TWENTY-FOUR: I Want You As My TA Next Semester

"You don't have class?" I ask, walking over to the side of the counter opposite from Harlan and leaning my elbows on the table top, batting my eyes at him.

"I don't," he says, dog-earing a page on his book before shutting it altogether. He places his forearms on the counter too and stares back at me. "Not until this afternoon. I trust you don't either, or you would have prepared. You know, like setting an alarm?" he eyes me knowingly.

"I have class at noon... okay, and a class at nine."

He cocks his head and looks at me, judgement plain in his eyes. "You can't expect to do well on your final if you're skipping class a week before, Shaw."

"Newsflash, Harlan, it's intro to bio, so I was never gonna do well on it in the first place."

Finally, he cracks a smile.

That leaves me and him just looking at each other. A calm silence. Morning sunlight streaming through the window. A kitchen that smells like freshly brewed coffee.

"We've got a lot to talk about today," he says, pushing himself off the counter once the sound of streaming coffee finally fizzles out.

He turns around and grabs the other coffee cup, sliding it across the island towards me and leaning back against the other counter along the wall. He crosses his arms.

Suddenly, I feel that maybe the peace is disrupted.

I feel myself tense up, feeling the beginnings of my stomach twisting into knots. A familiar feeling since I'd started seeing Harlan. If I can call it "seeing" him.

He is going to tell me that last night could never be repeated. To get out of his clothes. That I'm never allowed to sleep in his bed ever again.

I drop my gaze to my cup, focusing on the soft brown colour of the coffee, bringing the mug to my lips just so I can look at something other than him.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, taking a drink.

"You have finals in a week."

I nearly spit on my drink, my eyes flashing back up towards him. "Thanks, dad."

He tilts his head and looks at me with unamused eyes.

"I really need you to never say that ever again," he says, taking a drink of his coffee as well.

"I haven't forgotten about my exams," I say.

He crosses his arms, eyeing me like he is a strict parent. Or maybe just an overinvolved, extremely invested professor.

"I haven't!" I insist when he doesn't say anything.

"Just because we're seeing each other doesn't mean I'm going to grade you easily," he says flatly.

I narrow my eyes.

"If anything, you've shown me just how exceptional you are. And I'm going to continue to expect great things from you."

I suppose that is fair. He is already tutoring me, after all. There isn't much point to that in the first place if I don't even use the skills he is teaching me. Why even try if he is just going to hand everything to me on a silver platter? At least this way, I seem to truly impress him.

Damn right.

"Then maybe a few more sessions beforehand would help, if you don't mind," I say. "I want to be ready. I want to be so sure I'm ready that there's not a single chance I won't completely destroy everyone else."

"It's not a contest."

"It's a contest to see who's the best in class, and I'm winning."

"I'm glad to finally see some more determination in you, Shaw."

"What can I say?" I grin. "You bring out my competitive side."

"Why's that?"

"Because," I say, slowly stepping around the island. He glances down at my bare legs as soon as they are in his line of vision. "The thought of a single other person taking away even the slightest amount of your attention and pride makes me want to commit murder," I purr, slipping my hands into his waistband, cool fingers coming into contact with warm skin.

Noticeably, Harlan straightens and tenses.

I smirk and yank him against me, hips brushing against mine. I hear him inhale and it makes me smirk harder.

"So what do you say?" I breathe, lips tilted up towards his. "You have time for a couple of extra study seshes?"

He swallows thickly.

“I think I could squeeze you in," he mutters.

"Or, alternatively," I say, "we could just give me an A the old-fashion way," I tease, pulling my fingers out of his waistband and teasing his crotch. "Theoretically, what would one of these get me?" I ask, pressing my palm against his bulge.

He narrows his eyes at me.

"B plus," he says, face stoic and serious, before it breaks into an adorably irresistible grin.

I snicker and wrap my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his chest. He wraps an arm around me.

"I promise I'm not trying to fuck you for better grades."

"Remind me what you're fucking me for, then?"

"I guess I just kind of like you a little," I say, pulling away and placing one hand on my hip and the other on the counter.

Harlan turns his attention back to his coffee, taking a drink and pushing his glasses up the rim of his nose.

"There's another matter we need to discuss," he says nonchalantly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his email app.

"And what's that?"

"I want you as my TA next semester," he says without looking at me.

"What?"

"I'm doing a lecture course on literary analysis next term. You already know the material well. You'd be a perfect match for my purposes," he says, pocketing his phone once he'd scanned through his emails, undoubtedly just making sure that nothing pressing has come up.

"That's a 400-level course," I tell him.

"So you'll be the envy of every senior who still can't write as well as you," he says, finally directing his attention back to me, tilting his head, examining me curiously.

“That’s a 400-level course,” I repeat, dumbfounded.

"I'm well aware of the levels of the courses that I teach, Shaw.”

I don’t say anything.

“I'm confident that you are fully capable of what I'm asking you. I hope you say yes," he says, before picking up his book and heading out of the room and towards the staircase without another word.

I stand there alone, silently, brain swimming, for just a few moments.

And then I find myself chasing after him once again.

"Harlan, wait!" I call, practically running after him as he heads up the staircase without even looking back. "Harlan, come on, you can't be serious."

"I'm always serious," he responds without looking over his shoulder. "Get your things, we need to get back to campus."

"Harlan!" I yell, finally catching up to him at the top of the stairs and grabbing his wrist.

Finally, he turns to look at me. He looks amused. I'm somewhat less amused, although whatever domestic bliss I'm playing at is undoubtedly delightful. I'm sure that he doesn't have any intention of making me his housemate, but hey, it is fun to pretend.

"I really don't think being your TA is a good idea."

"If you don't think you can handle the material, you're not giving yourself enough credit."

"I know I can handle the material," I say. "I mean... us."

Harlan doesn't say anything. And his expression reveals even less than his silence.

"I just mean that... if something happened with us, something bad, then that would leave us both in a pretty awkward situation for the rest of the entire school year."

"So you're planning on revoking your attraction to me, then?" he scoffs.

"I'm not planning on changing anything," I challenge, crossing my arms. "You on the other hand... you're about the single least predictable person I've ever met. I mean... sometimes I feel like how you feel about me changes from one day to the next."

I sigh. It’s hard to try to predict how he would respond and not get nervous about it when he constantly looks like he has just learned a family member has been brutally murdered and his life purpose is achieving their revenge. He also kind of looks like he is always about to punch someone in the face.

That slow, simmering intensity is just a part of his neutral existence.

"I know exactly what I want," he says deliberately and darkly, slowly taking a step forward and making me gulp. "Take the position. It will be a great thing to have on your resume, especially at such an accredited institution. It could lead to bigger things, Eden. And better positions. You should consider your future when thinking about whether or not you're going to accept my offer. And I can't wait for an answer forever. I have to have a TA on file by the end of the term."

I sigh, and stop protesting.

Maybe this is the right move to make. And spending the semester with Harlan is hardly something to complain about.

"Get your things," he says, continuing down the hallway. "And I'll call my driver for you."

I ball my fists and give myself a micro, internal pep talk.

"You drive me," I blurt.

He stops in his tracks and turns back to me, expression quizzical. Like I've lost my damn mind.

"And if someone sees us? Vance?" he snaps for emphasis, cocking a brow. As if I need reminding.

"Then you'll just tell him you were getting coffee with your new assistant."