ended, he announced, “Next week, we’ll be having a discussion-based session. I’ll assign groups, and you’ll prepare a debate on the influence of societal norms on individuality.”
The class groaned collectively at the mention of group work, but I didn’t mind. It sounded like a fun challenge.
---
Later that evening, as I sat in my apartment reviewing my notes, my phone buzzed with a text message.
I didn’t recognize the number, but the message caught my attention:
“Good evening, Junno. This is Professor JM. I wanted to let you know that I’ve assigned you as the leader of your group for the debate next week. I believe you have the skills to guide your peers effectively. Let me know if you have any questions.”
I stared at the screen, my heart racing. I couldn’t decide if I was thrilled or terrified by the added responsibility.
After a moment, I replied:
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity and will do my best.”
Almost immediately, another message came through:
“I have no doubt about that. Leadership suits you, Junno. Good luck.”
I set my phone down, staring at it as if it might explain what had just happened. Why was he texting me directly? It wasn’t completely inappropriate—he was just assigning a task—but it still felt… personal.
---
The next day, I met my assigned group in the library to start preparing for the debate. Carla and Mark were part of the group, along with three other classmates I didn’t know well yet.
“Looks like you’ve moved up in the world,” Carla teased when she found out I was the leader.
“Yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” Mark added with a grin.
I laughed, trying to hide my nervousness. “Don’t worry. I’m just here to make sure we’re ready for the debate.”
We spent the next hour brainstorming arguments and dividing up the workload. By the end of the session, I felt more confident about leading the group.
---
That evening, I received another text from Professor JM:
“How’s the preparation going?”
I hesitated before replying. Was it normal for a professor to check in like this? Then again, he was probably just trying to ensure the debate ran smoothly.
“It’s going well, sir. We’ve divided the tasks and started brainstorming our arguments.”
His response came quickly:
“Good to hear. Let me know if you encounter any challenges. I want this to be a learning experience for everyone.”
For a moment, I considered asking why he was so invested in my progress, but I decided against it. Instead, I typed a simple:
“Thank you, sir. I will.”
---
Over the next few days, I couldn’t help but notice that Professor JM seemed to pay more attention to me during class. When I spoke, his gaze lingered a little longer, and his feedback was more detailed than what others received.
Carla picked up on it too.
“Okay, spill. What’s going on between you and Professor JM?” she asked during a lunch break.
“Nothing!” I said quickly, feeling my face heat up. “He’s just… encouraging, I guess.”
“Encouraging?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Junno, professors don’t text students unless there’s something more to it.”
“It’s professional,” I insisted, though even I wasn’t sure if I believed that.
Mark smirked. “If you say so. But if it were me, I’d be enjoying the attention.”
---
By the time the debate rolled around, I had managed to push Carla and Mark’s comments to the back of my mind. My focus was on leading my group and making sure we delivered a strong presentation.
The debate went better than I could have hoped. My group presented our arguments clearly, and the discussion was lively and engaging.
Afterward, as the class packed up to leave, Professor JM stopped me at the door.
“Well done, Junno,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “You have a natural talent for leadership.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, trying not to let his words go to my head.
He gave me a small, almost private smile. “Keep it up.”
As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that his words carried more weight than just professional encouragement. And for the first time, I wondered if Carla and Mark might be onto something after all.