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With it being a familiar university, you figured it would curb some of the anxieties you had about this.
Yet, you felt like a new student.
However, it had been a good couple years since you were a student of anything. This time it would be a role reversal where you weren’t the one sitting in one of the chairs in the lecture hall, hoping the professor had a good vibe about them and that the course material wouldn’t be too brutal. No, you were the one standing in front of that student and many others just like them. Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with the eight-in-the-morning stares of a way too early history course but the idea had your stomach twisting something bad at points.
You were in charge. You knew the material and you had your lecture notes, just had to…give a little introduction to yourself and the course layout and worry about the content the next day.
The thought pulled a small sigh from your nose, something grounding as another dull ding of the elevator told you that you were arriving at the floor you needed to be on.
Thankfully, the first thing you had was an office hour that could allow you to collect yourself before you started your day of lecturing. You weren’t expecting any students, not on your first day. The university was still pretty small, a few new buildings that hadn't been there when you had first attended, though you knew the office building was a bit of a mix and match. You knew you would be sharing the office space with someone, as it had been in your previous institution.
Walking down the hall toward the door you were looking for, having chanted the name a couple times coming in order to find it, you were greeted by a somewhat animated student stepping out of the door, talking quickly with someone sitting just inside. Well, there went your hopes of having the space to yourself for a bit. You tuned out the conversation for a moment, glancing up at the names beside the threshold of the door. Only two, your name, seasonal instructor, and an Arthur Morgan, Phd.
The name gave you pause, your eyes narrowing a moment as a small pang of familiarity hit you. Morgan. Morgan…
“Well I’m gonna go over that project in class, so don’t go worryin’ too much about it right now, alright?”
You glanced up at the voice, now much clearer as a man stepped out from the doorway as the student he was talking to slipped by you with a small nod and wave. His face hit you instantly, though you knew he had aged some over the last couple years. Little less lively, looking somewhat tired, despite the somewhat friendly and inquisitive stare he gave you in return.
“You here for the office hour?” he asked, “I got some time right now for a couple minutes, if that works. What course you in?”
“Oh, I’m not in any course,” you replied quickly with a small chuckle–he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or a little disappointed about that.
“I’m actually just looking to get into my office…” you continued, pointing slightly toward the empty desk space behind him.
“Oh,” he replied, the surprise that touched his expression a little amusing, “Ah, right–course you ain’t. I’m sorry, it’s been…a mornin’.”
“Yeah, I can relate,” you said, stepping in after him once he had turned with a somewhat heavy sigh.
You placed your things down on the desk, letting out a small breath through your nose. This was an interesting turn of events. You knew you might run into the professors you had been taught under, coming to teach at the college, now university, that you had got your degree from before moving on. He had aged a bit in appearance from what you remembered of him, but you recognized his voice. Out of all the people you could have been sharing office with, it was that old professor you had wished you could have strangled when you were a student.
Taking a Fine Arts course for the credit had been required for your degree, and taking a fundamentals to traditional drawing had seemed like easy credit. Maybe it would have been, if it hadn’t been Arthur teaching it. He had seemed nice enough–laid back teaching style, admittedly nice to listen to and you had certainly heard enough comments about how he wasn’t hard to look at either. Yet, when that first project rolled around, things changed. Sandwiched between a couple heavily essay focused courses, trying to work on a drawing seemed easy enough that you hadn’t given it much thought, and he had been quick to kick you in the teeth for it. The grade had been bad and his comments seemed…overly nit-picky at the time. His previously laid back attitude had started to come across as arrogant to you soon after, making him your least liked professor that semester.
You had finished his course decently enough after that, making it a semester goal to make the final project to his liking as a sort of metaphorical flipping off. ‘I am listening and did retain your lessons, you ass.’
You had drank after finals to moving on from his course.
“You teach here before?”
The question pulled you from long dead and buried frustrations, your gaze lifting from one of your lesson plans toward where he was leaning back against the chair. You wanted to laugh–if only he knew.
“No, this is my first year here at least. I did teach at another institution in the city for a couple years, but got a better deal here.”
“That explains it,” he said with a small nod, pausing a moment before he extended a hand out toward you, “Arthur Morgan, Fine Arts professor.”
