“Okay,” she says, stepping back. “Let’s work through an example together. I want everyone to pair up. I’ll give you a scenario, and we’ll apply Bayes’ Theorem to figure out how likely someone is to have a certain trait, based on new evidence.”
She hands out printed scenarios, and student murmurs fill the air. Jahlani weaves around the room, helping here and there, but mostly letting the students work through the math themselves. From the corner of her eye, she watches Roman drum his fingers on his laptop. She hesitates before moving toward him.
Forest green eyes meet hers, and she tries to keep her face as neutral as possible.
“Hi,” he says, sitting upright in his seat, flooding her with a slow smile.
She moves her braids back over her shoulders, and he tracks the movement, his nostrils flaring.
“Nice of you to show up,” she says, trying to rein back her sharp tone.
He runs his pen across his lips, and she clears her throat, looking around the room as her body flushes.
“I know, I know,” he says, shifting in his seat. “Catch me up?”
She scoffs, facing him. “Hate to break it to you, Roman, but that’s not how this works. I have other students to help. Don’t be lazy. Get here on time.”
He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I had a situation,” he says, his voice lower this time, eyes dimmer. “And, I thought you said you would help.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. Leaning forward, she speaks in a low voice.
“I agreed to help someone who actually wants help, not someone who picks when to show up and half-asses things. If you want to pass this class and graduate, take it seriously.”
His head rears back. “I am.”
She straightens up, wrapping her braids into a high ponytail.
“No, you’re not,” she says, shaking her head and pursing her lips. “This is week two, and you’ve been late to almost every lecture. You completely bombed the last quiz. I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. That isn’t putting in any effort.”
He frowns, and she wonders if she came off too harsh. “Jahlani, I had a family situation.”
She freezes, then lowers her gaze to the ground.
Always quick to assume the worst about people now.
“Shit,” she breathes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. Is everything alright? Did someone …” She trails off, not wanting to finish that thought, not wanting to be insensitive. Or at least even more so than she already has been.
His lips turn upward as he looks at her, and her pulse races. “Nobody died, if that’s what you’re thinking, and it’s okay. It happens to the best of us. First impressions matter, and I haven’t made the best one on you, I guess.”
Her eyes soften as she chews her lip. He’s sopleasant.
It pisses her off.
“Look,” she says, releasing a slow exhale. “If you want help, office hours are every Tuesday and Thursday. I’m pretty much there the whole day. I also … linger around after class for a few hours, but don’t broadcast that to anyone.”
Jahlani walks away before he can say anything. Returning to the front, she turns her mic on again.
“Alright, let’s go over the answers together.”
For the next half hour, she works writing the different solutions onto the board, addressing misconceptions, keeping her tone airy and relaxed, encouraging students to share and discuss. The whole time, the nape of her neck prickles as he watches her. Only her. Every now and then he checks his phone,smiles at something that makes her curious, writes things down in his notebook, but his gaze never leaves her form.It’s good,she thinks. It means he’s paying attention. That’s all.
“Remember, Bayes’ Theorem isn’t just for parties and pizza; it’s used in everything from artificial intelligence to risk management. Keep practicing, and you’ll start to see it everywhere.”
He watches for an unnerving amount of time as students begin to gather their belongings, and she knows she was too harsh on him earlier.
She just doesn’t knowwhy.
