I nervously looked at my watch, afraid that I was going to be late for my first day of classes. A few blocks north of my house there was a small transit bus that took students and teachers to campus, but it seemed to be running late. In retrospect, I should have just taken my own car, or even walked for that matter. It probably would have taken less time, but it was my first day, so I was trying my hardest to not lose my temper.

After a less-than-safe ride at top speed toward the university, the shuttle doors hissed open slowly. I checked my watch and it was 8:38. I was only running a little bit behind, but still, I was inwardly fuming because even being a little late was going to give a bad first impression. Especially as a brand-new teacher.

I darted off the shuttle without a thank you to the driver and burst through the front doors of the Polk building. The labyrinthine hallways completely threw me off kilter, in spite of the fact that I had done repeat tours of this place during orientation. I didn’t think I could ever get used to this place and its cryptic design. I paused in the middle of the atrium to gather my bearings before I tried to follow my instincts in the right direction, though my instincts tended to fail me more often than not. After a few false starts, I remembered that my class was in room W217 and proceeded straight back to the staircase.

My feet double- and triple-skipped steps, practically gliding over them more so than making actual contact. I landed on the second level, pulled myself together and walked coolly down the corridor to the room I was assigned.

Deep breaths, you got this, I thought before opening the door. I walked in and immediately the din of college kid prattle dimmed to a stillness. I headed straight to the front of the classroom, not looking at any of my students because I was too nervous to make eye contact, and I knew if I did, I would get rattled. I was already running late, and only had an hour and some change left to instruct, so I wanted to begin as soon as possible. Coughs, sniffs, and the clearing of throats echoed throughout the room made me more nervous than I already was, and I wondered if maybe I should have said something to break the awkward silence.

Instead, I set my briefcase down on the floor beside the desk and grabbed a black dry erase marker to start writing out the beginning of my lesson plan.

As I wrote, the unnerved noise-making turned into bags unzipping, notebooks shuffling, and pages turning. That was a good sign. At least I knew from that that my students were attentive and ready to learn. I was about to write the third bullet point and throw some examples on the board, but I kept getting this nagging feeling that someone was staring at me. I shook it off and went back to writing.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone’s eyes were affixed to my back, in a way that was a little too intent. I turned around and, in a flash, I saw a familiar face in the second row. A deeply familiar face.

McKinley.

My blood instantly went cold, and my stomach started flipping over and over again. A lump formed in my throat, and if I couldn’t talk before, I surely wouldn’t be able to talk now. A full-on chemical reaction was occurring right there in front of everybody, to the point it could have counted as their first lesson.

I grappled with the thought of just running straight out of the room, but I couldn’t because then I would have to explain to the administration why I had abandoned my first class. The window to the right of me was looking very tempting, and I envisioned myself toppling right out of it. I wanted to hide under my desk and never come out again, but that was cowardly, plus that wouldn’t make sense to the students, although I could argue I had a sudden bout of sickness. My mind raced with all these possibilities, but then I realized I hadn’t even introduced myself yet, and McKinley wasn’t the only one awkwardly staring at me anymore.

“Good morning, students,” I started off shakily. I hoped my trembling voice wasn’t too detectable. “I know on your schedules it says that Professor Cates would be your instructor for this class. My name is… not Eliza Cates…” I laughed discordantly. “My name is Professor Knight Ramsay. And you may be wondering what happened to Professor Cates. Uh, unfortunately she suffered an illness over the summer and she will have to take an indefinite leave of absence. So… I mean… but you’re in good hands. I promise.”

If you listened carefully, you could almost hear the faint sound of crickets chirping in the background. No one uttered a word.

“Okay, well with that being said, let’s dive right in.” Wrong choice of words. My eyes shot to McKinley, and I thought for sure that I was going to puke all over my feet. “Just to let you guys know, one thing I don’t do in my classes is go over the syllabus, so hopefully you read over that on your own time. Nothing has changed with that, I’m pretty much sticking to the same curriculum that Professor Cates was going to adhere to. Of course, there’s a few minor adjustments, but everything will pretty much be the same for the most part. So.”

I clapped my hands together in hopes of sparking life into this dead crowd, but they didn’t react. “Chemical formulas . . . um . . . let’s begin with an example . . .” I swallowed nervously, an annoying invisible force trying to pull my gaze in McKinley’s direction. I took the marker and began scrawling a bunch of elemental symbols on the board. I paused and stared at the jumble of random letters and quickly erased it. “Okay, you know what... uhh… instead of… um…”

I was trying so hard not to look at McKinley, but the more I struggled with this lecture, the harder it became. I really wanted to see her facial expression and how she saw me in this moment, all fumbling and ungraceful and opposite of charming. But if I turned around and looked at her, I knew that would be the end of any focus I had. So, all I could do was buckle down and hope for the best.

Or, at the very least… that I wouldn’t make a complete ass of myself.

After nearly an hour of bumbling lecture, I decided that my students had suffered through quite enough of my drabble.

“Okay guys, I’m going to dismiss you all a little early. We’ve covered quite a bit this first day, and I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

The hubbub of post-class chattering started back up again, contending with my voice, which I had to raise the volume of so my students could hear the rest of my message. “Don’t forget to read pages 158-176 in your textbooks, and answer the review questions on page 177,” I said, as the class gathered their belongings and got up to leave. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to email me.”

I didn’t see McKinley anywhere within the exiting crowd, and I figured she’d gotten swallowed up in the mob. I hoped that I would see her again, though, so I could talk to her. I never in a million years imagined she could be one of my students, and I needed her to know that. In the meantime, I distracted myself by scrubbing the whiteboard clean of all the scientific formulas I littered it with and placed all my books and teaching materials into my briefcase. All the students were completely cleared out now, and I found it amazing how quickly college students could desert a room when class was over.

I headed out of the classroom, but then, to my left was McKinley, standing against the wall with her books pressed against her chest.

“Hey,” she said, her seafaring eyes filled with anxiety.

I knew how she felt…