"Now the essay needs to be at least five pages long," Prof. Kidd said. "Not four pages and a sentence on the fifth page, I mean five whole pages. Understand?" The classroom filled with disgruntled "yeahs" and "whatevers" and "oh fucks." From my seat, second row from the right second seat from the front, I watched Prof. Kidd glance at his wristwatch then he scribbled something in his notebook before capping his pen and closing the notebook. "Due this Friday. Now get out of here."
Everyone hastily packed up their books and notepads and the main crowd shuffled out, leaving a few of the stragglers hanging back. My friend Amy shouldered the strap of her bag and waited for me by the door.
"Coming, Kas?" she asked.
"I have a conference with Kidd," I told her, tipping my head towards our teacher. "Meet up with you at the dining hall for dinner?"
"Five thirty, be there in the lounge," Amy said.
"Sure, see ya!"
She gave me a two fingered salute and left the room, and I sidled up to my professor.
"C'mon, we'll go talk in my office," he said, stacking up his books. Together, we walked to his office in the English department. There were a few other professors there, finishing up their work, a few of them seeing their teachers about work as well. When we were in his office, he shut the door behind him and went to sit at his desk. I plopped down in the seat next to his, taking out my notebook before putting my bag down. "You're my last thing to do for the day," he said, stretching out his long legs.
"Oh," I said, my cheeks turning a warm red. "I didn't know, we can talk another time if you want."
"Naw, we're both here already, aren't we?" he said. "Besides, I'd really like to talk about your story."
I opened my notebook to a blank page, uncapped my pen, and sat with the tip poised over the empty paper. "Okay, I'm ready."
Prof. Kidd grinned at me. He was a nice guy, one of the younger teachers on staff. A lot of the girls kind of had a crush on him, he was kind of cute; tall with that lean body look, dark brown hair that was longish and kept back in a little ponytail, warm brown eyes, and a perfect smile. I always felt a little shy and nervous when I was in his class or in a one-on-one conference with him. I'll also confess that I did think of him sometimes in a very bad student way. But I probably wasn't the only one.
"Now, with your story," Kidd started, "You have a really good plot going on, with really good characters, but-" There was always a but. "I don't think that this kind of story is suitable for this class."
I blinked. Say what? "What do you mean?"
"Well, the dynamics of the two main characters," Kidd continued. "I mean, look at this guy Jon. Here he is, bolder than life itself, out-going, his personality, if you developed it right, could jump right off the page and smack the reader in the face. And the girl, Lily." He presented me with the print out of my story. It was covered in red pen marks in a series of scribbles, circles, and cross outs. "Lily is obviously a submissive type of girl. I can just see the way that she hesitates before she answers questions anyone asks her. Or how she second guesses every decision she makes. I think that these two characters, if played just right on the page, you could make them a memorable couple."
I was speechless. How was this story not suitable for class? "Okay, I think I can do that," I said, scribbling down his advice and his comments onto my sheet of paper. "But why isn't it suitable?"
"Because it reads more like a piece of erotica."
"Erotica?" The word barely reached a whisper when it was involuntarily pushed out from between my lips.
"It's there, subtle as it is, it's still there," Kidd went on. He flipped through a couple of pages. "Like here." He pointed to particular scene where Jon walked Lily home and I had left it off with them at the door. "And here." He pointed out another scene and another and another, until I realized that if the story was read a certain way, could be seen as a piece of erotica.
"Oh," I said.
"Now," Kidd said, leaning back in his chair, ankle crossed at knee. "There's a big market out there for these kinds of stories, you just have to put in the right kind of stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" I asked nervously.