Office Hours

by Katrina Jackson

  “What’s up, man?” Mike called. He was sitting next to Toni, who was sitting next to Marie. They were across the table from Layla, Caroline, and Keith. Dean Stampp was sitting in the chair closest to the door, and across the room was Deja, an empty seat next to her.

  “There’s a seat here,” Layla said.

  “I’m good,” Alejandro replied without looking her way. Mike tried — and failed — to cover his cough of laughter.

  Deja didn’t look at him as he walked toward her, but he watched her. He set his laptop down on the table and then lowered himself into the seat next to her. Their arms brushed. She still didn’t look at him, but he saw the shiver roll through her body.

  As soon as his butt hit the seat, Deja looked up at the table. “Okay, let’s get started. We sent out the agenda two days ago, and—”

  “Actually, I’d like to talk about our mission,” Caroline said, interrupting Deja.

  Alejandro saw red as half of the table flinched. He opened his mouth to tell Caroline that the time to add something to the agenda was at any point between the last meeting and today, but Deja beat him to it.

  “No,” she said firmly. A complete sentence.

  “Excuse me,” Caroline said, with that high-pitched voice and elitist head tilt thing older white women did all over campus.

  “Our entire last meeting was devoted to identifying our mission. You should remember since you dominated that conversation, even though Alejandro and I are the co-chairs. We’ve covered the mission. It’s in our shared folders. If you’d like to return to it, please let us know through email and we’ll put it on the agenda for the next meeting. This month, we’ll be identifying student organizations and offices we can partner with for Welcome Week outreach. I hope everyone came with ideas,” she said, smiling at the table as if she hadn’t just set Caroline firmly in her place.

  They were all silent for a few seconds — except for Caroline’s shocked, flapping gums — until Mike broke the ice.

  “I talked to the Students of Color Art Collective. They’re new and want to focus on recruitment next year, so they’re definitely open to whatever we put together,” he said, each word full of barely suppressed laughter.

  “Uh, yeah,” Toni added, “same with the NPHC and NABJ.”

  Marie coughed announcing her tentative intention to speak, as if she was worried someone - Caroline - would interrupt her. “I talked to the International Students Association, and they want to make sure that we don’t forget them since international students usually get here before move-in day and don’t have as much support.”

  “That’s a great point,” Alejandro said, smiling at Marie and then turning to Deja. He really just wanted any reason to look at her. “We didn’t even think of that.”

  Deja looked at him, finally, with a nod and a small smile. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I love that idea.”

  He felt warm all over at her words. It was probably ridiculous, but he could have sworn that she’d said that sentence for him.

  About him.

  “Get a room,” Mike coughed.

  The meeting continued.

  ***

  “Ooooh, Caroline hates you,” Toni laughed as they walked from Mark Hall to the faculty parking lot.

  “She’s gonna run and tattle on you to the Dean,” Mike laughed.

  “Good,” Deja said.

  They were walking slowly. Their classes and meetings were over, but none of them were in a hurry to get home where they would probably have to keep working for another hour or two.

  Marie was the first person to peel away.

  “See you guys tomorrow,” she called with a wave.

  “We’re celebrating on Saturday,” Deja said.

  “Celebrating what?” Mike asked.

  “Marie got the job!” Toni yelled at Marie’s retreating back.

  “Alright. Chill out,” Marie said, turning and walking backward.

  “Only until Saturday, then we’re going all out,” Mike said excitedly.

  “Who invited you?” Toni asked, drifting away toward her car.

  “Me,” Mike said, following her.

  “Congratulations,” Alejandro said to Marie.

  Marie smiled wider. “Thanks.”

  “We’re all really happy for you,” Deja added.

  Marie nodded and waved before turning and walking toward home.

  Then it was just her and Alejandro, and the sound of Toni and Mike bickering behind them. “You want to spend the night tonight?” Alejandro bent down to whisper to her.

  Deja was already smiling. “I spent the night last night,” she whispered back.

  “That a problem?”

  “No, just making an observation,” she replied coyly, leaning into his side as they walked.

  He leaned further down, and his lips just kissed her ear. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready, too.”

  She didn’t know it until he said them, but those were the exact words she’d needed to hear.

  “I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled.

  He looked down at her. “Let’s discuss that—”

  “Over dinner?” she asked.

  “In bed,” he corrected.

  Deja sighed and unlocked her car door before climbing inside with a smile on her face.

  28.

  MAY

  Wednesday

  “Last Faculty Senate meeting of the semester,” Deja mumbled to herself in line at Go Brews! “Last. Faculty. Meeting.”

  “Next,” the cashier called.

  Deja rushed forward to order her cup of coffee and one for Alejandro as well. The coffee shop was packed as usual, and she had to squeeze through the crowd of students waiting for their drinks. She pulled out her phone to check her university inbox while she waited, but for the first time in the longest time, she didn’t have any actually urgent messages. She had a few new messages from students asking her to read the introductory paragraphs to their final papers. She starred them, planning to get through them while she pretended to pay attention in the Senate meeting, but besides that, there wasn’t anything that required an immediate response.

