Disclaimers: This story contains offense language, characters who are morally ambiguous and deals with dark themes and graphic violence. You've been duly warned so don't complain if this isn't your proverbial “cup of tea”. The characters in the following story are of my own creation. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from me, the author. This is an alternative fiction. Any comments can be sent to me at bironel@gmail.com
Synopsis: An urban tale of Karima Jenkins, a female ex-criminal who clashes with her tenant Sienna Joffe, a dedicated public school teacher who is instrumental in helping Karima to resist the “pull” of Sincere, a man who has returned from the dead to reclaim his most treasured acolyte, Karima.
My sincerest apologies: Dear Reader, I'm truly sorry that this has taken me so long to finish. Please charge this offense to my head - me, giving into my numerous fears. Still battling with those troublesome dragons. Then life changes of renovations, fasting, relationship endings and beginnings. I humbly appreciate your patience. Without further ado, here is chapter four.
Many Thanks: To H. Yoakam who helped me with this story way back in 07 and Lee Fitzsimmons who stepped in and being immensely helpful with sound advice and editing.
The Chapter Opening Quotes: At the start of each chapter are what I call “borrowed seeds” which sprang from essays, performances, novels, TV shows, films and songs I've bumped into along the journey of the characters of DITP. These “borrowed seeds” inspired the weaving of this story. However, I don't own them, only borrowed them and have tried to concisely give an accounting of their original source(s). If your curiosity has been provoked, I encourage you to explore them at your leisure.
Chapter Four
Many… (are) "schooled" to confuse teaching with learning, grade advancement with education,
a diploma with competence, and fluency with the ability to say something new. Her imagination is "schooled" to accept service in place of value. Medical treatment is mistaken for health care, social work for the improvement of community life, police protection for safety, military poise for national security, the rat race for productive work.
-Ivan Illich, Deschooling Society
Early Monday morning, Sienna woke from a fretful sleep to the ungentle thumping beats of Queen Pen blowing the song Party Ain't a Party which was busting through the bedroom section of her spacious loft. The song's deep rumbling vibrations made the partitions separating her bedroom from the rest of the loft wobble rhythmically and dislodged the large Georgia O'Keefe poster of a purple tulip on the wall over her bed. Her towering assortment of perfume, body lotions and makeup slow bump danced with each other along her dresser top.
Her eyes now fully open, Sienna squinted in green annoyance.
One shouldn't be able to clearly hear the lyrics of a song nor discern who the fuck is singing it from another floor of a four story building?
She involuntarily heard this stupid song multiple times over the last two weeks after the so-called building manager/owner seemingly exhausted the narcissistic rants of Missy Elliot's entire song catalogue through her concrete walls.
Sienna grimly recalled growling at a student at school who was blasting this newer auditory horror in the cafeteria at school. She had the misfortune to inquire the title of the song and the artist and thereby committed the title and artist of this cacophony to memory. Sienna decided if she ever ran across this Queen Pen person she was going to run her through with her VW possibly right after a decent “Missy Elliot hit and run”.
As much as this so-called building manager stays in “handy dandy DIY” mode, didn't she know how to install sound proofing? As a matter of fact, who in their right mind is DIY'ing at six in the fucking morning? Sienna tired eyes pondered as she spied the current time on the bright red LCD of her alarm clock. She looked over at the window where only a slight reddish-orange streak was shyly peeking out from below the dark night sky.
Six AM! Hip hop music very loud. Bass is too high, she mused pensively. Very loud at six o'clock in the morning!
A decision had to be made! Plans needed to be enacted. This could not go on without someone getting hurt , Sienna mused. And as she recalled the tall, amazon looked like she could put a serious hurting on Sienna
In the past three weeks, Sienna had complained, argued, contacted a reasonable lawyer, gone to housing court (staffed by overworked, underpaid civil servants so… no help there), sent paperwork to the Commissioner of Cooperative and Condo Conversion Housing (a sickly man with a disturbingly wet handshake), contacted an advocacy group for condo owners, but no resolution to this noise problem had come forth from her efforts. And the tall annoying one didn't compromise one bit nor comply with any agreements Sienna presented. She was resolved that the owner/manager of the building was either rapidly losing her hearing or was simply… insane.
An insane black woman. Just great. An insane black woman who listens to horrible music too loud. An insane black woman who is trying to drive her insane. Misery does love company doesn't it? Well misery is gonna have to carry on alone because this has to stop! Sienna decided.
