Chapter Nine
Noah
Iris was late. Again.
I looked up at the clock hanging above the door with an inward sigh. For two weeks now, she seemed determined to push my buttons on being late by at least five minutes. I gathered that she lived on campus, or somewhere nearby with uppity brunette who was always attached to her hip whenever I spotted Iris in passing on campus.
And damn it to hell. It made me more attracted to her because she wasn’t like the other female students around campus. She had brains. She had talent, I’d give her that, and a backbone to back her quiet personality at times. It was refreshing to have someone like that in my class, challenging me and everyone else around her when it came to discussions about literature.
Despite the talent, something haunted her. I could see it in the guarded expression she had at all times. I could see it haunting her grades when I had written a bold F on the top of her latest exam.
She was starting to loathe me. That much I could see whenever I caught her gaze burning into me whenever I corrected her on something. It gave me a small bit of pleasure knowing it bothered her so deeply because I had her attention.
The door opened as it always seemed to do now five minutes after class begun. I chewed on the inside of my cheek when Iris stepped in to meet my gaze boldly. Her sand-colored hair was straight and hung loose about her shoulders in shimmering waves. Today, she wore large glasses to hide her puffy red eyes, and she quickly dropped her gaze when I arched an eyebrow in her direction.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know I’m late again.”
“You’ve been late six times,” I pointed out, nodding to her seat. “Take a seat, Ms. Paige. Do the walk of shame and get it over with.”
Iris refused to look in my direction as she made her way through the silent classroom to take a seat without uttering a reply. I took a deep breath and continued to talk about the exams I had graded the night before. I handed them back, and when I reached Iris’ test, I paused before handing it to her.
She held up a hand without looking at me, waiting wordlessly for it. I briefly wondered if she knew what the grade was before I set it in her waiting palm. I continued through the rows, pausing to offer compliments to the ones who did good.
The rest of the time, I let them talk about their reading assignment amongst one another. It gave me time to take in Iris’ rather agitated behavior as she flicked through the test, undoubtedly reading my note that I had left and not listening to the conversation about her.
What had happened to her?
I rubbed my jaw. I had my fair share of scars that I carried around deep inside of me. That’s why I loved writing. That’s why I loved rugby and teaching. They were outlets away from my fucked up family.
But Iris seemed unable to cope with whatever was chipping away at her. The world rested on her shoulders. Someone else’s world, I thought, clicking my pen absently. It had to be something pretty dramatic to make her so hostile toward me.
Not that I could ever get close enough to understand. I knew the rules just as well as she did as a graduating senior. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have those long, curved legs wrapped around my waist. The possibility of that made me harden slightly, and I had to shift in my chair to hide it.
Iris didn’t strike me as the type to blatantly break rules, even if she was purposely showing up late to my class. Certain rules were okay to break. Other rules cost your job and led to a ruined reputation.
I had to keep that in mind when Iris raised her head to look up at me. Her eyes narrowed at me in wordless irritation.
Once class concluded, I talked with a few lingering students who had come up to my desk to inquiry about the essay due on Friday. I spotted Iris standing impatiently behind a few freshman girls, and before she had a chance to bolt from the room, I smiled apologetically up at the students gathered in front of my desk.
“I’m sorry, ladies,” I said. “I have to speak with Ms. Paige before she goes to her next class. If you all need me, I have my planning period from 11:00-1:00.”
They left after shooting Iris a series of glares. She merely rolled her eyes at them. I waited until the classroom door clicked shut before folding my fingers calmly in front of me while I waited for the outburst.
“I don’t understand this,” Iris finally blurted out, flicking at the F on the paper. “Where did I go wrong, in your esteemed opinion?”
I didn’t even bother telling her to watch her tone. I doubted she spoke to other professors the way she spoke to me. I certainly didn’t mind it, either. It provided some wry amusement to see the effect I had on her, whether she was conscious of it or not.
“When was the last time you read Light in August?” I asked.
“A few years ago,” she replied, frowning at me. “I remember it, though, because Faulkner is one of my favorite authors.”
“Well, you got a few questions wrong on basic things. The deeper concepts you got easily.” I grabbed the test from her hand. “And, for twenty-two years of speaking English, you made basic grammar mistakes that I’d expect in a freshman student.”
Color filled Iris’ cheeks. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before finally letting out a ragged sigh.
