My Professor

4. Office Hours

By the end of the week, my courses are going well, but Chemistry was already proving to be just as difficult as I expected. I gave my homework my all over the weekend, but when Monday came I still had a few questions about the work. It was becoming increasingly clear that I'd be better off just stopping by Professor Callahan's office to clear things up instead of continuing to struggle through the work.

I thought about asking the professor my questions after class, but there was a small group forming around his podium and I decided I'd be better off being patient and just show up at his office during his office hours. I waited until the late afternoon, around 6pm, and approached his open office door, which was just down the hall from the classroom. I poked my head inside the door.

"Excuse me," I said to Professor Callahan, completely stricken, yet again, by his good looks. He was seated at his desk, looking over a stack of paper, when he looked up at me. His face, as always, was so pleasing to look at. I wondered if I'd ever get tired of looking at him.

"Hi! Welcome!" he greeted me, standing. "Come on in."

"Thanks," I replied, entering the room. It was empty, except him and me. "I just have a few questions about the homework, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. That's what I'm here for," he smiled.

I pulled out my homework packet from my folder, which I already had out and ready, and stepped closer, stopping at the edge of his desk.

Professor Callahan stood and stepped around the desk, standing next to me so he could look over my shoulder at my homework. I tried to focus on explaining myself and not on the pleasing scent of his cologne.

"Do you mind?" he asked, extending his hand for my sheet.

"Oh, not at all," I nearly stammered as I handed him my paper. He set it on the desk and pulled a pen from the pencil cup on his desk before beginning his explanation, annotating my work as he spoke.

"Oh! That makes a lot more sense," I nodded as he finished speaking, still wrestling with my level of focus.

"I'm glad I could help," he smiled, absentmindedly handing me his pen.

I took the pen and tucked it in my backpack along with the folder containing my work.

"Thanks for helping me out, Professor Callahan," I said.

He chuckled, "If you'd like, you can still call me Theodore."

"Oh! Okay," I replied, blushing slightly. "Thanks."

"Hey, Theodore," a slight brunette said, poking her head into the door. "Got a second?"

"Just a moment," he said, then turned to me. "This is Marcy, my TA."

Marcy smiled and waved.
"Nice to meet you," I said, aware that I was suddenly in the way. "I'm good, actually. I'll just..."

"Sure," Theodore said.

"Thanks for helping today," I said again as I stepped toward the door.

"It's no problem," he replied. "Feel free to stop by again if you need anything."

"Thanks, I will." I gave Marcy a courteous smile as I shuffled past her, back into the hallway.

I heard Theodore ask her what she needed just before I forced myself to walk away.

* * *

The following week of classes passed without much incident. I went to class, kept up with my homework, and work my shifts the Riverview Books. My chemistry work was going well so I had no reason to speak to Theodore, inside or outside of class. I can't deny it put a damper on my week, and as much as I tried to keep him out of my thoughts, it was difficult. I didn't help that I got to see him in class three times a week, even though he never took notice of me. I enjoyed listening to his lectures and I took thorough notes, hanging on to his every last word.

Sometimes, however, I found myself struggling with my focus. It was easy to get lost in Theodore's smooth, pleasing voice during his confident  and concise lectures, and my mind often wandered back to the few brief moments we'd had alone together. I bitterly wondered how long I could've stayed and talked to him had Marcy not interrupted. Not that it mattered - he was my professor, and I was sure he had plenty of better things to do than spend all evening talking to me.

After a while I stopped chastising myself for my fantasies. They weren't hurting anyone and there was no way of Theodore ever knowing of how often I daydreamed about him. It was a classic case of what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

I kept my mouth shut around Maria, though, since I felt that talking about would do nothing but fuel the situation. Theodore was someone I could never have, and as much time I spent thinking about him, I felt it would be irresponsible to make the situation worse.

"Are you coming by my house for the party tomorrow?" Maria asked as we exited American Lit together that Friday afternoon.

"I'm still thinking about it," I told her.

"Come on, Indy! It'll be fun," she pleaded.

"I'll let you know how I'm feeling tomorrow," I insisted. I didn't want to commit to anything I could potentially regret. I was an introvert and somethings I simply wasn't in the mood so socialize, much less at a massive college party.

"You are such a pill," she said, nudging me playfully.

"And you aren't?" I chuckled. "Just think about how I feel."

"I do," she said. "I'm just trying to help you spread your wings."

"I know, I know," I said. "You always mean well. Just give me a little more time to think about it. I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Maria said. "But if you flake, you totally owe me."

"I am so sure," I laughed. "We'll see about that."