In Corners

The campus café was loud and busy

The professor stood by the counter, holding his cup of coffee like a prop, scanning the room.

He found a girl sitting in a corner.

She was staring into the middle distance, eyes fixed on nothing. She clutched her notebooks tightly to her chest.

Grafton waved. A small, subtle motion.

She caught his eye. She froze. She looked away, averting her gaze like she’d been caught stealing. Her teeth sank into her lower lip.

He walked over. He stopped at her table and reached out, tapping the cover of the top notebook in her arms with a finger.

-Whatchu studying, he asked quietly.

She jumped. The proximity startled her. She took a breath, shaky and shallow, before looking up through thick bangs.

-I-I'm just... jotting down some ideas, she whispered.

She hugged the notebooks a little tighter.

-Are you a student here? he asked. He knew.

She nodded. She wouldn't look him in the eye.

-Y-yes, I am, she said. I study literature and creative writing.

Grafton watched her fidget. She picked at the edge of the notebook.

-Coincidence, he said. I teach creative writing. Literature. Mostly feminist works of the latter 20th century.

That stopped the fidgeting. Her eyes widened. The fear receded, replaced by a spark of something else. Interest. Maybe hunger.

-O-oh really? she asked.

-I'm Professor Grafton.

She blinked. The name landed heavy.

-That sounds fascinating, she murmured.

She finally looked at him. Directly. It was fleeting, but it was there.

-How's the campus experience been? he asked.

She took a deep breath. The grip on the notebooks loosened.

-It's been... okay, I guess, she let out quietly.

-What year are you?

She smoothed the hem of her short skirt.

-Third-year student, sir, she said. Just turning twenty-one next month.

She peeked up at him.

-Why do you ask?

-Trying to get an idea of your student profile, Grafton said..If that's ok.