Yeah, you knew.
“History. Seasonal, for now,” you replied after gripping his hand, followed by your name.
There was a touch of something in his expression, a slight narrowing of his eyes. You thought for a moment that it clicked and he remembered you. However, if he did, it wasn’t commented on as you broke the handshake, turning back to his work after a small grin and nod.
A part of you was feeling somewhat grateful for the conversation being dropped.
After the first initial weeks, putting names to faces and breaking into the course material, things started to fall into place for you a bit more.
Really, it started to feel more like how it was at your other institution. Though, with it being a smaller university, that meant smaller classes. Your introductory ones were a little fuller with people taking them for the required credit, your higher level ones thinning out a bit. However, that wasn’t a terrible thing, those courses starting to feel a little more relaxed than your others and it put less on your plate in the long run.
Your continued office hours with Arthur were going alright, too. The two of you managed to work around each other, knowing you tried to tune out the conversations he had with his students and Arthur doing the same with the odd one that would come to you for advice. However, from the office hours you remembered having with him, the ones he had these days seemed a little more…forgiving. Granted, you had avoided going to him for anything while you were a student likely on pride alone, but the odd time you had it was an experience that you had wanted over with quickly.
Perhaps he could tell. Still.
Yet, there was the odd time you would be interrupted by his cellphone and the odd grumble about it, Arthur usually hurrying out of the room to answer it. There was the odd time he would shoot you and/or the student you were advising an apologetic smile before slipping out.
You didn’t want to dip into his personal life. He had his good days and bad days.
Though, you really weren’t expecting to walk in on it.
The campus had a small coffee shop that it seemed both professors and students frequented, yourself included during the time you had between classes to eat. However, you were surprised to see a familiar figure waiting in line, talking quietly into his phone. You really didn’t want to surprise him or eavesdrop, but with how the line was currently set up, it was kind of hard not to.
However, much as you had your gripes about him from your time as a student, you wanted to respect his privacy. Still, he seemed to be in some heated argument with someone, his tone quick and stiff. You were somewhat familiar with it, though not in this context. Yet, he fell silent as the other person on the line seemed to talk, Arthur bowing his head as he ran a hand across his face.
Though, you found your gaze dropping as he seemed to look around himself as he listened. His gaze landed on you for a moment before he continued on in a more even tone with his conversation, seeming to wrap it up as he hung up with a sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to look as awkward as you felt.
“The food here any good?” he asked, casting you a glance over his shoulder somewhat. You pulled your gaze away from his own to glance toward the menu, twisting your mouth to the side somewhat.
“I think they’re locally made, so I don’t want to say anything bad. Could be worse, I haven’t gotten sick or anything.”
Arthur hummed lightly, somewhat amused but it wasn’t hard to see the tension lingering.
“Well, it’s either this or nothin’ for me today, so guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“The coffee seems to be the popular choice, anyway,” you continued, shrugging before glancing down at your phone to check your email a moment while you waited. A couple automatic reminders, students telling you of sickness, and a few questions you still had to answer.
“You wanna eat with me?” Arthur asked, causing you to glance up with slightly raised eyebrows.
“Sure, why not?” you replied with a small shrug. You were colleagues, it wasn’t some taboo thing.
Not that you were thinking of him in any other way. That train of thought pulled a small tightness to your brow, a frown tightening somewhat on your face. You really didn’t want to think too deeply on it, but being back on this campus pulled a lot of interesting acknowledgements forward. Perhaps you had to set aside your judgement you had made of him as a teacher, and…well, there had been a part of you, even back then, that had wanted to impress him. You had told yourself it was some wounded pride, yet you had to wonder why it was that class. It had been something taken just for the credit.
Maybe we should stop carrying on like a child.
You placed your order, picking up the coffee and one of the pre-made sandwiches from the stand before following Arthur toward one of the free tables.
“I…I’m sorry ‘bout the phone calls,” Arthur said after a moment once you had sat down across from him, causing you to raise your eyebrows slightly before shrugging.
“They’re not as disruptive as you think,” you replied around your own shrug, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Universe seems to know when you’re around so you can witness ‘em…” he muttered into his own cup, removing the lid as he tested the heat of the beverage.
