"I must eat and run," Kayla says. Indeed, she's finished her lasagna. "Time and class preparations wait for no person."
"Oh!" Dr. Lewis says. "If you must…?"
"I really must," Kayla says.
You wouldn't mind talking with her more, but you, too, have work to do. "I should go as well, Dr. Lewis."
"But you haven't finished your—"
You fold your napkin over the chicken. You have granola bars in your desk to tide you over. "Wouldn't do to eat too much. I'd risk a post-lunch nap."
Dr. Lewis says, "Very well. I understand and salute your dedication."
Thank Goodness
"Before you go, though," Dr. Lewis says, "please reach under your seat."
You should have known you wouldn't make a clean get-away. You slide fingers along the underside of your chair until you feel paper. An envelope. You pull it free with the quiet pop of tape letting go.
"Your faculty peer assignments," Dr. Lewis says. "I always pair new professors together so that they can support each other. Well, my administrative assistant does."
Oh No, This Is Like Getting a Partner in P.E.