Part Three, from His perspective. Though short, it sets up a next chapter from Her perspective rather nicely.

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Richard Allison scanned through the textbook with his finger in search of a specific passage. With the first lecture of the week less than an hour away, there wasn’t enough time to dig through the author’s entire collection. Hell, he could just make up the quotation as far as most of his student’s could tell. There were few, however, that would notice, and those were the ones he cared about. Especially her.

There it was. He scrawled it down onto his note pad and shoved it into his case. It would be an interesting lecture, to say the least; it would take a lot of filler to reach the end of class, but he knew he could do it.

Would she show up? He believed so; her attendance had been flawless as far back as he could remember, and her studious demeanor would likely be unfettered by a single inappropriate move.

He smiled to himself as he locked the door to his office. It wasn’t just a single inappropriate move, and she had probably realized it. Though it was his stray hands that had scared her away, their relationship had crossed beyond a professional one months prior. Their looks towards each other, the endless praise passed back and forth, and their unnatural desire and tendency to just be near each other. For each of the questions she asked in office hours, he knew that they were already answered. She was just looking for an excuse to talk to him, just as was his invitation to discuss her future.

Her future. Yet another thing to smile about as he walked through the third floor hall of the English building. He knew that she was still wracked with uncertainty, but he was not. She would be his, both in body and in soul.

The foundations were laid long ago; all that remained was the subtle game of chess between him and his prize. She probably didn’t even know there was a game being played, but it was there, and all of the pieces were in the right place. Well, mostly; he genuinely didn’t know if she would cave that evening or flee, but it didn’t matter. There was time.

He entered the lecture hall, surprised to find that Juliana Henry absent from the front row. However, a quick scan of seats revealed her hiding in a far corner, her head down at her notebook as if too scared to make eye contact but too determined in her studies to miss a lecture.

Richard admired her persistence. Though he had scared her away days prior, it was not enough to permanently buck her from his grasp.

“Good morning, class. I hope you did the assigned reading, as this quiz is going to be a tough one.” The respondent bickering among his students was music to his ears. “Get out a piece of paper and a pencil and listen.” He gave them the usual fifteen seconds to assume the position before asking his esoteric question; a comparison between his favorite author and the piece he assigned for the weekend reading.

Most of his class stared back with contempt in their eyes. He knew he had just screwed them with the question and loved every moment of their exasperated faces. The few students that cared about their grade dove right in, while the others trickled back into the work slowly, knowing that a useless answer was worth more than none. At least seven didn’t even bother writing anything at all, and twice that probably wrote nothing of merit. But, in the far corner, Miss Henry filled her paper diligently.

Her furious writing signaled the level of focus that Richard loved. Her hair bounced as she scanned her head back and forth, reading and rereading every word she wrote before continuing towards what would undoubtedly be another near-perfect answer.

Richard stared at Juliana the entire time, entranced by her diligence. The moment she finished and placed her pencil to the side, he called time. A student in the middle of the halls screamed an obscenity, but Richard only smiled. He had the students pass forward their sheets and collected them onto his desk.

“Okay, class. It wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, flip to page one-hundred-eighty-seven.” He had neglected to tell his students to bring their text, but continued as if each of the students had the source.

The rest of the lecture passed uneventfully, save for Juliana’s reticence. For the first time since enrolling in his lectures semester ago, she spoke not a word, spending the entire period scrawling in her notebook and never looking up.

More than once he was tempted to call on her, to force a contribution she did not want to give, but held himself back. No, he had pushed her enough. There would be more tests to come, but today she could rest.

After class, Juliana hurried down the stairs diverting her eyes from Richard’s. However, he followed her with his and admired her body; she looked cute when she was on the defensive, her books pulled close against her chest. She wore an unseasonably long green sweater and skirt, as if she didn’t want her perverted teacher gazing at her exposed skin, but that did not stop him from fantasizing about her young body.

He returned straight to his office. Though he often tended to delay his grading until absolutely necessary, he pulled the slips of paper from the corner of his desk. The pile was lighter than usual, but he expected as much. He cared only for a single grade, but he still went through the entire paper, giving half credit or less to all but his brightest students.

Near the end of the stack was the quiz belonging to Juliana Henry. Her precise penmanship filled half the page with a flawless answer.

He slid his red pen to the top of her exam, placed it on the paper, and made a nice, giant goose egg. It was the perfect way to force another confrontation.