You watched him for a moment, knowing you should just leave it at that. Enjoy your food, at least as much as you could, and move on. Yet, you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek, the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup warming the tips of your fingers as you hovered your hand around it.
“…You okay?” you asked, bracing yourself to pull back if you crossed some sort of boundary.
Arthur glanced up at the question, meeting your gaze for a moment before dropping it again and shrugging as he took a sip from his own cup.
“Sure,” he replied, leaning back in the chair somewhat, “Just…some personal issues. It’ll be resolved in a couple weeks, can just…move on from it.”
“It can be hard to leave that stuff at home,” you replied, nodding your head, “Went through the ringer myself in my second year teaching.”
Arthur let out a small sound from the back of his throat, something close to agreement. You started to eat a little in the silence that followed, though the admission that followed had it hard to keep the touch of surprise out of your expression.
“I’m gettin’ a divorce,” he stated, not looking up from where he was studying the surface of the table.
“…I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied after a moment, watching his expression as he shook his head.
“Picked the worst month for it, feels like I’m goin’ through the motions here with all that in the back of my mind. Ain’t so bad when I know I’m not gettin’ a call in a bit, but feels like she’s expectin’ me to drop everythin’ because she’s still tryin’ to move out. I know my schedule isn’t makin’ that easy.”
“That’s…messy business,” you replied with a small nod, glancing down. “I, uh…I got cheated on a couple years back in the middle of a semester. Had to try to run a lecture during the same week, fielding the…stupidest questions while holding that in my chest and had to look the bastard in the face at the end of my days trying to split up our stuff. It really feels like you’re going through the motions, but…it’ll feel more natural again after a while. Though, I imagine I went a little hard on undeserving students during that point.”
“Hell I’m probably doin’ it, too,” Arthur returned, causing you to chuckle lightly.
“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why’s that?”
You glanced back up at him, a small grin pulling at your expression as you raised your eyebrow. “You really don’t recognize me, huh?”
The completely confused expression that tightened his expression almost had you laughing again, Arthur taking a moment to really look at you. Being under his gaze had you almost wanting to squirm and glance away, but you had started this whole thing. Eventually, there was a shift in his expression, his head lifting somewhat before he was leaning back.
“You were in one of my classes,” he stated around a small huff, causing you a nod with a grin bit back.
“A good couple years back, yeah,” you said, “You made it hard to forget, considering I was pretty convinced you made it your mission to rake me over the coals for a fundamentals to drawing course.”
You were expecting some defensive remark, for him to lean into that small voice in the back of your head that told you that you hadn’t really applied yourself in that class until he forced you to. Yet, he just ducked his head slightly, letting out a small huff of a chuckle.
“…I was a bit of a cocky bastard when I was younger,” he replied, “Might’ve been feelin’ a little showed up by some of my students. Y’know, ‘those who can’t do, teach’.”
“Ah, I’m sure that’s not true,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck somewhat, “Though, I’m happy to see you stepped off that a bit over the years.”
“Sure,” he said, meeting your gaze with a small grin pulling at his lips, “Though, I grade fair. Always have.”
“Yeah, well…I might not have been giving much of an effort until you showed me that wasn’t going to work. I thought it would be easy credit.”
“Well, guess we both had somethin’ goin’ on with that.”
“…It was still an introductory course.”
“Alright, alright.”
You both shared a bit of a chuckle after that, the tension somewhat stepping off. You weren’t so foolish to think it wouldn’t exist after, but it felt nice to sidestep some awkwardness about you having to share space with him multiple times a week. You shared some small talk about your classes for a while before separating to finish off your days.
Though, when you returned to your office to collect some things, you found a note sticking to one of your folders that you hadn’t put there. Pulling it off, you were met with unfamiliar handwriting.
I feel like I crossed a line today by telling you all of that. If I did, I’m sorry. Still, I didn’t get the chance or really thought to say so, but thank you for listening. - A. M.
This really wasn’t turning out to be your day.
A hell of a day, too. The last day before a reading week and you could tell most of your students had checked out, something you were close to doing so yourself. Teaching a class at seven at night was always a bit brutal, but after knowing your car had sputtered out a final goodbye as you were pulling up to campus that afternoon and that you would have to take the bus home? Well, it sucked.
