Denial

“Stop it.”

Her head tipped back slightly, and her oh-so-innocent wide eyes locked with mine.

“Stop it, I said.”

A pause, during which I didn't breath. Decades later, a smile danced across her face and she stepped even closer. I was barely aware that my desk was already pushing into my legs; I couldn't retreat any further. Excuse or luck, take your pick.

“I heard you Professor, I just didn't believe you. Bit hard to while you're staring at me like that.”

Continue staring and I'm damned, look elsewhere and I admit to it. “I'm not staring. I'm looking. It's polite. Standing...-” There seemed no point in finishing the sentence. Alright, that's not the truth. The words just died in my throat, that's all. She was right there, right in front of me, standing, looking up at me, there.

“Right, it's polite. So why are you so much more polite to me than anybody else?” She cocked her head to the side and tried to look confused. It was an expression she didn't use much, being so damn smart. “Look. I know it, and obviously you know it, so how about you stop pretending? It was cute at first, but I'm sick of waiting. I'm not all that patient.”

I couldn't help but let out a strangled laugh at that, at the same time as she took my glass out my hands and put it on the desk. “That's an understatement.” Amazing. A word of more than one syllable. Too bad my hands were now trembling. I shoved them in my pockets. “Go.”

“Now that's not polite. I haven't got what I came for yet.”

“You're not going to get it.”

“Why not?”

God. Why was she doing this to me? My legs still feeling like statues, the obvious 'walk away from the problem' tactic was not an option. Instead I crossed my arms over my chest and dragged my eyes to the door instead. “Go, before you make even more of an idiot out of yourself.” The only idiot around here was me. Whatever way this played out.

“You're not a very good liar, you know. Good thing you never finished that law degree.”

I opened my mouth to come up with an equally stupid reply, but her raised hand stopped me.

“Pointless,” she stated cheerfully, with a shake of her head. She took the final step toward me and I felt a surge of irritation. Why wouldn't she listen, I had said stop. Multiple times. I could not and would not do this. I shoved myself off from the desk and stepped to the side. Several large steps.

“Don't forget your bag.” I gestured to the chair where it lay abandoned. No doubt she was like that with everything. Use, throw away, expect it to still be there when she wanted it again. Everyone was, she'd be no exception.

She stood there for a moment, hand on hip, wondering if I was serious. Situation reversed. Apparently I looked more serious about it than I felt, for she grabbed the bag and finally, mercifully, walked to the door.

I ignored the urge to slam the door shut and push her up against it, and gave her a nod instead. “Goodbye.” I tried to make it sound final but she smirked.

“See you,” she said pointedly before shutting the door behind her.

I hoped that was a promise.