But how??
Sienna stared at the ceiling in a meditative state searching for the answer until she could no longer take it. Screaming from her gut, kicking, punching into air grinding her teeth, she melted down into a full fledged temper tantrum, made only more disturbing by the bed sheets flinging about the spacious bedroom to seemingly escape the human female Tsunami.
And then at the last strangle of Sienna's screaming, which reached deaf-inducing decibels, there was instantaneous blessed silence.
She found herself on her stomach on the floor, her legs tangled in her down comforter, her right arm in conflict with her bed sheet and her pillow. She sat up into silence and listened. Listened like she had bionic ears. Straining against the silence to hear something obtrusive.
No sawing, hammering, dragging sounds. No knocking nor banging and no music. Nothing but the faint sound of the city waking up outside and she sighed.
No thumping bass. No drum kick.
She listened. Nothing. No sounds. No annoying music. She smiled.
Perhaps I should freak out more often , Sienna smirked as she throw the comforter, sheets and pillow back on the bed and walked to her bathroom with a highly satisfying butt scratch and yawn to get ready for the day.
― ― ―
Sienna looked down from her perch on the stool at the lone female student wearing thick glasses and pink hair ribbons which matched her hot pink sneakers, furiously writing down the notes in her notebook. Sienna couldn't remember the child's name but she used her note taking speed as an overall gage for how fast the rest of the class was copying the notes she wrote on the display screen projected on the far wall of the classroom.
When the girl looked up at her chemistry teacher and smiled, Sienna continued to detail the intricacies of electron valence in terms of chemical reactions. She couldn't for the life of her figure out how she got picked to teach all the chemistry courses at Concourse Prep, considering she wasn't a science major. But she soon realized that she only had to stay one or two chapters ahead of the class to maintain the persona of “she who knows” with confident authority.
Having already taught this class the previous year was all the pep she needed to be the official Concourse Preparatory School Chemistry and English teacher.
“As you can see here, arranging Lewis structures is like balancing an equation, putting it together until all the valence electrons work with each other. Remember when balancing equations, the number of atoms on the left side of the equation has to equal the number of atoms on the right side of the equation.” Sienna added.
“Who cares about some stupid electrons?” a rude adolescent male voice weighs in on the class from the open doorway. Sienna looked up to see Kalid smirking at her, leaning against the door.
“Kalid you're suspended from this class so please don't disturb the other students trying to learn. Go to the Principal's office to sort out where you're supposed to be, at this time.” Sienna commanded slightly annoyed. She was happy to be rid of the troublesome boy.
“Mista Maz says I gotta report here, at this time .” Kalid mocks as he extends an official looking slip of paper towards Sienna.
Sienna takes the slip from him opening it to see that the school Principal, who was rarely seen at school, signed a notice reinstating Kalid in Sienna's Chemistry class. Sienna glared at Kalid then instructed the class as she quickly wrote on the projected screen five chemical equations : One of propene oxidizing into water and carbon dioxide and four metal and acid reactions.
“Please balance these equations by the time I get back. Anyone who gets all five correct will get an automatic five points on the next exam.”
“Come with me Kalid.” she instructed.
“Ms. Jaffe, I think I should let you know I already got a woman. But if she don't work out, I'll consider you for the position.” Kalid flirted.
Rolling her eyes, Sienna remarked “Since I know how devoutly you practice your faith Kalid I will ignore you misguided attempts at humor. Let's go.”
Sienna marched off toward the school administration office with Kalid slowly following her with a smirk on his face. She forcefully pushed open the door to find the main office empty. She walked up to the Principal's office and banged on her door. As per usual she was not in. The jarring sound of her banging rattled the closed door of the adjacent Assistant Principal's office.
Assistant Principal Ezra Mazer, six foot tall, with a large round jolly belly, stuck his balding head out of his office door to inquire about the noise. He had just been in the process of deciding whether or not to order another textbook for the Math class.
It had come to his attention from the hysterical math teacher Mrs. Caine, that the one and only book she used to photocopy assignments out of for class instruction had been stolen. Now the students had no work to do because the book all the classwork came from was missing. More likely stolen.
AP Mazer was leaning towards not purchasing another book since this was the math for dummies class for kids who just needed a 1.75 to get out of high school and into their mediocre, underachieving “get rich quick scheming” adult lives. It wasn't like these particular students would be hired by a bank or some vastly important financial investment firm after leaving high school so it probably wouldn't be a major loss, to not know algebra.
