Teacher's Pet

me firmly rooted in real life. To have anyone, including Professor Bauer, point out that I was more like my creative, free-spirited mother turned my core to ice. I didn't want to resemble her in any way.

Thinking of her wild, long curls, I carefully tamed my hair into a low ponytail. The journalism professor all had offices on the top floor of Thompson Hall, and I ran up the steps two at a time. I took a moment to smooth down my pink sweater and catch my breath. Then, I knocked on Professor Bauer's office door and tapped my foot quickly on the hallway floor.

"Clarity, I'm not surprised." Ford checked his watch. "Actually, I am. Office hours are almost over. I thought you'd be here right away, ready to tear into me for your D+. As it is now, I was just getting ready to leave."

I shoved him aside and marched into his office. "Office hours are set, school policy, and I still have time. This is your office?"

The narrow, attic room was dominated on one side by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Straight ahead, a lancet window let in sunlight dappled by the ivy still clinging to the outside of the limestone building.

"What's wrong with my office?" Ford asked. "It's got everything I need: a desk, a couple of chairs, and I even have a little couch."

I looked at the sagging couch and opted for an old, wooden chair. "You have like five things on your shelves," I said.

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm still moving in. I work at home a lot." His gray eyes turned from smoke to metal. "And it doesn't matter how much time we have to debate, I'm not changing your grade."

I scooted to the edge of my chair as he sat down next to me. "You docked me for using flowery language. The assignment was to describe artwork."

"Precisely," he sighed. "The focus needed to stay on the artwork, not on your clever turns of phrase. The reader is not supposed to notice you as an author, but as the organizer of clear facts."

I sprang up. "Your rubric is unduly harsh. It's your responsibility to nurture my abilities and teach me new skills, not crush my spirit."

Ford's pupils dilated and twinkled as he smiled. "You don't look very crushed to me."

I forced my hands off my hips and stopped leaning over him. "I don't understand why journalism has to be so impersonal."

He sat up and stopped himself from taking my hand. Ford crossed his arms over his chest and nodded for me to sit down again. "Journalism isn't impersonal; in fact, the best writers of any genre keep the focus on the topic."

I sank back into the hard chair. "How?"

"A good way to learn is to write about something outside of your comfort zone. That way it's a new experience for both you and the reader, and you can learn how to present it that way." Ford grinned. "What can you try that you've never done before?"

I was distracted by his lips, by wondering how soft his black stubble would feel under the palm of my hand. I had never secluded myself in an attic office with an undeniably attractive man before. Leaning closer to catch the lingering smell of his soap would definitely be out of my comfort zone.

I shook the temptation off and reminded myself we were separated by the Landsman College Honor Code. "I don't know, but if I find something and write an article about it, will that raise my grade?"

"Sure, extra credit for breaking out of your shell." He held out a hand to shake.

His fingers were strong, his grip sure, and I had to say something to break the electric spell of his touch. "Have you been talking to my father? Because someone should tell him he might not actually like it if I start bending the rules."

"He might not, but I bet I will," Ford said. Then he broke our handshake and stood up to hold the door open. He cleared his throat. "Good luck, Ms. Dunkirk."

"Thanks, professor."

#

"All I'm saying is that it seems counterintuitive to bring me along while you go out of your comfort zone. An old friend is like a security blanket; everyone knows that." Lexi craned her neck to look up at the elaborate ropes course that stretched far off into the tree tops.

"I'll owe you, Lex. Home-cooked meals at the dean's house for a week," I said. "And maybe we don't actually have to get hoisted up there. Maybe I can just interview people and create the story that way."

"The new article that's going to erase that D+?" Lexi shook her head. "I really don't think a few points on your GPA is worth getting killed over."

"Alright, students, remember this trip to the ropes course is sponsored by Landsman College. As long as you participate, you represent our school, so let's show them how brave they make 'em up on the hill." Ford appeared from behind the Landsman College bus.

"Oh, now I get it," Lexi nudged me in the ribs. "Professor Hotness is chaperoning. Why didn't you say this was about more than extra credit?"

I rubbed my side and glowered at her mischievous smile. "I had no idea he was chaperoning this trip. Of all the crappy luck—"

"Partner up," Ford called.