  It was freeing.

  “Last Faculty Senate Meeting of the year,” Alejandro whispered into her ear.

  Deja bit her lips to stop from groaning as his lips brushed the shell of her ear. She turned to him with a smile. “I was just telling myself that.”

  “Almost free.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure, just Faculty Senate, last departmental meeting, finals week, and then all that grading. But yeah—” Deja’s words cut off as Alejandro snaked his hand under the thin sweater she was wearing. His fingertips scraped along the skin above the waistband of her skirt. She sucked in a harsh breath and then let it whoosh out of her mouth.

  “Almost free,” Alejandro repeated.

  Deja nodded.

  “And once grades are submitted, I’m not letting you—”

  Deja’s face was hot, and she pushed his hand from her body. “Absolutely not here,” she said with a laugh and a warning glare at him.

  He shrugged. “Alright, I’ll tell you tonight over dinner.”

  “Are we having dinner together?” she asked playfully, because they hadn’t spent a single night away from each other in almost a month. It was as if their relationship was settling into something warmer, the closer they came to the end of the semester. During the weekdays, tired from teaching, they cooked together and watched television before heading to bed, sometimes too tired to even have sex. They alternated between their apartments, skating around the conversation that both of their leases were ending in a couple of months. That felt like too much, and yet…

  Last Saturday afternoon, they’d spent the entire day in Alejandro’s living room, each of them in their baggiest sweatpants, with piles of student essays around them — carefully separated — and worked through the massive stacks of grading. They barely spoke, but at the end of the night, they ordered pizza, shared some beers, and then had slow, gen
tle sex to celebrate that they had no more grading until finals week. Deja had fallen asleep holding the secret fantasy that this could be every night for them if they moved in together.

  But it was too soon. Right?

  Deja wasn’t sure, especially not when Alejandro rolled his eyes at her and spoke as if every day they spent together was a guarantee of another, as if there wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to be.

  And he did that now. “Of course, we’re having dinner together, but Jesus, I don’t feel like cooking anymore.”

  Deja smiled at him. “I’ll cook,” she volunteered without thinking. “I like to cook. And bake. I’ll make dessert, too.”

  Alejandro’s eyebrows lifted, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “If we weren’t in the middle of the Union, I’d kiss you now. You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Deejay,” one of the students called from the pickup counter.

  Deja sighed at the person mispronouncing her name.

  “Her name’s Deja,” Alejandro called in correction, and then he turned to her. “Did you buy me coffee?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I did.”

  ***

  “What’s up, docs?” Jerome called across the Oval.

  Deja and Alejandro were on their way to Founders, walking slowly, enjoying the spring sunshine on their face. They might not get good seats, but it was worth it, especially because they were holding hands. It almost never happened that they had time to just relax and be together, even on weekends but summer was coming, and he wanted it to be like this.

  He had some research trips to Nicaragua and Cuba, and Deja had decided to head home for a couple of weeks to see her family, but besides that they’d decided to spend as much time as possible just hanging out together around town. And as soon as students left for the summer, they could have more moments like this, walking hand in hand, maybe even making out in front of the burger joint after a couple of drinks with their friends before walking home on a cool summer night. Normally, he couldn’t wait to get out of Centreville, but he was looking forward to staying put for a bit.

  “Hi, Jerome,” Deja said once he was close enough.

  “¿Qué pasa, Jerome y Hector?”

  “What’s up, Profé and Profé’s girlfriend,” Hector said.

  Deja huffed a shocked laugh.

  Alejandro rolled his eyes. “Dr. Evans,” he corrected.

  Hector shrugged, “Profé and Dr. Evans.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hector. What are you two up to?” Deja asked them.

  “We’re heading to the library.”

  “Studying for Profé’s hard ass final,” Hector said.

  “Just study the review sheet,” Alejandro said, exasperated.

  “The review sheet is hard,” Jerome said.

  Deja laughed.

  “Doc,” Jerome said gravely, “your review sheets are worse.”

  Alejandro turned to her laughing, and Deja glared at him. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

  “Oh, hey,” Jerome interrupted, “since you don’t have any more office hours, I just wanted to let you know I settled on History.”

  Deja’s mouth fell open. “You’re changing your major?” She sounded close to tears.

  “What? No,” Jerome said, “I’m double majoring. I just put the paperwork in.”

  “Oh,” Deja said, turning to Alejandro.

  “So now you have to share him,” he said.

  Deja glared at him and turned back to the boys. “What’s your major, Hector?”

  “Alright,” Alejandro said, waving his hand at the two boys carefully so he didn’t spill his drink as he shooed them away. “Go study.” He steered Deja around them and back on their way.

  “Hector, the Sociology department is in Mark Hall if you’re interested.”

  “See you two at the final,” Alejandro yelled, pulling Deja forward.

  The boys’ laughter faded, replaced by Deja’s giggle. “It’s not fun, is it, when someone tries to poach your best student?”