However, Mrs. Caine may not last long in the classroom since she would not longer be able to hide from the feral math phobic students behind the esoteric subject matter of algebra. It took the look of anger on Ms. Joffe's face, as she banged on the Principal's office door, for AP Mazer to decide: Screw it. They can re-learn how to count on their fingers while mouth reading as far as he was concerned. That damn class always brought the school stats down. Besides he never used algebra after he learned it and he was the second most important adult man in the whole city block wide building.
“Mr. Mazer why has Kalid been reassigned to MY morning Chemistry class? His recent performance and his recent misconduct! He was suspended from MY class!” cried Sienna.
She handed the paper Kalid gave her that she had balled up in a tight fist out to AP Mazer who takes it, straightening out the deep folds and creases to read it, “Yes I saw this earlier. Principal Wainwright signed this yesterday and gave it to me. What's the problem?”
“That's what I wanna know Mista Maz. I was doing what you said and she went all “weapons of mass destruction” all over my ass! Personally I think she… you know how it is. But senior citizens ain't on my “to do list”. Heard me?”
Sienna menacingly glared at Kalid who smirked back at her.
“Kalid wait outside in the hallway.” AP Mazer instructed.
“Alright. I'd watch my back if I was you Mista M,” Kalid cautioned as he exited the main office, closing it's door behind him.
“Kalid is suspended. His GPA is below 0.63. The mean GPA for my morning Chemistry class is 2.7. He is not going to weigh down my class average not after how hard I worked to improve that class' regional chemistry test performance! Security has had to remove him from most of the classes he disrupts and have you forgotten the field trip to the Science Center?? Besides, you and I both know YOU signed that reinstatement. Principal Wainwright hasn't been seen at Concourse Prep most of this academic term! She either died or ran off with the missing $20,000 dollars the students raised to donate to the sadness relief efforts in Sweden. Why would you reinstate HIM in my class!?
“As for the missing $20,000 you know as well as I, it was probably a student or building custodian who stole it. Did you know we subcontract out to a sub-subcontractor for custodial work? The School board deems it fiscally responsible! As for Principal Wainwright, she is busy fundraising. That's why she's often offsite. Using her signature stamp is legal and above reproach. As for the the science center fiasco, the school council is still deliberating so I can't discuss it. You should follow my lead on that. As for Kalid, he can't be allowed to roam the hallways freely, he needs to be somewhere specific during this period or there will be a hole in his class schedule. I don't like gaps in students class schedule. It looks disordered on paper, like missing teeth. Students like him need the foundation of being at a specific place at a specific time.”
“You JUST sent him out into the hallway unsupervised! You know as well as I do if either of us were to stick our heads out there right now and check up on him, we'd find Kalid long gone!”
“That's why I put him back YOUR class instead of any of the others morning classes here at Concourse Prep. You never underestimate THAT boy!” AP Mazer stated with a tone of admiration.
At that moment a female student timidly knocks then enters the main office of the administration.
“What is it now Sherraine?” AP Mazer barked, highly annoyed.
“Mista Mazer, um, Kalid locked all the third period class room doors. With cement glue” Sherraine shyly stated.
AP mazer looked at the wall clock and wondered, How the hell did he get to the art workshop that quickly? Then he frowned at Sherraine.
“Well what the hell am I supposed to do about it! Do I look like a freaking lock smith to you?” AP Mazer bellowed in a booming voice. Even Sierra had to protect her ears with strategically placed finger tips and squinty eyes.
“No Mista Mazer… it's just that Mista Jason slipped a note through his class room door asking me to tell you,” Sherraine nervously explained. “And that's all I was doing… telling you.”
“Well you told me. Now disappear!' AP Mazer said dismissively.
Big brown eyes filled with tears, Sherraine rushed as far away from the administration office and AP Mazer as quickly as her teenaged body could travel. She made a mental note to avoid crazy Kalid as well.
“What is wrong with you? Did you have to yell at her and make her cry?” Sierra admonished AP Mazer.
“I learned that technique at the last Faculty Senate Workshop on maintaining a professional distance from sexually mature female adolescents. See the trick is yell at them and treat them like scum so they either hate or fear you. It's better if you get both. That fear will protect you from pedophile leaning situations. A highly effective technique with the sex crazed teenaged girls. There is an epidemic of female adults chasing teenage boys. You should avail yourself of the technique. It's an effective way to avoid potentially career ending situations.” smiled AP Mazer.