“Okay. I should’ve read the book again. I’ll give you that.”
I nodded gravely. “Yes, you should’ve. You’re a graduating senior. You know better than skipping out on assignments.”
“Yeah, I know.” She pinched her nose in exasperation. “I just have a ton of things going on in my life right now and a few classes that are taking up all my time.”
“You’re an honor student. What else did you expect?”
“I didn’t expect anything else,” she replied, shoulders sagging down. “Look, I understand why you’re riding me,” I stirred in more arousal at those choice words, “but, all I need is a passing grade to graduate from here and to get out of Utah.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “Why do you want to leave Utah?”
“Personal reasons,” she said flatly. “I’m sorry for being late all the time, but I’m honestly just trying to get through these last few months. I just need a passing grade to leave.”
I leaned back in my chair to look up at Iris in contemplation. She returned my gaze pleadingly, but I had already my mind made up about what she needed to do.
“I can’t give you a passing grade just because you asked for one,” I said, and ignored her crestfallen expression. “Stop by my office later this evening for some tutoring. We’ll talk more about it then.”
“Tutoring?” she repeated dubiously.
“Yes,” I replied, nodding. “Tutoring. That is what I’m requiring you to do if you want to pass this class.”
She chewed on her bottom lip again; that instantly brought my attention to her ruby-colored lips. “There’s nothing else I can do other than that?”
I could see where other professors had fallen to this temptation. It was far too easy to suggest the many ways Iris could earn a grade in my class, but I needed this job. I needed it badly.
Clearing my throat, I glanced up at the clock above the door. “I’m afraid not,” I said, gathering my things for the next class I had in ten minutes down the hall. “Come to my office this evening, and we’ll do some tutoring and talk about your grade. That’s all I’m offering to you at the moment.”
“This is not going to be my day,” she muttered, shoving her test into her bag. Not uttering another word, she stalked out of the classroom without tossing me another glare or even a glance.
The door opened a second later to reveal a visibly amused Kale. “Your session with your senior go well?”
“Real well,” I chuckled. “Can’t you tell? I can hear her cursing my name from down the hall.”
“I have to give her props,” he said, shaking his head. “She has a spine to carry that personality beneath all that quiet demeanor. I heard a few other professors talk about her the other day. Iris Paige, right?”
“That’s her,” I said, looking up in interest. “What’d they have to say?”
“They said she’s talented and will go far with her writing if she chooses to go for it. Remind you of anyone?”
I sighed. “If you’re referring to me, then yes. She does remind me of myself as a graduating senior. What else did the other professors say? I barely get a hello every morning when I see them getting coffee.”
I didn’t expect friendships in the staff at PHU. Maybe general friendliness, but I hadn’t received any warm welcomes quite yet. I had taken a job that was apparently cursed in their eyes, but I wanted to yell at them, “For Christ’s sake! This position isn’t cursed or contagious. It’s a damn job.”
Kale looked a bit troubled about that. “They all see the same thing you do. There is something going on outside of her life on PHU that causes her to be distracted in class. She’s smart, but unable to commit to her academics.”
That part I could believe. It was hard getting her to focus in class and take the constructive help that she was in desperate need of.
“She needs to be open if she wants to be a writer,” I said, standing up from my desk. “You and I both know you can’t be closed-minded in this area. You won’t ever harness talent if you think you already know everything.”
“Haven’t you heard? Graduating seniors already know it all. They’re about to have a rough life slap in the face.”
I couldn’t argue with Kale about that. Leaving college behind had felt like a thick bubble bursting around me, but I had a gut feeling that Iris’ bubble had popped a long time ago. She carried a sense of reality about her that most college students lacked.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a wall when it comes to English,” I said. “I don’t understand how some of them can care so little about it.”
Closing the classroom door behind me, I looked down the brightly lit hallway to where my other freshman English students were already gathered outside the classroom door.
“It’s part of the job as a Freshman English professor,” Kale said, sighing. He walked with me until his office door before turning to look at me. “All incoming freshman have to take general classes to graduate. If they don’t care, that’s on them. We can only do so much besides give them a grade for either caring or not. Give them the grade they work for.”
He waved goodbye before disappearing into his office. I walked toward my class and plastered a fake smile on my face. I didn’t care if Iris fought me left and right about doing the work because she was a graduating senior and had a slew of personal problems in her life.
I was going to help her whether she wanted it or not.