Jace: Miss you too.
Brock: Same. I wish we could help you release some tension.
Cam: Phone sex?
Jace: You’re supposed to be working.
Cam: I have a script running to ping that email account. I’ve got some free time until the ping comes back.
Me: Sorry, but I’m too much of an anxious mess for anything fun. I promise to make it up to you all when this is over.
Cam: I assumed as much, but figured it was worth a shot.
Me: What’s the soundtrack for the evening, Cam?
Cam: Wicked. The first one.
Me: Again? I thought you were listening to that yesterday.
Cam: It’s my comfort soundtrack now. I’ll probably be sick of it by Sunday.
Brock: Am I the only one who doesn’t understand what’s so great about that movie?
Me: Please don’t say anything more. My heart can’t take it right now.
Jace: Confession: I’ve been pretending to like Ariana Grande since February.
Me: WHAT
Jace: Just kidding. But I hope it made you laugh.
It did make me laugh, but the feeling faded fast. While I sank into the couch and queued up another episode of a sitcom, I felt more powerless than ever.
And Ihatedfeeling powerless! It went against everything I had worked for. I was an Assistant Professor! I was supposed to be respected among my students and peers, not blackmailed by one of them.
“Professor Carrington? Lila? Are you well?”
I blinked at my desk and smiled at Professor Galloway. “Sorry. I didn’t see you standing in my doorway. What was that you asked?”
Galloway stepped into my office and closed the door behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest.
And I was struck with a sudden fear:what if he’s the accuser?
“I know this job can be stressful,” he began. “There are a lot of ways educators such as ourselves handle the stress. Some better than others.”
Oh my God. It is him. He’s confronting me right now.
“Oh?” I tried to keep my face blank, but on the inside I was screaming.
“It is perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed, especially near the end of a semester,” Galloway said. “Do you have a healthy way of relieving stress?”
“I, um, don’t understand what you mean.”
He smiled. “You should join myself and Professors Anstrom and Du Bois this weekend. We have a court reserved down at the park every Sunday.”
“A court…?”
“Pickleball, of course!” Galloway beamed. “I myself prefer tennis, but as I grow older, I appreciate that pickleball is far more accessible. Do you play?”