Sienna blinked twice flabbergasted before inquiring, “While That won't be a problem for me, shouldn't you treat all the male students the same way?”
“No. Why??”
“Statistics being what it is, the law of averages suggests at least 1% of the total teenaged male student body may be attracted... to you.” Sierra offered as the commonly unexplored possibility.
AP Mazer blinked flabbergasted unable to verbalize this cognitive dissonance.
Sierra then put on her “gay boy eye” of sexual attractiveness appraisal, scanning AP Mazer from head to toe, then back again and muttered under her breath, “Then again, perhaps not.”
― ― ―
Friday afternoon, Sienna pushed the tests she was grading aside and rubbed eye tired eyes under her stylish glasses. She wondered why her students hadn't improved since she added extra study sessions and test prep work. All her chemistry students seemed to be more attentive in class and were producing work but they didn't seem to be improving on their latest tests. To her dismay some of her borderline students seemed to be doing worse.
Then the phone rang.
Sienna picked up the phone and answered: “Ms. Joffe speaking.”
“I've got some free time this entire weekend you up for it?” Peggy asked.
“What did you have in mind?” Sienna inquired, her curiosity piqued.
“You, me and no clothes.” informed Peggy, thick on the side of corny.
“That's sound nice but I heard the temperature is going to drop over the weekend.” Sienna replied coyly.
“I'll keep you warm. The door will be unlocked.” Peggy reveals before hanging up.
Sienna hung up the phone with a smirk. Things were looking up for her weekend.
Assistant Principal Joe Mazer knocked on the open door to Sienna's office. She looked up at him. AP Mazer smiled at Sienna before speaking, “Ms. Joffe would you meet me my office before you leave for the day?”
“Sure what's up?” asked Sienna. Inwardly she groaned. She wanted to escape to her weekend of fun with Peggy but now that was delayed.
“Just want to run a few things by you. I'll be there around a quarter to four.” AP Mazer stated before turning away from Sienna's office. She could hear him in the hallway berating a student for wearing a baseball cap inside the building.
At three thirty, she packed her bags, turned off her computer and exited her office her meet up with AP Mazer. She walked down the hallway and was surprised to see Kalid, who had been out of school since his Monday's adventures in adhesive, menacing the female student, Sherraine, she encountered earlier when she spoke with the AP, against the hallway lockers.
“Kalid weren't you suspended for the rest of week for gluing the classroom doors shut?”
Kalid looked at Ms. Joffe and narrowed his eyes. This woman's false idea that she could tell him what to do and how to do it, initially was good for a laugh or two but now he knew he'd have to handle her they way he handled all the other teachers who didn't have the good sense to mind their business and stay out of his way.
Sienna walked over to the two students. She sized up Sherraine cowering against the lockers.
“It's alright Miss Joffe. I was just giving Kalid his books.” Sherraine remarked.
“Are you okay?” Sienna asked the nervous girl.
“She said she's fine.” Kalid retorted.
“I've never known Kalid to carry a book - least not to any of my classes.”
Kalid focuses his attention on the annoying Ms. Jaffe.
Seeing a new route of escape, Sherraine quickly moves away from both Kalid and Sienna. She grabs her knapsack from the floor and rushes down the hallway. Sienna looks at Kalid who roughly brushes past her muttering under his breath, “Some people need to mind their business.”
Sienna rolled her eyes and walked off to the AP Mazer's office. She entered the school administrative office running into some students assisting AP Mazer's secretary Mrs. Gona.
“Miss Joffe. AP Mazer is running a bit late. The conference with the board ran over, Just go inside and make yourself comfortable.” Mrs. Gona suggested as she distractedly hurried about the outer office attempting the futile effort to wrap up her end of the day duties.
Sienna removed some books resting on the chair closest to AP Mazer's desk, placing them on the floor. She sat with a sigh looking around the cluttered office space, a mountain of paper, an assortment of pens and books.
AP Mazer bumbled into his office with Mr. Jason, the Current Events teacher in tow. Mr. Jason was best described as a twig. A man who bent willingly to the strongest political wind blowing about. Sienna didn't understand why a man with a PhD in History would allow himself to be defined as a Current Events teacher when clearly much of what he taught in class would be best described as “events that had already occurred” aka “History”.
