“Uh, not sure I am quite up for inquisition just now,” I said, looking at neither Mr. Weber nor Zayden, and instead focusing hard on the concrete below me. I didn’t even notice how hard I was clutching onto my dress until my palms started to hurt.
“What do you mean you’re not up for inquisition?” Mr. Weber asked completely perplexed. He was used to a very different version of me altogether. I wished there was a way to communicate to him that I would rather swallow a vile of rat poison than be in that room without offending him. “Are you feeling alright?”
There was my cue. No, say no, Aria. It would then be easily over with and I could probably escape and not have to deal with this whole ordeal. But I froze, unable to say a single word. I made a feeble attempt at shaking my head but I doubt it looked like anything other than an involuntary shudder.
“You seem pretty alright, Miss… Aria, was it?” I heard Zayden’s voice.
“Yes, Aria Roberts. She is one of our best and brightest,” Mr. Weber said proudly. “In fact, I am not sure you know – you have thousands of employees after all – but she is already advancing her career in banking by working as a teller at South National.”
“Ah,” Zayden said, flashing me a look of pure amusement. “That’s where I know that face from! It all makes sense now. I am glad to hear young talent like yourself works for me, Ms. Roberts.”
There was a definitely intonation in his voice – especially a stress in the words talent and works, like he wasn’t quite talking about my skills in banking.
“Since you were the least eager to answer my questions, I suspect you will be the most honest in your responses.” He looked at Mr. Weber. “Should I proceed?”
“Of course! Ask her anything!” he exclaimed.
“These questions are basically a screening of how much your students have learned before I go on to speak about my own experiences. I want to tailor them to what is relevant to your students. As such, complete honesty about the material covered is essential.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked, still looking at Mr. Weber.
He shook his head. “No, no, not here. It would be best if I could speak with you briefly in private, for maybe fifteen minutes, so you feel more comfortable answering with honesty. My questions will pertain to this class too, and perhaps there are things you wouldn’t want your professor and fellow classmates to know.”
“I am perfectly comfortable right here, thanks,” I snapped, unable to handle it anymore. Hopefully nobody caught the bitterness in my voice, and even if they did, there was no way they could guess what it was about. “You can ask me anything,” I added more evenly. “And you will get a honest answer. There is nothing I have to say about Mr. Weber or this class that he wouldn’t like to hear.”
“Be that as it may,” he pushed. “Participation bias is a serious psychological effect, and to get the best out of all of our times here, we must have an audience in private. Is that okay, Mr. Weber?”
Now he was trying to be professional.
“Of course it is!” Weber exclaimed. “Aria, why don’t you show Mr. Sinclair the conference room and answer any questions he may have. Meanwhile, I will prep the rest of the class on questions we may have for him in turn and make a list. You can add yours to it after you return.”
“Uh.” I was trapped. There was no way to get out of this without raising suspicion or getting into Mr. Weber’s bad books, which was something I simply could not afford. Zayden’s little game was not worth my grades and academic performance. It was in my best interest to suck it up and show him the “conference room.”
“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s go then, Mr. Sinclair.” I added emphasis on those last words.
“After you, Ms. Roberts.” He looked thrilled. Why wouldn’t he? After successfully ignoring him at his own bank, he had found a way to get to me by showing up at the one place where he knew I had to keep my cool. It must have been easy for him, calling up the Econ department head and asking to make a guest lecture. He knew what classes I was taking from when I was discussing schoolwork with him so he must have just easily dropped the name of the most relevant class I was in and the departmen
t head must had exploded in delight. I was starting to feel lightheaded just from thinking about it.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Zayden started chuckling. “How was that?” he whispered.
I said absolutely nothing until we reached the nearest empty conference room. When we walked in, I closed the blinds and locked the door so nobody could hear us.
“Really?” he said with a smirk when I turned to look at him. “Here? Now? I’m flattered, sweetheart, but I suppose they are waiting for us back in your classroom.”
My face went red from a combination of anger and embarrassment. I wanted to punch him, or hurt him in some way for pulling this crap. But for some reason, words just choked up in my mouth as I watched his face light up. Why did Zayden Sinclair have this effect on me? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resigned to not let myself be charmed by his ways once again.
After gathering a considerable amount of courage, I said, “What do you think you’re trying to pull here? Really Zayden? Don’t you think you have crossed a line by showing up in my class?”
The hint of amusement was still in his eyes when he said, “Don’t you think it’s a little egotistical of you to assume I came here for you?”
Oh shit. If it was possible at all, my face turned even redder than before, and I wanted to scream or cry or do something completely ridiculous to make all of this go away.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply–”
“Aria, just stop. Of course I am here for you. I’ve been trying to call you every single day! And I try to catch you at the bank, but you rush to the other direction at the very sight of me as though I am some kind of a monster. You left me no choice, did you?”
“Yes, I did,” I said, the anger replacing the momentary humiliation I had felt a few seconds ago. “I left you the choice to leave me alone. Why is this so hard to comprehend?”