My Professor

39. Guidance

The hard plastic chair felt almost as uncomfortable at the blasting air conditioning in the small, well lit office. I sat in front of a large wooden desk waiting for Mrs. May, my guidance counselor, to arrive and start our meeting. Sitting there, rubbing my arms to help against the cold, felt like a walk of shame.

The door behind me slid open behind me and promptly clicked shut as Mrs. May shuffled by and took a seat at her desk. She was a kind, middle-aged woman who had a stern side which made it difficult for me to predict how the meeting would go. Well — I had a hunch how it was going to go.

"Hello," she said, "How have you been?"

"I'm good, thank you. How have you been?"

"I've been well, thank you," she asked as she pulled out a manilla folder from a file cabinet to the left of her desk. She set the folder on her desk, cracked it open and reviewed the documents inside. "How has your semester been going?"

"It's fine," I said. "My grades are up."

"I see that," she said. "Though that isn't unusual for you."

"No, I guess not," I replied, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Now, I've called you in today because the university administration has received a complaint. Allegedly, one of the faculty has been engaging in an inappropriate relationship with a student and you've been implicated as the student."

I stared at Mrs. May dumbly, completely mortified. I remembered what Huey said, though. Stay cool and collected. Don't assume the outcome. See where this went.

"Well?" she said, arching an eyebrow at me.

I knew Theodore. I knew he wouldn't lie, so I knew I'd have to do the same.

"Yes," I said simply.

"Yes, you've been involved with a member of the faculty?"

"Yes, I've been seeing a professor," I confessed.

"Who?"

"Don't you know already?" I asked.

"We would like to confirm."

"Callahan," I said begrudgingly.

"Well, Ms. Mears," Mrs. May said, flipping through the folder in front of her. "As I'm sure you can imagine, professors fraternizing with students is highly frowned upon. It's strictly against the rules."

I didn't say anything. I waited for her to continue.

"With that, I'm going to have to revoke your Chemistry credit from last semester due to conflict of interest."

"Conflict of interest?"

"We don't know if you earned your 87 honestly. It isn't fair to the other students for you to receive special treatment simply because you had a...special relationship with the professor."

"But, I earned that grade fair and square."

"There's no way to know that."

"I'm telling you."

"Regardless, you will need to retake the class. Now, there is a Chemistry class available in the summer that you can enroll in."

"Wait— so I can't graduate?" I asked.

"Not until you retake that class," Mrs. May said.

"But I earned that B fairly! I worked hard for it!"

"Ms. Mears, please calm down," she said. "I understand your frustration, but you must understand how things look from our end."

I quieted down, dejectedly sitting in my seat.

"Surely you didn't expect to behave in this manner without repercussions?" Mrs. May asked.

I looked at her but didn't respond.

"It's not too late to enroll in the summer class," she continued. "I strongly recommend you sign up as soon as possible so you can receive your degree in the fall."

"Yes, ma'am," I said politely. There was no point in arguing. The punishment was awful, but I was sure it wasn't nearly as bad as what Theodore was going to get.

"Is there anything else you'd like to share with us, Ms. Mears?" she asked.

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. May closed the folder on her desk. "Alright. That was all. If there's anything else you'd like to share, you're more than welcome to come back to my office."

"Thank you, Mrs. May," I said, rising from my seat. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Take care of yourself," she said. "Don't forget to sign up for your summer class."

As I walked out into the bright spring afternoon, I felt nothing but sinking guilt. Little felt worse than getting caught red handed. Although it wasn't clear how much they knew or who turned us in, I was grateful that the conversation wasn't as invasive as I thought it'd be.

I went back to my apartment and signed up for the summer Chemistry class. I still struggled to accept that I wasn't going to graduate with the rest of my classmates in May. I'd majorly screwed up. If only Theodore and I could've gotten through the last few months without this drama.

I wanted to know who'd turned us in; I didn't know what I'd do with the information. It wouldn't be right to get a pound of flesh — they were technically doing the right thing, even if they were actively ruining my life.

I sat on my bed completely bottomed out. I was miserable. I didn't have my man. I didn't have my degree. I had nothing. I didn't even have a shoulder to cry on.

I buried my head into my pillow and tried not to cry. I was unsuccessful, and for a while I allowed myself to wallow there, crying my eyes out. I'd really messed up and now my whole life was sideways. I had no one; no one except myself. And my poor decisions and I were the only ones to blame for my screwed up situation.