It started innocently enough. When we all went back to college and saw our old, awkward professor for our main class, we figured we knew what seminars were going to be like. But it turned out we only had Dr. Skarja for lecture -- in seminars, we had a TA. And our TA, Ryan, was a complete hottie.
It wasn't clear if the guy even knew he was hot. Honestly, in terms of looks, the guy was around a 7/10 -- maybe an 8/10 on a good day. However, a few seminars in, it was abundantly clear the guy had what Tristan next to me would call "serious rizz." Ryan was some kind of new age hippie -- his hair wasn't long, but longer than what you'd expect from a guy, cascading down to his shoulders in brown beautiful waves. He always had at least three necklaces on. He had deep dark eyes you could get lost in, but more than that, he just carried himself around the room with this confidence. It helped that he was totally low-key, constantly making jokes not at us, but with us.
He wouldn't dress fancy or anything -- just a t-shirt with some band on it, hugging his impressive chest and biceps. He definitely used his time at the campus gym well. He also brought his energy wherever he went, his smile contagious, his laugh reassuring.
He'd blush a little when we told him it was the only seminar we were looking forward to going to. "C'mon," he would tell us. "All you're saying is your other classes suck." While a few students would agree and laugh, the bolder ones would tell him that he just made coming to seminars enjoyable. His blush would only deepen.
Sometimes he would tell us to bring our laptops to seminar, then end a little early and tell us to write down a little outline for our upcoming essay or something. Those moments were my favorite -- inevitably, a student, one of the girls, would raise her hand and he'd walk over to where she was and peer over her shoulder.
You could smell him from there. He smelled like a mix of some quirky dollarstore cologne -- how adorable -- and pure pheromones. You could inhale his scent for the rest of your life and be content. You could die happy knowing you had everything you needed. He also was completely unaware of his effect -- he'd lean in close, reading the screen and paying attention to nothing but the work. He'd never talk about anything but that, but he was so courteous, so human about how he did it.
I saw my friend Ash raise her hand once, and he walked over next to me and started looking over her computer. He moved his lips as he read the words, nodding.
"Okay, what I love about this is how it begins," he began. "Beginning an essay on writing rhetoric by looking at it from a non-writing perspective -- like, maybe some professor would go 'um actually' and say you need an academic definition, but it actually super works here," he gushed. He was so passionate about what he did. "Then, what's the plan here, it shifts into movies then stories?"
Ash nodded diligently. "Um, yeah." She was nervous.
"Okay, so, to be honest, you don't even need the movies part, in my opinion," he replied. "Like, just go straight into it, you know? Hit them with what writing means to you as a non-writer, then bam, right into the writing. It already segues so well, you don't even need to buffer it with movies. Am I even using 'buffer' correctly...? Enh, whatever." He leaned in closer. "Yeah, this all looks really good. You just gotta, y'know, tighten it up a lil' better, but I think if you do, you're looking at a high mark right there. Make sense?"
Ash blushed, though he couldn't see from his angle. "Okay, thank you."
"Great job, Ash."
That was his staple. His trademark, his calling card. He always said your name after he was done giving you feedback, and he always said it like the name was beautiful to him. With that, he walked back to his desk at the front of our little square of desks and went back to writing something down, occasionally looking up to check if anyone else needed help.
When he did, his eyes locked with mine. I didn't even realize I was looking at him. A second passed, then, instead of looking away, he raised an eyebrow at me jokingly. The two of us broke out into smiles, then he went back to writing things down.
I normally couldn't talk to people, especially not teachers. Ryan knew that. I told myself that was why he sometimes made faces at me when he caught me looking. I normally would blush and look away, but something in his eyes made me trust him. I could smile at him. I could keep looking at him without being insecure. It was magic. But... even still, I wanted to work up the confidence to ask him about my outline. To say words out loud at him. Both because I wanted to talk to him, and because I wanted so badly to hear the word "Jessica" escape his mouth. I wonder how pretty he'd make the word sound. I bet he'd be the best at it. I bet no one could make the name sound prettier than him.
***
I wasn't the prettiest girl in the world -- a lot of my friends were kind to me and liked to hype me up, but you don't major in creative writing because you're popular and the prettiest girl on the planet. There were times I'd look at other girls, even girls in my own classes, and I couldn't help comparing myself to them. I kept telling myself I could be prettier, or thinner, or less awkward-looking, or have nicer hair or bigger boobs or something.
Even so, thanks to being in small classes, whenever a group chat was made on Instagram or even Discord or something, the class involved me. Each time it felt like a privilege. The others wanted me involved. It was weird, because I knew they invited all the other members of a class or seminar group, but it was always... flattering.
Still, this latest group was different. I could feel my heart rate go way up the moment I realized that I was invited into a very different group chat than the usual ones -- most of the girls in my seminar made one all about Ryan. I tried to deny it at first -- I told myself it was just about the seminar, like a support group for struggling students or something. But there was no denying what kinds of messages we were sending in that group.
Kylie
omg, did you see the shirt he wore today?