But she recalled the last meeting with the Superintendent of Schools stating that the curriculum needed to be re-branded for the new millennium student. Apparently generation Y, Z, or Omega (Sienna forgot which letter or symbol was currently being used for the next youngest set of impressionable consumers) were not interested in history. They considered themselves to be children of “The Now”. History was considered a dead subject prone to inaccuracies. Therefore, it had been decided that students would learn current events with the understanding that much of what they learned would be perceived as current, relevant to their issues, now. Now-ness was the new catch-phrase at the Governing Board of Schools.
Sienna couldn't be bothered with that Orwellian garbage-speak as long as they kept their bureaucratic fingers off both her English and her Chemistry curriculum. She knew it was the administration's ignorance of what Chemistry actually involved that they ignored tweaking, re-packaging and re-branding the subject matter. As for English, no one wanted to re-brand it to the point that no one understood what anyone was trying to communicate. The disregard that the students had for vowels when they handed in typed essays was difficult enough to deal with while grading them.
Behind Mr. Jason was Mrs. Dumont the rotund, seventy-seven year old foreign languages instructor, who only spoke French and misunderstood much of what was communicated to her in English. How she managed to teach Spanish, Mandarin and Arabic was a mystery to Sienna. Sienna didn't expect anyone else to be at this impromptu meeting with the AP. She was curious to see what exactly prompted this peculiar cabal.
“Miss Joffe sorry about the delay. I swear the days grows longer with every meeting scheduled. Well let's get to it, shall we? Kalid.” AP Mazer exhaled as she sat at his desk. Mr. Jason and Mrs. Dumont crowded around the desk.
Sienna stood gallantly allowing the older Mrs. Dumont to seat. Mrs. Dumont smiled and replaced the books Sienna placed on the floor resting them back on the seat then she smiled again, hunched over the chair.
“Miss Joffe while I sympathize with the frustration of dealing with the miscreant, we can't abandon troublesome students while on day trips. The Faculty Senate voted against your actions. You've been officially sanctioned. But it's an empty gesture that looks good on reports. There will be no specific action against you. Just don't do that again.” advised Mr. Mazer.
“A trip Kalid didn't quality for by either test performance nor class participation but YOU, Mr. Mazer, insisted that he attend with the rest of the class,” Sienna reminded him. “Besides his behavior was detrimental to the well being of the rest of the students. Nevermind how poorly it reflected on the school. Having Concourse Prep banned from the Science Center would not bode well for any of the administration staff. Leaving Kalid to “face the music” was a judgment call I'd do again if faced with the same situation.”
“I didn't hear you say that! No one heard her say that!” Mr Mazer yelled. Mr. Jason winked and Mrs Dumont smiled continuing to hunch over the books resting on the chair.
“Miss Joffe… Sienna May I call you Sienna? Kalid's conduct and your response put the school in a sort of legal limbo. Additionally this school can't afford another lawsuit.”
“Kalid's is suing the school???” Sienna asked.
“Not Kalid… you. You're somewhat a maverick. That's why we hired you but no woman no matter how unconventional she is, is just gonna “take one for the team” not without getting something out of it.”
“I'm not suing the school.”
“Mrs. Knight, Mrs. Lopez, and Mr. Thomas, the chemistry teacher you replaced, none of them went nearly as far as you did in checking Kalid's psychopathic tendencies. Always being one step ahead of him. Admirable but you're bound to make a mistake and when you do, he'll probably squash you like a bug.” explained AP Mazer.
“Mrs. Knight is on disability for a broken hip and a broken leg. Mr. Thomas is on permanent psych disability.” Mr. Jason supplied with glee. He didn't care for Mr. Thomas who always ate up all the baked goods in the Teacher's lounge before he could get any. That man had a sweet tooth that went all the way to China!
“Mrs. Lopez was brutally assaulted last year! You allowed the student who did THAT to freely roam around the school? Why isn't he in jail.” Sienna asked.
“No witnesses. Besides we can't violate his civil rights to a general high school education until he's eighteen. The civil lawsuit had a different burden of proof where the school loses all the time.” Mr. Jason responded.
“No other school would take him. So were stuck with him until he turns eighteen. Now the good news I wanted to discuss with you! Kalid's eighteenth birthday is in six months, he was held back last year by Mr. Thomas, which is why I called this meeting. Mrs. Joffe I strongly suggest you go on sabbatical for the next six months. Once your sabbatical is over you will be reinstated here at the school. Sounds good, no? By the way, can you teach media arts?” AP Mazer inquired.
