Sitting in my study one Friday night, I was enjoying a glass of red wine while I looked over some of the mid-term essays from my four-oh-four course. Flipping through some of the remaining tests, I was pleased to see that there were only a few left. Counting them all, I noted that there were only seven in total. Meaning nearly half of the class had dropped- a happening that I was more than OK with. Now, if I could get it down to only three or four.

I leaned back in my high-backed leather chair, sipping my wine as I looked out of the study window at the stretch of houses outside of my window. My eyes tracked along the tall, packed bookshelves in the room, the many colors of their spines making an odd blur as my gaze moved over them. Letting the wine loll in my mouth, I allowed the Chopin piece that was playing on the study stereo drift over me. Mazurka in A Minor was the current piece- one of my favorites. I knew that I had plenty of work to get finished before the evening ended, but I allowed myself a moment of relaxation as I savored my wine, listened to the music, and allowed the tensions of the week to spool out of me.

A jarring bong sounded from my computer, jostling me out of my peaceful mood. Shaking my head and bringing myself back to reality, I turned my attention to my computer and saw that I had a new email.

It was from Jeffery Cohen, the head of the department. I opened it eagerly, wondering what Jeff would need at this late evening hour. I scanned over the contents of the email and saw that it pertained to a research project in the Czech Republic this summer. He wanted me to visit a village in the country over the course of a few weeks and gather some research information for a large study on Eastern European archeology that the department was putting together, as well as possibly collect material for a potential book.

I sat back in my chair once again as I thought it over. One the one hand, getting out into the field would be a welcome change of pace. On the other, I didn't look forward to the idea of being away from Darla for so long. I finished my wine and the rest of the papers, the pros and cons of the situation bouncing around the back of my head as I worked.

Finally, that next afternoon as I ate lunch with Darla on the back deck of the house, the three words that pushed me into accepting the project formed my mind. They were the three most important words for any academic.

Publish or perish.

Taking the summer off to pursue my own interests sounded lovely, but I knew that I putting my name on a project such as this would benefit my career more than anything else I could get up to during the summer. And as I watched Darla eat her lunch, I determined that solidifying my career as much as I could was the biggest priority of all.

After lunch I responded to Jeff, telling him that I was on board. He was pleased to hear this and told me to put together an ad for students, as I'd need an intern to come along with me and do the grunt-work that I might not have time for.

When I read this, I sat back in my seat, giving the matter careful consideration. Whoever I brought would need to be reliable, and not afraid of getting his or her hands dirty. They'd need to be able to take criticism and to know the work inside and out. And they'd need to be someone with whom I'd actually like to work with, especially considering the fact that this assignment would likely be a stepping stone to future work the department, possibly even a masters or Ph.D. It wasn't a matter to consider lightly.

I grabbed my laptop and went into the living room, spending a little time with Darla while I pondered the situation, thinking of students in class who might make good assistants. After a time, I put on a movie for Darla and sat on the couch with my laptop, typing up the ad. Once it was done, I fired off an email to all students in the department before closing the computer and watching the movie with Darla.

My eyes went wide when I opened my email when the movie was done; I was already receiving applications.

The next day, I decided to spend the afternoon going over the applications in some detail. Many of the students were promising, but after a few hours of looking things over, there was a clear front-and-center candidate.

Roxanne James.

I balked at this, thinking there must be some mistake that the girl who seemed so spacey and ditzy would be such a qualified candidate. After I took another look at her application, however, there was no denying it. Her qualifications were strong, her references were glowing, and her statement essay was well-crafted and thoughtful.

And it's true that she'd been showing much more of an effort in class. The more I considered Roxanne, in fact, the more I realized that I was letting my first impression of her shape my opinion of the girl far more than I should have. Still, I'd need to test her meddle.

The next day in class, I decided to put her to the test. We were going over some human anthropology questions, and I figured that this would be as good a time as any to see how Roxanne did under pressure.

"Mary and Louis Leakey…" I said, standing at the front of the room and moving from set of eyeballs to set of eyeballs. "Can someone here tell me, specifically, who they are and what they did?"

I snapped my eyes to Roxanne.

"They were the scientist couple who discovered Homo Habilis, meaning literally "tool-using man," when excavating Olduvai Gorge in Tanzania in the nineteen-thirties."

This was followed by a pleased smile. She knew the basics and handled the pressure well.

Later in the class, I gave her another little test.

"Now, as we all know archeology involves interpreting information from sifted layers of rock and dirt. Who can tell me the name of this subject?"

My eyes again went to Roxanne. She got the hint and raised her hand.

"That's stratigraphy, Professor McCall."

Perhaps I was a little premature in my determination of her intelligence.

This went on throughout the week. I challenged her here and there, and she was always ready with the right answer. It was an impressive display, though a little “teacher’s pet” for my tastes.

Soon, the semester was nearly at an end.

"Now," I said, looking over the five students that remained in the class, Roxanne still right in the middle her big green eyes looking up at me expectantly. "The semester is drawing to a close, as you all well know. I'm more than pleased with the few of you that managed to stick it out through it all; you should be proud of the work you've done. But the final exam is no joke, and you're going to need to study hard. Like everything else in this class, it's designed to separate the men from the boys, as it were. The study guide will be posted online tonight, and please feel free to let me know if you have any questions."

With that, the students left. My eyes tracked Roxanne as she left, my gaze lingering on her for just a little longer than I had intended. I shook my head at this, chiding myself for letting my baser instincts regarding my students take over, if even for a mere moment.

Still, I couldn't deny that she was quite attractive…

Regardless, it was time to put her to the test- literally. I decided that I'd make her test more difficult than the others, to see if she really had what it took to be my assistant. It was nearly time for me to decide, and she was still the strongest candidate.

All that remained to see was how well she'd handle the challenge.