You let out a tired sigh as the elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed, planning on just picking up a couple things from your office for the break before taking this adventure home. The evening was darker than you had been expecting with the rain that had come over the afternoon, falling steadily now as you noticed through one of the windows in the open doors you passed. Great.
Though, you were surprised to see a light on in your office. You had been under the impression that Arthur’s classes had wrapped up well over a couple hours ago, catching him moving between reading something and checking his computer in the light of the desk lamp. Pausing at the door, you couldn’t help but curse your luck somewhat.
You could admit that things had been pretty well between the two of you after that one lunch, even having a couple more over the months that followed. Perhaps things even started to lean a bit into a solid friendship, though it was hard to deny that small part of you that spoke to some type of attraction toward him. It really was something you kept shoving down as the days went along–he just got divorced, you should just keep things somewhat distant from that. Yet, it was hard not to notice the growing closeness, the shared jokes, the knowing looks and smiles when getting done with dealing with particularly difficult students.
At the moment, however, you really just wanted to pick up your things and wallow in a bad day on a bus ride home.
Yet, it was hard to do so in a particularly silent building, walking over to your desk and rummaging through your folders had him jumping slightly, glancing in your direction before letting out a breath.
“Christ, could’ve knocked or somethin’,” he remarked, causing you to glance his way somewhat sheepishly.
“Sorry, just needed to grab this.”
“You usually workin’ this late?” he asked as you turned around, placing your things down on the desk beside you.
“This semester, yeah. I just got done with my last class,” you replied, shaking your head, “Now it’s just a long bus ride home. Hell of a way to start my break.”
“You takin’ the bus? In this?” he asked, glancing toward the window with the heavy droplets of rain still hitting the pane.
“I don’t have a choice,” you said with a shrug, “My car gave up after driving here, I had to get it towed.”
“Well…” he started around a sigh, glancing back toward his things before checking the time on his laptop. You caught onto the next part of his statement, your hands raising somewhat at your sides.
“It’s not really a big deal, you don’t need to offer…”
“You guessin’ my words before they leave my mouth?” he returned around a small huff, glancing back toward you, “Where in the city do you live?”
“Just a little outside it, about fifteen minutes from here,” you replied, “By car, at least.”
“That ain’t too bad,” he replied, “I can drive you–if you’ll let me.”
“…Well, I’m not exactly excited to be taking the bus at night and standing in the rain,” you remarked around a soft chuckle, “I…wouldn’t mind that, I guess. I’ll have to return the favor someday, if I can.”
“Eh, sure. It’s fine. Just give me a couple minutes here.”
You nodded, feeling a touch of relief at not having to take the long way home, yet there was now a twist of anxiety about taking this car ride with him. Things had been pretty friendly and professionally distant for some time, the odd line stepped over every now and again but nothing extreme. Now this?
It’s a sweet gesture, you thought as you flipped open one of the essays you had to grade over the week break, there’s probably nothing more to it.
Still, you found yourself accepting it in the long run anyway, following him down toward the car park a couple minutes later. A bit of a beat up old truck, actually, though it still looked modern enough–which you should have expected from him. Much as he was spending his day teaching artistic young adults, he still had a way about him that made him stick out a bit. You knew you hadn’t been expecting the southern drawl when you had him as a professor those years ago.
“Air conditionin’ sucks, but the heater’s good at least,” he remarked as you climbed into the passenger seat once he had unlocked the door for you, “Though, considerin’ the night, that’s probably for the best.”
“Good winter car, at least,” you remarked, doing up your seat belt as he fiddled with the air and radio a moment. You could pick up on the familiar voice of the local talk radio host, something your own father listened to quite a bit.
Interesting choice, you thought while trying to hold back a chuckle.
Arthur started up the truck, finally pulling out from campus as you gave him your address. Really, it was hard not to feel a little awkward to be sitting in his car like this, much as you were grateful for the offer. You tried not to give into the urge to dig around, a nervous habit–always had to do something with your hands. Instead, you let the lull in conversation fall off somewhat as you listened to the rumble of the engine, the faint voice of the radio host, and the rain against the roof and windows. Still, you couldn’t really help yourself–
“You really are a lot more modern cowboy than I had been expecting,” you commented, earning a quick laugh, something genuine.