“After what you suspected Kalid has done, I should sue you for putting my life in danger!” exclaimed Sienna. “I know nothing about media arts. I'm already overtaxed with the Chemistry classes!”
“You can't sue for what could have happen only what HAS happened and I see this as a preventative measure. I hope you mention this bold step of a modern school administrator for the benefit of a valued member of it's teaching staff at your next teacher's union meeting. Good will goes a long way. I have a book on media arts you can study on your six month break.” suggested AP Mazer, as he grabbed the book from under a gravity defying tower of books and papers on his desk, to hand to her.
Sienna narrowly survived the eventual literary avalanche. Mrs. Dumont's big right toe was the only casualty, as she cursed loudly in French.
— — —
Red pen in hand, Sienna sat on the slow moving Metro Transit train for about an hour, reading over her students papers and tests. Her marks cut across the exams leaving blood red cuts. Each exam was left maimed in red ink.
Sienna was very disappointed in the overall class performance on her last exam so she graded more harshly. She was resolved that they just had to work harder until she realized she was effectively on sabbatical and that this test wouldn't matter since a substitute would replace her for the next six months.
What the hell am I going to do for six months? Read this stupid media arts book? I don't think so! I guess I could get my loft in order - have my bedroom repainted. It doesn't look inviting, relaxing and warm... yet. But that will take a week at best to get done. I guess I could write a book or something else as creative. I suppose I could begin working on my consultation business however I really don't have a clue as to what to consult with anyone about.
The bright spot in all this was that she'd have more time over the next six months to spend with Peggy when she was free. As much as she loved her loft, the menacing, sound intrusive owner of the property was getting on her last nerve and she needed a break from the stress of it all. Peggy was just the break she needed.
As the train pulled into the station Sienna gather her bags to disembark. She walked along the platform towards the exit and she adjusted the shoulder strap of her laptop bag digging in making her left shoulder fatigued and stressed. She was content in the knowledge that Peggy was a gifted masseur - one of her many talents Sienna recalled with a smirk as she hailed a taxi at the train station exit.
— — —
He watched Sienna as she got off the train, walked quickly down the train platform and out to the street exit. She walked with an air of feminist entitlement. The arrogance sickened him. She would need to be reminded that she is only a woman. He will reacquaint her with that knowledge. It is a sin to be so lacking is self awareness, he thinks.
He took note of her stylish but sensible flats her tailored slacks, her crisp clean blouse. Crisp and clean even after all day wear. He watched her adjust the weigh of the shoulder bag on her shoulder. As though the weight of it strains her neck, her back. He knows she doesn't realize that the stress of the weight she suffers under is of her own choosing. He will instruct her of the error of her ways.
He watched her hail a cab. One arrives and she gets in. He noted the smile across her lips. The irony is she isn't aware of what lies ahead. He will make her aware. The teacher will finally be taught lessons she should have learned long ago, he decides.
He watches the cab drive off and disappear from view with one left turn. He didn't hail one to follow her because he knew exactly where she was going. He'd been there before.
So he'd take his time. Grab a cup of coffee and a newspaper or a magazine. Perhaps the computer gaming one of the one with all the cool looking tattoos on the characters , he considers. There is that diner at the end of the street, just up ahead .
Then he'd go there, to that apartment, by the bus. The number eighteen bus. He had ridden it many times. She was in a hurry to get to that apartment building but he wasn't. He had been following her for some time and he drank from a deeply spiritual cup that overflowed with patience.
He could be patience because he had been watching her for the past week. Today he noticed what she ate for lunch. It was the same brown bag lunch for the past week, so she must be saving money. He noticed who she spoke with. The other students as her duties permitted and her colleagues not so much. He noticed how long she working quietly alone in her office, which was much of the day doing the paperwork that went along with her job duties.
In the span of this one day he now knew almost everything about her and yet… he wanted… no, he needed to know more. To know her better than she knew herself. And when he finally approached her, isolated her in a quiet, dark place, with no witnesses to see or to hear, he planned to show her the parts of herself she didn't know existed. Letting the surprise of that revelation dance across her face. He liked the surprised looked on their faces. It was delightful to see. A level of intimacy he enjoyed. Then the fear that always follows close behind the surprise, it would set in her eyes, tighten the lines alongside her nose down to her mouth, weakening her chin. He loved the look of fear better.
Yes, much better .