I swear to god he intentionally chooses the tightest fucking shirts
Sydney
lmao
you're so shallow
Kylie
I am NOT shallow he is just YUMMY
like, if he is not single that will literally break my heart
Sydney
ok Kylie, go ask him out then
go ask out your teacher
see how that works out
Georgia
he seems really serious about his job
Kylie
of COURSE he is, he wants to be a professor and he already has published a book before
Ashley
OMG he's a published author too?? 😍
Etc. I blushed reading the messages -- I knew that the other girls in the class probably found him attractive in the back of my mind, but now I was seeing firsthand evidence. I had kind of mixed feelings about it -- it was nice that there was a group where I could vent those feelings if they became too much, but I was also kind of bummed that other girls, prettier girls, had the same feelings about him. Plus, they were bolder than me -- my chances were probably in the toilet. Still, it was fun to send my own message.
Jessica
I could get lost in his eyes lol
It was tame, and the stupid 'lol' made me sound insecure, but I couldn't handle saying just 'I could get lost in his eyes' and nothing else. It felt too creepy. In fact, my legs and hands moved around nervously until the next message came in.
Kylie
Right??? and hope this isn't tmi, but I loooove the way he smells
Sydney
omg Kylie haha
Georgia
That was... a thing you just said
I laughed in relief to myself. Not only had my comment gone over well and the heat was on someone else, but someone else even acknowledged the smell thing. This group chat was fun. It was nice to have an outlet. I had a feeling I was going to use this group chat a few more times before the semester was over.
***
"And I mean... I'll be honest, I am not the biggest fan of Kerouac," Ryan continued, rubbing his eye as he talked. "This is where as a TA I'm supposed to say 'oh but I can see his significance, I hate him but he was important to...' Nope. Just nope. He sucks." The class emitted a small giggle. Ryan was never afraid to be opinionated, especially when it came to the class content. He cared so much about the class, and about us. "So yeah, we have to read some bullshit, but what can ya do." He leaned back in his chair and added in a mocking voice, "I am Jake cake. Rake. Write like Blake. What a friggin' visionary."
"Okay then Ryan, who's your favorite poet?" one of the girls asked. I didn't even need to look to know -- it was Kylie. Just as she was over text, she was the boldest in the class, and wasn't afraid to directly challenge Ryan.
This suited him just fine. He leaned forward and smiled. "Okay, so- when we say- like, my personal favorite, or the most important?"
Kylie shrugged. "Either. Or both."
Ryan blew a raspberry cutely, his brown eyes drawing up to the ceiling in thought. "If we're going most influential, I gotta be boring and go for Shakespeare or something. Except- okay, so this is kind of complicated, but what we know as 'Shakespeare' is more like a culmination of a lot of ideas that came during and before the actual guy himself -- okay, you could say that about literally any writer but his works were particularly important at galvanizing ideas and themes together in one, like, moment in time, but, like, yeah. It's like how, I dunno, you need a fire and a lamp to make the light, but he made a really good lamp." He paused and looked around the room. "Okay, that was poorly worded, I'm sleepy."
The room laughed with him. He held total control over the room. None of us, especially him, noticed how off-topic we were.
"Plus, it's like a lamp that stole a lot of fire. Like, the idea of plagiarizing work and putting that under scrutiny is a surprisingly modern invention, and it was a lot more accepted back then, but hoo boy, that guy just nicked anything he found interesting and maybe sometimes changed the names of his characters. Even so, he still put in a lot of work himself into making and presenting these things well, so like, yeah, Shakespeare, all things considered, was the most influential. Maybe I'll change my answer later, but that's what my brain thinks of first. But when it comes to my favorite, I'm kinda tied between Wordsworth and Plath."
"Ooh, Wordsworth," Kylie replied, putting her arms on the table, leaning in and smiling. "So you're a romantic."
The implication went right over Ryan's head as he shrugged. "I mean, it works! I get some poetry snobs will go, 'ew! Poetry that rhymes!' but it works!! It's the old ABABCC, it just gets me. Plus, it all flows so well. each word goes to the other so seamlessly and it's like, augh! Yes! Exactly! Y'know?"
One of the boys raised his hand. "So who's Plath? I've never heard of him."
"I can tell," Ryan replied immediately with a chuckle. "It's a her. Sylvia Plath. She was pretty recent, twentieth century, and a lot of her poems were really personal or raw. She wrote about the Nazis, war, atrocities, but also about herself, and her parents, her mental problems... it was all really autobiographical. There's a lot of repetition in her work that's like a drum, hammering in the emotion. You read her stuff and have to go stare at a wall for a few minutes. Like..." He chuckled. "You know?"
I smirked. He was such a hippie. He saw my smile and pointed my way. "See? You get it," he said warmly towards me, with that goofy lil' grin of his. Part of me felt bad for getting wet to that little grin, but a part of me... really fucking liked it.
***
Jessica
He's so passionate, I love when he goes on his little rants haha
Sent. The chat wasn't really active since last week when the girls made it, and he was all I could think about after seminar ended, so I did what I could to kickstart it. Happily, the rest of the girls took the bait.
