I checked my watch for the millionth time, wishing that 8:30 would hurry up and arrive so I could leave. I made a private agreement with myself that I would stay at the restaurant with my new colleagues until at least 8:30, no matter how bad a time I was having; now that it was 8:00, I desperately needed those thirty minutes to speed by. As I had guessed, everyone from the university who had shown up at Frankie’s was under fifty. The oldest among us was a thirty-eight-year-old Atmospheric Science professor named Atticus Longfellow, a smug, know-it-all who thought he was a lot funnier than he actually was.

Atticus and a few of the other professors had spent the entire of our time together talking about Las Positas’s recent decisions regarding tenure, and a few surprise hirings and firings, none of which I knew anything about since I had just arrived. Casaundra kept glancing over at me, trying to suck me back into the conversation, but I wasn’t taking her bait. Unless the dialogue steered to something that was actually meaningful, like goals and plans for this academic school year, I was not interested. I also couldn’t help but think she was glaring at me and it was making me a little uncomfortable.

After a while, Atticus could sense that I wasn’t having the greatest time because he gave me a look as if to apologize for what he had done. He had singlehandedly caused an interesting discussion about unorthodox teaching methods to derail into one about job stealing, and it felt a little pointed given my recent arrival. The segue began with a comment about how younger teachers tend to use nontraditional but more effective ways of instructing, and from there it just spiraled into the train wreck that I was itching to get away from.

“How did we ramble on about this for so long?” William Martin, an Advanced Astrophysics professor said, as he took his last few bites of marsala.

“I don’t even know,” Casaundra answered, taking a sip of her cranberry and vodka. She shot me another scowl, which I ignored. I knew she was enjoying the conversation, mostly because she could tell how uncomfortable it was making me. But since I didn’t know why she was getting so much pleasure out of it, I refused to take the bait and just focused on my phone instead.

“Knight, you’ve been mighty quiet over there,” Atticus pointed out. “What’s your take on this?”

I sighed, not wanting to be the person who dragged the mood down. But I had to be honest, especially because I was hoping to move on. “I don’t have a take, Atticus. It’s not really something I care to talk about.” There was a level of harshness in my voice that made my feelings crystal clear if my words somehow hadn’t done the job.

“Well, what are your objectives for the new school year? What do you hope to accomplish with your students?” Atticus asked me, a question that I could actually get behind, but now was not in the right headspace to answer.

“I can tell you all what my objectives are,” said a Geophysics professor named Amy Kellerman. Next to me, she was the quietest person among us. Since we’d stepped into Frankie’s nearly two hours ago, she had uttered all of six words.

“Tell us, Amy, please. What do you have up your sleeve this semester?” Atticus inquired, his entire focus shifting back to scholastic substance, where it should have been the whole time. They talked for a while about lesson plans, and student objectives, but I was already checked out. All I wanted to do was get home and crawl into bed to watch a movie in peace. It was time to make a run for it.

“Hey, yeah, can I get a box for this, please?” I called out to our waiter as he walked by.

“Sure, of course, sir. Let me just grab your bills, okay?”

I nodded a thank you and was about to return to staring at my phone, but when he stepped out of the way, I noticed a group of beautiful young ladies sitting in a booth on the opposite end of the restaurant. I glimpsed over there quickly and then tried to turn my attention back to my colleagues but did a double-take after I spotted a gorgeous girl with long hair and round, sparkling eyes at the end of their table.

She looked a few years younger than me, maybe twenty-five or so, and she was wearing a silvery, satin blouse that hugged her in all the right places. I craned my neck around the end of the table and now could see her snug, boot-cut jeans and sexy but tasteful heels. She had a natural glow about her that seemed to make her stand out, even in the crowded restaurant, and her smile was bright and happy. I wanted to hear her voice, but I felt like our table was a thousand miles away, and I couldn’t hear anything over the dull roar of my fellow teachers.

I started to feel like kind of a creep, though, checking out this girl who was just trying to enjoy a night out with her friends. So, I dove back into my world of half-eaten steak and forced conversation. But even as I tried to distract myself, I couldn’t stop glancing over at her. I had to say something to her, even if it was just a simple hello, I couldn’t walk out of here without at least introducing myself.

Then, while gazing in her direction for the hundredth time, I caught her looking back at me. She hung her head down shyly, looked back and forth between me and her friends, and giggled.

The waiter returned at the most inopportune time to serve us the bills.

“Hey bud, you payin’?” Atticus asked me in jest and laughing at his own joke, still putting forth an effort to befriend me. I gave a halfhearted chuckle, just so I didn’t look like a prick, but my focus immediately returned to the girl in the booth.

My colleagues commenced another fruitless discussion about their dissatisfaction with their salaries, while fumbling through their wallets for debit and credit cards.

“How much were you getting paid at the old gig, Knight?” Atticus probed, once again attempting to pull me into the conversation. I was too busy gawking at the girl to answer.

The waiter came back to pick up the bills and deliver boxes for any uneaten food. I took the steak knife and scooped the block of meat into the box with a heavy thud.

The rest of the professors began putting on their coats as the waiter came back again to distribute their respective cards and hand out receipts.

“Hey, Knight, did you pay yet?” Casaundra called out to me, suddenly.

It caught me off guard, because she said it while the waiter was standing around, and I was paranoid that she might have been trying to frame me for a dine and dash.

“Oh… no, I didn’t pay yet. You know, you guys can go on without me. I’ll stay behind for a bit,” I told them.

“You sure, bud? We’ll wait for you,” William offered.

“No, really, you don’t have to do that. I need to go to the men’s room anyway, and I don’t want to hold you up,” I lied.

“Alright, buddy, well we’ll see you around on campus, I guess. Nice meeting you,” Atticus spoke for the group. The rest of them looked at me, baffled, as if they didn’t know whether to smile, or eye me with contempt. So, they settled on cordial nods and a stiff wave as they made their way for the Frankie’s exit. Casaundra peeked back over her shoulder at me with a pointed glare.

I positioned myself back at the bar and crossed my fingers that that pretty young woman would feel compelled to come over here and get herself a drink. If she didn’t…

I just might have to take one over to her myself.