All characters are over the age of 18. The characters and events present are created from my own overactive imagination and any resemblance to anyone is accidental. I hope you enjoy this new story. If you do, feel free to comment and rate!
Disclaimer: Power dynamics and the abuse of that in academia is a real issue. I don't aim to make light of that but I hope you enjoy the fantasy I have created.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was just a struggle to get started. That was the main issue. I just took too long to start so I didn't write enough in the given time. My problems with writing in a professional academic style were also brought up in the feedback I had received. I was trying what I could but the grades I had received for my first semester essays were lack lustre to say the least. I comforted myself with the knowledge that they were not grades that would go towards my overall degree and were more like practice papers than anything. The exams at the end of the third semester were the real issue. They would be graded, the timed essays in those exam papers would have an impact on my overall degree and while second and third year counted for more, I didn't want to head into those years already having to catch up. These issues and the lack of solutions led me to turning up at his door.
Dr. James Macleod. The words shone down on me as a last hope, from about head height on his office door. The cool wood was a welcome change from the surprisingly hot spring weather I had experienced on the way over to the university. That same heat filled the corridors inside the Arts and Humanities building where the majority of my history lecturers resided, including my personal tutor, Dr James Macleod.
Young, strongly built, playful and incredibly attractive, you could tell that just from the wide eyes of all the heterosexual female students who followed him around. I'll admit I acknowledged his attractiveness when I saw him, always wearing fitting suit trousers and a number of smart, not to mention tight, shirts. I'm certain that when he showed up in our first seminar with that clean white shirt, half the group cooed. And his voice! That smooth melodic but slightly gruff Scottish accent did have me swooning. I'm not going to say that he sounded exactly like Gerard Butler...but I'm not, not going to say that. Physically he seemed slimmer, leaner and seemed to only be in his late twenties.
Brushing out my pencil skirt and flapping my blouse to cool my chest down I prepared myself. I checked my watch and made certain that I was here at the time we had agreed to in our emails. The green sliding sign showed clearly that he was available. I knocked quickly and delicately.
"Come in!" he called with a soft order. I entered.
"Ah Miss Bailey, hello! Do come in. Close the door behind you."
I did as he asked and stepped into the room with a nervous smile. We had already had one designated tutor meeting when I had arrived but the one-on-one environment was still nerve-racking for me.
I took a seat in the chair he gestured to and sat opposite him, the desk separating the two of us.
"So, thank you for emailing me. What exactly is it I can help you with?" he asked warmly.
"Well, you see. Well, I just got the essay marks back and they said that, well I didn't score highly in the writing style or the sophistication of the argument. I think it's because we didn't do too many essays of this style at school, and I was just wondering if you had any ideas of how to help me out with that? Any advice I could use?" I knew I was stumbling over my words but I couldn't help myself. His gaze was intense but his casual, welcoming posture put me off guard.
He paused for a minute before replying, "It is true that academic essays at university are a step above what you will have done at school, even sixth form or college." He tapped on his keyboard and looked at the screen, from what he said next I could tell he was looking at my results.
"It seems you are doing quite well in the knowledge criteria and evaluating the evidence you bring up; those would be the issues that it would be most appropriate to visit me for. For issues of academic style and sophistication it might be better for you to approach the Academic Skills Service the university provides. It is student run and they conduct sessions that will help you improve." He turned to me with a smile of an easy job completed but the smile soon faded slightly as he looked at me. I sensed that my face was portraying more than I meant as I could see the hesitation in his eyes. The hesitation of someone who knows they haven't solved your problem.
"I...already tried to book a slot with the Academic Skills people but...well." My nervousness was quite apparent I'm sure but I knew I had to press on and tell him. "I dated a fourth year in the first semester. We only went on a few dates and we broke up before the end of term, but it turns out he oversees organising things inside the Skills Service." I could see him put the dots together in his head so I hurried on to tell him the full story.
"When I requested a meeting none of the other tutors were available for one-on-one tutoring...except him."
"On multiple days and time slots?" Was his short response.
"Yes." I looked down.
"Have you come here to report that? I can get in touch with the-"
"No!" I interrupted and then hurriedly stopped myself from continuing my rude interruption but he sat back and waited for me to say my piece. "Sorry I just...I don't want to cause any issues. He'll be leaving after the summer term and he hasn't done anything bad...I can just tell he wants to use the meeting to try to get back together."
He bit his lip considering it and slowly nodded. "So, you just need a little help right now and don't want to create any stressful issues for yourself."
I felt tears at the corners of my eyes as I gazed up into the kind and considerate face that sat across from me, leaning forward as though the small physical distance had translated into understanding. I brushed the forming tears from my eyes.
"Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I need. I can go to the Skills department afterwards if I still need help and I won't bother you anymore I'm just really worried about the timed exams coming up. I want to improve before then!"
He stood up with kindly raised eyebrows. "You're a smart young lady, I hope you are aware of that. Knowledge of your own flaws and the desire to better yourself." Looking at me he smiled. "How could any self-respecting personal tutor, any self-respecting academic, turn someone like that away."
He started rummaging around in the papers that were piled on his half of the long desk at the side of the room. With a little "aha" sound he returned and placed a sheet of paper in front of me. I took it and examined it.
"They're sources, from one of the later seminars I'm running. You would have been asked to read some of them in preparation for the session's discussion but I'm going to ask you to read every single one of them. When you return next week, you can work in my office or the side room-" He gestured first to where the long desk continued onto my side of the room and then to the corner of his room where a desk sat, almost entirely enclosed by a freestanding, shoulder-high fabric privacy screen, "-and complete an essay under timed conditions. From that I will go through it with you and give you feedback."
