Extra Credit

SMACK

My sneakers squeaked loudly against the floor, as I scrambled to catch my balance in the middle aisle.

Muffled whispers erupted from the back row.

"Get up there Chloe!" Sarah hissed from the corner, barely containing her excitement.

"I just know it! Mr. Vance is going to drop a pop quiz," Leo whispered from the row ahead, "Just convince him to postpone it."

"Work your magic!" Mia nudged my shoulder.

Before I could even strangle them, the heavy oak doors of the classroom swung open.

The teacher walked in and dropped his worn leather briefcase onto the desk with a dull thud.

He didn’t greet the class. He didn’t even glance at anyone else.

His eyes landed directly on me.

Dark circles shadowed his face; an average twenty-one-year-old, surviving on three hours of sleep, three shots of espresso, that somehow sharpened into a focused stare that pinned me in place.

I cleared my throat, "Good morning, Mr. Vance..."

"Good morning Miss Lane, what is it today?"

Smirks filled the area behind me. They just believed it. Rumors about me being this teacher's pet seemed to be true.

OBVIOUSLY, IT WASN'T!

I took a half-step forward, "As you know, we've had a rough week. Maybe postpone the test?"

He leaned against the desk, arms loosely crossed; a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Hmm,” he sighed. “Fine. But it’s going to be next week. No more excuses.”

A wave of relief exploded through the classroom.

Leo visibly relaxed. Sarah slumped back in victory. Even Mia gave a quiet thumbs-up.

I finally collapsed onto my desk.

Up at the front, Mr. Vance pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket and turned his back to the class to write the day's heading on the board.

That was, until the bell rang.

A sudden release of energy swept through the class.

“Looks like we’re getting an early break!” someone shouted.

The teacher froze.

His shoulders dropped slightly, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh. He ran a hand through his hair.

Chairs scraped violently, as thirty students scrambled out within half a second.

Almost.

Except me.

Because a hand caught my arm before I could move.

“You are not leaving, dear.”

His lips shaped in a smirk. Without a word, he pulled out a chair and practically sat me down.

"Could have fooled me, Miss Lane." His voice became softer now, "You managed to dismantle my entire lesson plan in less than thirty seconds. The rest of the class owes you their lives."

"They owe me a chocolate bar, at least," I muttered, crossing my arms. "But seriously, why did you stop me? I have places to be"

"You sit in the corner and stare out the window for half the day. You don't have places to be," he leaned a fraction closer, "I wanted to see if you actually studied for the test, you just postponed."

"I always study," I said, frowning slightly.

As I watched his fingers effortlessly spin the chalk- a sudden, dizzying sensation hit my brain. I had seen those exact hands do that before.

I shook my head.

“No, no,” I said quickly. “Are we starting or are you just going to keep pushing me? Everyone already thinks I’m your favorite.”

"Maybe you are," he quickly cleared his throat, pulling his chair forward a bit, "Your mind is a rarity, Chloe. I just want to make sure you don't waste it... on something else or someone..."

I scoffed.

“Sorry, sir, but I think this is a waste of time.”

I stood up and walked out before he could respond.

But for some reason I couldn't explain why my heart started racing.

***

"Mind if I sit here, Miss Lane?”

The school lawn was crowded for the mandatory outdoor track and field meet.

The air buzzed with shouting students and scattered applause.

I found a quiet spot on the lowest tier of the bleachers, my oversized sketchbook resting on my knees.

I didn’t look up immediately.

“I’m off the clock, Chloe,” Mr. Vance said as he sat beside me anyway.

“Why are you here?” I asked, still focusing on my drawing. “People are staring. If Sarah sees you—”

“Let them look,” he interrupted gently.

He leaned back, watching the field.

Though I could feel his attention fixed entirely on me.

“You used to hate running,” he said, “But you loved sitting on the sidelines with your camera. The best shots happened right when someone crossed the finish line.”

My fingers paused.

Does this teacher have a serious crush on me right now?!

“Think about it, Chloe,” he continued quietly, “The way I spin chalk. The way I know you take your coffee with exactly two sugars. The way you run when it starts to rain.”

He turned slightly toward me.

“It’s not a coincidence. We didn’t just meet in that lecture hall.”

I think this guy is a bit dazed.

“Listen,” he said, voice breaking for the first time. “I’m sorry about the accident. I’m sorry I couldn’t reach you in time. After you lost your memory… you moved away before I could even say goodbye.”

I froze.

"I know! But I studied hard, just to see you one last time! Come on! Please don't tell you forgot that!"

This guy has gone totally nuts!

In that exact moment, my sketchbook slipped from my hands, as his arms engulfed me.

"Chloe?!"

The sharp, high-pitched gasp cut through the air.

I violently shoved his chest, ripping myself out of his embrace.

Sarah was standing at the base of the bleachers. Her mouth was dropped so low it looked unhinged, and the two massive paper cups of iced coffee she had been carrying were tilting dangerously sideways.

Her eyes darted from me to my dropped sketchbook, and then straight to Mr. Vance, who was quickly smoothing down his dark pullover with trembling hands.

"Oh my gosh," Sarah whispered, "The rumors... they weren't just rumors."

"Wait, it's not what it looks like!" I panicked, scrambling down the bleachers so fast I nearly tripped over my own sneakers. "He was just—I dropped my book, and he—"

"Miss Lane stumbled," Mr. Vance interrupted, "I was merely ensuring she didn't injure herself on the metal tiers."

Sarah didn't look intimidated at all.

She simply grabbed my wrist with a grip of absolute steel!

"Right. Sure." Sarah said, sarcastically, "Come on, Chloe. Let's get you some... medical attention."

She practically hauled me across the grass, marching at double-speed.

"Are you insane?!" she hissed, slamming her iced coffees down on a study table, "The strict, terrifying, twenty-one-year-old prodigy professor just hugged you on the open lawn! Chloe, he looked like he was crying! What is going on?!"

I slumped against a bookshelf, hiding my face in my hands as my head began to throb with a sudden, blinding pain.

The fog in my brain was swirling violently.

Flashing images of wet asphalt and a boy's voice screaming my name.

"I don't know... he thinks he knows me, but it just does not make any sense!"

"Or maybe... like you know...."

"SARAH!"