A Complicated Web

Chapter One: After The Last Time

Kally Carmichael frowned, a pencil held in the space between her nose and lips. Something on her computer monitor didn't look quite right. She couldn't figure out what though, and it annoyed her. She frowned, impatiently pushing auburn hair back behind one ear. She really should have put it up that morning but couldn't find any of her scrunchies.

A scholarship student, she lived on campus with another girl who was easily five years older than her, though she'd never actually asked her age. It was awkward enough knowing she should technically still be a sophomore in high school, but she'd lucked out with a dorm mate who didn't seem to mind. She could have graduated secondary school sooner but chose to try and not stand out too much. Instead, she'd taken some classes online to keep from becoming too bored.

Most of her high school contemporaries were from poor backgrounds, just like her. And standing out too much tended to bring a lot of unwanted attention by means of bullying, mostly through taunting and cruel jokes never carried quite too far. It didn't help that she was one of the only white students who'd attended that particular institution. She felt thankful her current bunk mate didn't share the same mentality they had, even though she was still a few months' shy of turning sixteen.

"Is something wrong?"

Kally looked up at the visiting professor, who just happened to teach her programming class that semester. She hadn't caught where he was from. All she really knew about him was that he was old, with white hair and a weight of immense years about him. She suspected he was older than he looked, but, again, didn't bother asking. It wasn't polite. And if there was anything her father had taught her before he'd passed on, it was to be polite. Even her foster parents had adopted an environment demanding respect. It was as much a part of her as anything was. And yet, despite her not wanting to ask, she still couldn't help but feel like he was some kind of father figure. There was something decidedly familiar about him, though she knew she hadn't met him before this school year.

Kally sighed as she glanced back at the string of code on her monitor. "It's this algorithm," she confessed as she pointed to the equation in question. "It looks right but it doesn't feel right." She just hoped he didn't ask her to explain what she meant by that because she doubted she could. It made no more sense than the feeling of surety that the equation was wrong. She'd copied it character for character straight off the white board as instructed, but it still didn't feel right. "I've double-checked it at least fifty times," she added, in case he thought she was just derping around.

Professor Othin peered at her screen with one scrutinizing eye. The other was covered by an eye patch. No one had been brave enough to ask why he wore it. Maybe he'd lost it in a fight or to cancer. It was anyone's guess. "I see," he mused, double-checking her work for himself. "And why don't you feel it's correct?"

She felt somewhat relieved he hadn't hinted that she'd thought him the cause of the mistake. He didn't seem like the type to make mistakes. But his attention still left her feeling out of her element. "Well," she hedged, reminding herself not to fidget. She didn't like drawing attention to herself unless she had to. "This part is alright," she pointed to the string. "But this character just doesn't feel like it belongs there." Her finger hovered over a delta sign.

"Hmm," the professor mused, pursing his lips. He rubbed at his beard, then returned his attention to his student. "It doesn't feel like it belongs," he said, repeating her words thoughtfully.

Kally couldn't help but fidget this time as his intense gaze seemed to look right through her. But it didn't feel creepy or anything like that. She had no words to describe the exact sensation, other than she somehow felt exposed, but not in a threatening way. It was almost as if he were looking at her soul and sizing it up. The unfortunate thing was the sensation, though not meant to be malicious, was decidedly uncomfortable.