"Minnie, I'm surprised at this after reviewing your drastically improved assignments and studious notes."
All the other girls had left the classroom, snickering and chatting. They were laughing at me for being caught texting by Prof. Wagner. I was doing much better in class since staying for tutoring with him and the TA, but now my behavior was under much stricter supervision.
"We're going to have to address this infraction, young lady."
I kept my eyes down and nodded, but couldn't help but squeeze my legs together and squirm. The professor made me feel tingly all over. I couldn't help being a little nervous.
"May I see your phone?"
I handed it to him. His soft, firm hand grasped mine for just a moment as he took it. He was dressed in an off white button up, a skinny green tie and immaculately pressed slacks. His loafers were dark brown. He dressed much more sharply than most of the humanities professors, and commanded a great deal of formality and respect. He clearly had his eyes on a position as a Dean, maybe even President.
He read my texts while I blushed, embarrassed at the vapid chatter I was exchanging with a friend from high school about the losers we had encountered over the recent Thanksgiving break. Our peers were pregnant, drug addicted or racist, and we were taking a nasty delight in gossiping about them.
"Well, I must say I expected something more urgent or important than this."
My face became a deeper red and my apology caught in my throat.
"In any case, I can't give preferential treatment even though you've been an otherwise exceptional student."
"Yes, sir." I replied. "I'm very sorry for texting." I half whispered, sneaking a quick glance at him and then back down towards my flats.
"Good, apologies are the first step. But they aren't always enough."
"Are you going to... to punish me?" I squeaked at the end of that sentence and winced.
Prof. Wagner cleared his throat. "I don't like to call it punishment, it makes this too much of a disciplinary regime. We're partners in your learning and growth. This isn't a punishment, per se. It's correction. So you won't make the same mistake again."
Correction. He was going to correct me. I had a strange feeling in my stomach. Though I was still embarrassed and anxious to get the conversation over with and leave, some part of me liked the way that "correction" sounded.
"Ever since you stayed after for tutoring, I've been thinking about you. You have great potential. I'd like to take you under my wing as a mentor and make you the best student you can be. Top of the class. I think you'll find it to be an enjoyable and massively edifying partnership. But it will involve hard work. And a little pain."
I swallowed and looked up at him. He brushed my hair out of my face and chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"No need to be so nervous. Would you like to be my teacher's pet?"
