The Autumn Prince

45. Lost In the Wake

"I know, I'm just stating my case. I'll accept whatever you decide."

"You shouldn't be putting me in the position to make a decision on your behalf at all." Her tone wasn't harsh, but I felt the reprimand. "Why can't you attend like every other student?"

I bowed my head, and it was only partly for show. Despite events that fell outside my ability to influence them, I felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, Professor Barnes, It's personal..."

"Please, Tom, just Kelly," she sounded weary more than upset, and sat back in her seat, losing a little of her formality.

"You know I have a condition," I began, "and the school officially classifies me as a risk." I didn't need to tell her that the nature of my problem had changed, at least not yet. She acknowledged and gestured for me to continue. "There have been... complications lately, and I'm afraid I could cause problems for the other students." That was putting it mildly. I congratulated myself on being deceitful without actually lying.

She raised an eyebrow and watched me through heavy lids, "Tom, you and I both know that's horseshit."

Her choice of words stunned me. I'd never even heard Kelly Barnes hint at an expletive, mild or otherwise. "No, it's—"

"Please don't insult my intelligence." She held up her hand. "If you don't want to tell me I wont push, but you are in full control of your faculties or you wouldn't be sending me flawless reports. I have seventeen grad students in molecular biology, and you're blowing the curve so badly I have to reconsider how I distribute test grades. I don't want to explain to the rest of them, who, incidentally, have managed to attend classes and maintain their labs, why they received B's and C's on perfectly acceptable term papers."

I sighed and nodded, certain she'd already made up her mind, and leaned forward in my seat, intending to stand.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"I'm sorry, Miss Barnes, I'll withdraw from your class on Monday and register a hiatus with the school office."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated, "Oh sit down, Tom, nobody asked you to quit. And call me Kelly."

"But you—" I stammered, confused.

"I said sit down. I asked if you were fully aware of what you were asking me to do, I never said I wouldn't help you." I took my seat again and nodded vaguely. The lights returned, insistent, and I had to blink them away. "If I do this for you, I expect you to perform beyond expectations."

I sat dumbly and she stared at me until I acknowledged her terms, "Uh... yes, Miss Barnes."

"You will arrive at six thirty every evening and work until eight."

"Yes, Miss Barnes."

She leaned over her desk and narrowed her eyes, "You will bring me a small coffee from the commissary with one cream."

I was dumbstruck for a few seconds because her posture gave me a clear view of her neckline. It wasn't indecent, I just never noticed how well—endowed—Professor Barnes was.

"Well?"

"Um, yes. Yes, Miss Barnes."

"And you will stop calling me Miss or Professor unless we're in front of other students. I'm not considering this because I'm your teacher. You are a rare talent, and the scientist in me will be damned before she lets you throw away your future over a few hours of class time. Since my reasons are personal, you will call me by my name, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Miss... uh, Kelly."

"Good," she sat back, smugly pleased, "We can start tonight if you like, or tomorrow if you didn't come prepared."