NERDGASM (Camren)

Chapter-3

Lauren

By the time I pick up my scattered papers and make it to class, I've got barely a minute to spare. I readjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I enter and head toward the front of the lecture hall. As my steps bring me closer, I catch sight of Professor Styles . He's seated at the desk to the left of the podium that flanks the small stage, his head bowed low over a sheet of paper as he writes something down.

"Right on time," he says in greeting, his head still lowered. He lifts an arm and gestures toward the desk opposite him on the right side of the stage. "Thank you. Please set your things down and pull up a seat."

He finally raises his head, and his eyes find mine. His gaze is direct and piercing as he silently scrutinizes me. I can see how his unwavering stare would intimidate many, but after a lifetime of being looked at and mentally picked apart by my peers, I've learned how to keep my expression steady and not let it get to me.

I set my bag down on my desk and hold his stare as I move to stand in front of his desk. He raises a quizzical brow, so I reach forward with my hand and introduce myself.

"Lauren Jauregui. It's nice to finally meet you."

He extends his own hand, and we exchange a firm handshake. After a few seconds, he subtly nods his head, as if he's satisfied. "Harry Edward Styles."

Nodding my head in return, I move to take a seat close to his desk. He turns to look at me, and his assessing gaze takes me in for another moment before he speaks. "Have you ever TA'd for anyone before?"

"No, sir, but I've had classes with TAs before, and I took the TA orientation offered by the school."

His lips lift in a smirk. "Please, none of that 'sir' shit. You're not my student. I'm very demanding of my students, and I'll be demanding of you, but you can call me Styles or Harry . We'll be working together all school year, and I hope we can be on friendly ground, so no need for formalities. Also, you should know I have an open-door policy. Feel free to talk to me or swing by my office if you need to talk or just need a quiet place to grade papers."

"Okay, thank you." I'm a little stunned; this guy's as cool as he looks.

"We have a few minutes before class starts, so how about you tell me a little about yourself and I run through what I need from you? Sound good?"

"Sounds good," I answer with a smile.

I give him a brief background on my area of study and what I hope to get from the class, and he gives me a rundown of what he expects of me this semester, which doesn't seem out of the norm from what I've observed or learned. In addition to helping design some of the tests and course materials, I'll be grading assignments, working with students who need help, and possibly teaching a class or two. This last duty makes me slightly nervous. I try to avoid public speaking out of fear of triggering my stutter, which has been manageable the last few years thanks to taking Dr. Michaels's advice, and he seems to notice my apprehension.

"You have that look," he observes.

"What look?"

"The look that shows me you don't relish the idea of speaking in public."

"I'm not keen on it." He continues to stare at me, obviously waiting for me to elaborate. "I have a stutter. I've learned to control it most of the time, but if I'm anxious about triggering it, it's more likely to happen. I don't want to put myself at risk, so to speak."

Harry regards me thoughtfully before he responds. "I see. Well, how about we work on that confidence? No risk, no reward." He flashes me a quick smile, stands, and walks around to the front of his desk.