"Confidence and being an extrovert are two different things," he says. He starts rolling up the sleeves of the shirt and I'm honestly regretting giving it to him. I am grateful for the fact I'malready sitting at the desk. Where things can be hidden. At my age, I should not be sporting random boners over small actions. "I learned the confidence because it was the only way to get my father's attention. I love being an introvert because all my old friends liked my money more than my company."
"Did your therapist tell you that?" The words are out before I can think them through. I close my eyes and sigh. I'm about to apologize when Bennett's laugh catches me off guard.
"She did, actually." I open my eyes and look at him. An apology is on my lips but he waves his hand between us, immediately undoing the work he just did on the sleeves. It's my turn to laugh and I hold out my hands, motioning for him to step closer. I start folding the sleeve so it won't easily come down. He has his fist closed, the muscles in his forearms popping a bit. I realize only when I see the tips of his fingers are white that he's actually trying to flex. I don't say anything, but it makes me smile that he's intentionally showing off. "She was one of the reasons I left Chicago. I still check in with her every now and again."
I finish the first sleeve and move on to the next one. I nod in response to his words. Just as I finish the second sleeve, the door opens and a group of girls walks in. They eye us for a moment, more so Bennett, before walking to their seats. I drop my hands and nod to him once. It's twenty minutes later that the class starts. There are a couple of empty seats that were filled last time.
"Okay, so to start the class. Yes, I spilt coffee on my pants this morning. We are all going to pretend that I'm wearing a nice, green shirt that is correctly tucked in and matches my pants." There are a few snickers around the room as Bennett motions to himself. "But enough about that, let's start with a quiz okay?"
I stare at the first question, trying to recall the information that I read over the last couple days. The questions aren't multiple choice either, I have to write an answer in. I readeach question twice, trying to make sense of the situations and coming up with the answers. I write slowly, making sure my answers make sense. At least hoping they do.
There are only six questions and I'm just finishing the last one when the time is called for pencils down. I glance over my answer for number three one more time before the quiz is collected, not sure if that was the right thinking. We jump right into the next lesson and I start taking as many notes as I can. We cover the whole chapter, all eleven pages, with the remaining time. I know I'll have to reread the material on my own and fill in a few notes as needed.
By the time it hits nine-fifteen, Bennett makes an announcement. "Okay, so we're going to stop here for now. You have fifteen minutes left of class, if you want to head out you can or if you have any questions about what we covered, I'll answer what I can. I will have quizzes graded by Monday."
All but myself and two others leave the classroom. I check back on my two pages of notes, going over to make sure I have it all straight. I could use some clarification on the marketing strategies. The other two students are standing in front of Bennett's desk now, talking loud enough that I can hear them but not really understand what they're saying. I wait in my seat until the two students nod and head toward the door. Bennett's eyes meet mine and he stands, hands going to his chest.
"Oh, you can keep it," I say quickly before he can get the first button undone. I can see he's about to argue. "Honestly, it's fine. I have plenty of those where they came from. Which would be the local Wal-Mart."
"Might have to take a trip to Wal-Mart, then. This is comfortable." Bennett stretches out his arms, the sleeves still rolled up to show off his forearms. "Did you have a question about what we went over today?"
"I did, actually, but if you have somewhere else to be—"
"I have plenty of time, Nelson." Bennett leans against his desk and folds his arms over his chest. He crosses one ankle over the other as well. "Technically, I have office hours right now anyway so fire away with the questions."
I flip the page in my notebook and tilt it toward him. "I just had a question about the marketing strategy section."
"Yeah, some of these are new even to me, like the Influencer one." He looks over my notes and back at me with a smile. "Your notetaking skills are impeccable, by the way. Is there a particular strategy you need more help on or just overall?"
"The basic ones at the beginning I understand, but its the newer ones, like you said. Influencer and SEO is another one."
"Do you have any kids or nieces and nephews?" Bennett asks.
"No kids, but I have a nephew in high school." I'm not sure where this turn of questioning is going.
"I ask because the Influencer one can be best described as someone from TikTok or social media that sees another person they follow showing off a specific item or brand and they feel like they need to have that to be cool, too. If your nephew has a favorite sports team player or musician he likes, they would be considered under the Influencer marketing if they advocate for any type of product." I nod. He mentioned this in a broader form during class, but I can relate that back to Clark. "Or, if you were ever influenced to buy something on any late night infomercials growing up. I know I was convinced I needed a few of those things when I was up way too late and had the TV on."
"You watched infomercials?" I find that equally cute and funny. "I have at least ten years on you and even I never watched them."
"Okay, smarty-pants. Do you want me to help you with the other one or would you like to insult the person who grades your work?"
I want to take the bait, but I bite back the sarcastic reply and let him explain the next strategy.
Chapter Five
"Theruleswerelaidout in the syllabus and I made it clear in class. The first forty minutes of class are for the quiz and if you are not here, you get a zero. No exceptions unless you make me aware of it ahead of time, then I might show some leeway."
William, one of the three students that did not show up for the quiz last week, stares at me like I'm speaking a language he doesn't understand. I'm not budging on this rule, especially not when his excuse was he slept through his alarm. William, like the other two, will learn fast that they need to show up for the class they paid to attend.
"If you have any further questions, we can discuss this after class. Please take a seat."
"Whatever," William says. "It's not like this class is important anyway."
"I'm sorry that's how you feel," I say. In my head, the words are a lot more colorful. I'm a professor, and a professional oneat that. I won't cuss out a student and risk loosing my job over a nineteen-year-old figuring out that life doesn't revolve around him. A cough catches my attention and I turn toward the door to see Nelson walking closer. I'm not going to evaluate how seeing him instantly puts a smile on my face and floods my mind with the memories of wearing his shirt to bed last night. "Good morning. You okay?"
"I should ask you that," Nelson says. He motions toward his own face, swirling his finger in a circle. "You had this… growl look on your face."
"Growl look?" I raise an eyebrow at him and push my chair back to stand. "I am glad I'm not your English professor."
