Fake Marriage Box Set

“I think you still have time to drop the class. Maybe you can take up basket weaving or something more suitable to your interests. What are your interests, mister...?” I left the question open-ended, wanting to know the student’s name.

He didn’t give it.

“Uh, my interest is to play football. To do that, I have to go to class, so here I am.” He smirked.

“Lucky us. I imagine we will be fortunate enough to be blessed with your wisdom on all topics relating to the environment,” I said, spinning on my heel and heading towards the front of the class to resume my lecture.

My eyes met Tessa’s. She was fighting back a grin. I gave her a quick wink, shook off the anger Mr. Football had incited, and returned to the topic at hand. The majority of the students appeared interested and asked relevant questions. I was happy to educate at least a handful of people about the destruction of the coral in their backyards. If even one of the students got it, my job was done. It was about spreading knowledge. It was up to them what they did with it.

After class was over, Tessa approached me. “That was awesome. I loved every minute of it.”

“I don’t think the rest of the students share your enthusiasm,” I replied.

“Who cares? There are always a few bad apples. Ignore the ones who are only here to suck oxygen. I saw quite a few of them really getting it. I could see the little light bulbs pop up above their heads. You really had their interest,” she told me with a sincerity I believed.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. It’s been a long time. These times make me remember why I loved teaching so much. It’s a natural high when you see students getting it. I wish it had been more, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“You did fine, keep it up. I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a gesture meant to encourage and give strength. It was nothing special and I had felt many hands on my shoulders from friends and complete strangers, but none of them caused the same response. Her hand was gentle and nothing more than a feather touch, but it stirred something within. It was as if she passed me a magic elixir of strength through that gentle touch. I knew it would carry me throughout the day.

She gave me an odd look before turning and walking out the door. I sat down at the desk and reviewed some of the notes she had made. I was pleasantly surprised to see she had jotted down some references to help sell my theory about the reef bleaching. She was passionate about the topic as well, it seemed.

The hour passed too quickly, and before I knew it, the next class was filing in. Once again, I dove into the lecture, using the notes Tessa had made to help drive home the point.

A sound at the door drew my attention. I looked up to see the dean standing in the doorway. The dowdy woman had been less than pleasant in our earlier conversations, and I didn’t expect that to change.

“Good afternoon, Dean Scribbs. Something I can help you with?” I asked, in my most congenial tone.

She looked around the empty classroom and back at me. “I’m hearing good things so far,” she said, in a tone that offered no hint of what she was feeling.

I smiled and nodded. “Well it is only the second week, after all,” I joked.

She stared at me in return. No emotion, not even a blink.

The feeling of being under a microscope was very real, and seconds before I blurted out something stupid, I was saved. Tessa came in behind the dean. Her energy was a ray of light in what had become a very dark room.

“Hi, Dean Scribbs,” she said, flashing her smile. “Are you here to congratulate Professor Dunlap on an awesome first week?” she said, with plenty of enthusiasm.

The dean looked at her, questioning her without the use of words. It was intimidating. This was why she was the dean, I mused.

Tessa was only slightly unnerved under the scrutiny. “You should have been here for today’s lecture. The students loved it. He has a way that the students can relate to.” She looked at me, smiled, and turned back to the dean who seemed to be softening ever so slightly. “I wish he had been my professor freshman year.”

She went on to gush about the lectures that were planned and the field work that would be taking place over the next few weeks.

“Good,” the dean said. “I look forward to hearing more good things.”

She turned and walked out the door without another word.

I stood there, not sure what had just happened, but grateful that Tessa had shown up when she did. I wasn’t used to defending my teaching. It had never been an issue at my last job.

Frozen in the moment, I didn’t know what to say or do. Only that acting on the urge I currently felt—to kiss her and spin her around while thanking her—would be inappropriate, so I did the next best thing. I grabbed my bag and left the room. There was no stopping me as I pushed my way down the busy hallway and out the door to the refuge of my tiny car.

Never had I wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to kiss her. It scared me. I shouldn’t be thinking that way about another woman, let alone a student. In the back of my mind, Jake was lecturing me.

“It’s time to move on, Ian,” Jake had said on more than one occasion. “It’s been long enough.”

I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready to be with another woman. It terrified me for more reasons than I cared to admit.