“Yeah, goes a little deeper than the accent. Just the way I grew up.”
“So how’d you end up here?” you asked, glancing toward him. You were aware it was a bit of a bold question, but you had been feeling a little more comfortable about that lately. With him, at least. It was something you could overthink later (or kick yourself over later if he brushed it off.)
“What, the city?”
“Sure, teaching.”
“I can draw,” he said around a small chuckle, “Had a friend get my foot in somewhere, allowed me to get into college and it took off from there.”
You nodded, taking that in. You knew he really wasn’t all that older than yourself. You had started college as a mature student after giving up on the idea for a while, going back after you found yourself considering it again.
“I wish I had a more interesting story, but mine lines up pretty well with that,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “Minus the foot in the door, but I had a couple people push the idea after drifting around a bit after high school.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty common,” he remarked.
“Thanks for doing this, by the way,” you said after a beat, “You could have left it at a ‘that’s too bad’ and let me sort it out, and I wouldn’t have been mad.”
“Eh, it’s nothin’,” he said, glancing toward you for a moment, letting out a small sigh through his nose as he looked back out at the road. “Don’t have anythin’ waitin’ on me back home, anyway.”
You hummed, nodding your head lightly as he seemed to let the conversation fall again at that. You noticed the tightening of his hands on the wheel for a moment after. The written words of that little note sat in your mind a moment–more about crossing lines. Really, you found yourself wanting to ask how he was doing with all of that. You had noticed the phone calls had become less, Arthur’s energy picking up a little but it was hard to tell sometimes if he really was doing alright. Still, if he wasn’t going to expand on that, you weren’t going to push it.
Really, the weight of the day seemed to press down on you a bit, making it hard to keep up with heavy conversation anyway. You watched the scenery roll by, familiar at this point. Eventually, you could pick up on the landmarks that suggested that your neighbourhood was coming up. You directed him around the turns until the familiar building came into view, Arthur pulling up into the driveway.
“Well, this is it,” you said around a somewhat tired sigh, “Thank you, again.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he returned.
You paused a moment, knowing you should just open the door and get out. However, his little offhand comment seemed to sit in your mind for a moment, making you bite the inside of your cheek. You knew you were going to leave it be, yet–
“You, um…are you going to be okay?” you asked, meeting the somewhat confused look he had been settling you.
“Oh–yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he returned quickly, waving a hand. “Not even sure why I said that, just slipped out. I’ve been…gettin’ used to it again, you don’t need to worry.”
“Well…in the vein of saying things we maybe shouldn’t say, I do find myself wondering about how you’re doing anyway,” you replied, “But alright. I’ll see you after the break.”
You opened the door at that, stepping out into the cold spray of water before shutting the door. You knew your last words were bold, but you had found yourself saying them anyway. Perhaps a part of you wanted him to know that someone did care. However, you didn’t get to linger too much on that thought as Arthur’s voice cut across from the driver’s side of his truck.
You paused as he lowered his window, stepping back toward him as he leaned against it somewhat.
“I…you’re free to forget I even asked, but you doin’ anythin’ for the break?”
You blinked against the slight sting of rain in your eyes for a moment before shaking your head with a shrug, feeling the wetness starting to soak into the neck of your shirt and jacket.
“You want to…I don’t know, get coffee? Have a meal?”
“…Is this as friends? Colleagues?”
“Well…I wasn’t quite thinkin’ of it that way,” he remarked, almost lost to the sound of the rain around you. You could feel your heart thud, a shiver ripping through you from the cold as you felt the rain soaking the top of your head but you could feel some heat touch your face.
“Alright, sure. Why not?”
The relieved grin that touched his face was almost enough to make your night. You knew there was a part of you that would question this, already feeling that pulling at the back of your mind as you put your cellphone number into his phone. He just went through a divorce, you didn’t want to deal with this if he was just looking to use you to sort through all of that.
However–well, it was just a meal. You could figure that out from how that goes. It wasn’t enough to quell your excitement, at least.
You would have laughed at the idea all those years ago that you would be willingly going on a date with Professor Morgan, bane of your existence, but the thought left a smile on your face for the night anyway.