Moose and Goose

Chapter Eleven

"I'm sorry for ditching you for David, and I'm sorry for the way I acted in general," Judith tells Jerome with her attention on her hands. Her interlocked fingers are fidgety, and he's unable to avoid watching them.

"I told you it's okay," he reminds her, and she shakes her head.

"I know, but still. Lately, I haven't been acting like myself, and I hope that you don't see me as some - basket case." He positions his right hand under her chin, then nudges upward, so their eyes meet.

Staring into his soul sends goosebumps flying up her arms. Her stomach flutters as if a swarm of butterflies is inside.

"I hardly know you, and hopefully soon, you'll realize that I'm not quick to judge." He lowers his arm, and she stares at the gas pumps. "You keep looking away. Why?"

"I'm just - a shy person." She places her right hand against the back of her neck, caressing the length of her spine under her afro. Mary steps out of the store and sighs heavily. Jerome and Judith look at her.

"We should get to class. Those three are giving me a hurricane headache." She walks past them.

"I'll see you later," Judith tells him.

"Sounds good. I'll be in the student lounge after my next lecture in fifteen minutes. Hopefully, I'll see you there." He watches her chase after Mary without giving him a reply, his thumbs sitting in the pockets of his sweatpants.

***

"Thank you to those who turned in their homework. I'll see you all on Wednesday." Professor Chandler says with his back turned to his departing students. He's scrubbing his chalkboard with an eraser brush in his right hand but his body at a distance to avoid chalk dust staining his black button-up.

"Professor," Judith calls for him once they're alone. Professor Chandler sets the eraser in its place, and she stands from her seat, her hands against the strap of her bookbag. They look at each other. "I wanted to apologize to you for Friday."

"I'm listening." He approaches his desk, and she descends the few steps. He takes his seat just when she arrives before him, and he clears his throat.

"I was - well, am - dealing with my emotions, and sometimes they spin so out of control that I say things that I don't mean or, in this case, become hostile to my superior." She bangs her left hand's outstretched fingers against the right, and he glances at her gesture, then into her eyes. "I'm pretty passionate about my studies, though, but it's no excuse. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She exhales with relief, and he leans back in his chair. "I'm not one to mettle in my students' business, but can I ask you a question?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, sir." Her stomach anxiously twists. She folds her hands behind her back, straightening her posture.

"It was brought to my attention that you've been - getting into arguments with a boy here on campus. Miss. Jefferson," he pauses to lean forward and place his forearms against his desk. She confusedly narrows her eyes at him. "As your professor, I take pride in making sure that you and your classmates, and quite frankly the whole school, are safe."

"I don't understand," Judith mumbles. Professor Chandler sifts through the papers in front of him, and she watches him. "What's the question?"

"It's simple." He returns to her, his stern gaze driving phantom sweat down the back of her neck. "Why are you fighting with David Cambridge?"

"I wasn't fighting with him," she argues with a sudden shrill tone. He raises a brow, and she glances at the papers on his desk, clearing her throat. "He's my boyfriend. We don't fight."