  “I didn’t poach him, but if you want to make this a competition, I’m sure Sheila would love it.”

  “I bet she would.”

  ***

  “Here we go again,” Marie mumbled as they settled into their seats.

  She and Alejandro were on Marie’s left, and Toni and Mike were on her right. Alejandro was turned toward the group, his arm casually around the back of Deja’s chair, his hand lightly cupping her upper arm. Deja was a bit shocked at the casual affection, and apparently, so was Layla. She and Deja made accidental eye contact across the auditorium. The other woman’s face began to turn a bright red and Deja looked quickly away, focusing on her friends instead.

  “I’m giving this committee assignment to someone else next year,” Toni said.

  “You can’t,” Mike said.

  Toni frowned at him, “The hell I can’t.”

  “We’re a team,” Mike said. “The five of us.”

  “We’re overworked, underpaid, and on multiple committees together. Chill.”

  Mike looked as if he was about to say something in return when the Senate president-elect's gavel sounded.

  “Let’s get started on our last meeting of the year,” Sheila called.

  The entire auditorium erupted into applause, and a few people hooted.

  “Yes, yes, it’s not that bad,” Sheila laughed.

  “Speak for yourself,” someone Deja couldn’t see called.

  Deja laughed as the meeting started. She’d thought maybe Alejandro would take his arm from her chair, but he didn’t. She turned to him.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “Are you going to keep your arm around me the whole time?”

  He smiled at her. “I can,” he said simply. “I used to think about that, you know?”

  “About what?”

  “About sitting next to you like this during this long ass meeting.” He scooted his chair closer to hers to accentuate the point. Their thighs pressed together.

  She licked her lips and moved her left hand to his thigh, just to let it rest there, to feel him underneath her palm for a second before she turned to her computer and started reading essay drafts. Alejandro kept his arm around her shoulder, except when he needed to turn the page of the paperback in his other hand.

  It was a surprisingly domestic moment between them, even though they were in the middle of the largest university committee on campus. It should have made Deja nervous or self-conscious, but it didn’t. She thought of Layla’s red face and decided not to look anywhere but at her computer. If she looked and saw that other people had seen them or were watching them, she might push his arm away, and she didn’t want to do that, because she didn’t care what anyone thought of what they looked like right now.

  Besides, if any of the other faculty had an issue with them being together, they could waste their summer break dealing with it on their own time.

  SUMMER BREAK

  29.

  “Turn it off,” Deja mumbled into Alejandro’s pillow. She’d been sleeping so well until his alarm started blaring.

  They’d both been up until nearly midnight the night before inputting final grades, adding extra credit, and fielding student complaints through email. She’d wanted to sleep in today, but the sun was barely out and because of his damn alarm she was awake.

  “Turn it off,” she groaned.

  “It’s your phone,” he groaned back.

  “Oh. Shit.”

  Deja sat up in bed, groggy. She squinted around his room before turning to the bedside table. She grabbed her phone and glasses at the same time and squinted at her screen. “I thought I turned it off,” she said.

  “Turn it off now,” he said, turning over in bed and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  She tapped at her screen and then looked down at him with mussed hair and five o’clock shadow, still struggling to believe this was how her summer would be, with him. She ran her fingers through his hair
as he drifted back to sleep. Deja decided to check her email since she was already up.

  She sifted through a bunch of emails from the college administration, reminding them that grades were due today and stats about graduation numbers and all the other end-of-the-semester detritus that it took her a year to realize she didn’t have to read. She smiled at a few emails from students thanking her for the semester or asking for summer internship advice, flagging them for reply when she was fully awake and had a cup of coffee in hand.

  But then her eyes caught on an email.

  “Oh my god,” she groaned.

  “What?” Alejandro mumbled, probably not because of what she said but because she took her hand from his hair.

  She needed both shaking hands to hold her phone steady and open this email and then read it carefully.

  “Oh my god,” she breathed again.

  “What?”

  Deja didn’t respond, she was too busy reading and re-reading the email just to make sure that it said what she thought it said.

  Alejandro sat up next to her and shoved his own glasses onto his face. “What’s wrong?”

  She turned to him with wide, shocked eyes. “I got an R&R from the Journal of Comparative Sociology,” she breathed, unable to believe the thing she was saying.

  It wasn’t a straight-up acceptance — those almost never came from academic journals, especially not for a young scholar like Deja — but Comparative Sociology was her tier one journal, and a revise and resubmit was amazing. The feedback she knew she’d get when she was ready to open their notes would be invaluable, and if she spent the entire summer working on her article to resubmit, going into her third-year review with an article under consideration would look really good.

  She could hardly fathom it and her eyes started to water.

  “Deja, that’s amazing,” Alejandro said. “It’s okay to cry.”

  She didn’t need his permission, but it felt nice to have it, and even nicer for him to hold her while she did. And the best part was that she got to fall back to sleep in his arms as her happiness transformed into exhaustion.

  ***

  “What do you want to do today?” Deja asked as she walked into Alejandro’s kitchen.