Page 21 of Rocker

I hesitate, lingering awkwardly in the doorway and trying not to stare as he calls out to me in a cool, flat voice. “Are you going to come in or just stand there?”

My face is suddenly burning with embarrassment. I step forward. “Jean said you needed my help today, Dr. Faust?”

Finally, he turns, and my chest constricts as my eyes meet his bright blue ones. “I needed you here twenty minutes ago, but I suppose now will do.” He gestures to a tall stack of papers on the corner of his deck. “My TA is out sick. I need you to grade these.”

Oh no. Oh shit. I gulp, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to avoid this without looking like the biggest idiot on the planet. “I’m not sure-“

“It’s idiot proof.” Dr. Faust cuts over my feeble protest, opening the drawer to his right and taking out another sheet of paper. “Simply make sure the students have the correct formula. There are no partial points.”

I don’t know what to say or do except move forward to take the papers from the deck, heart thundering in my chest. I’ve never been asked to do anything like this before, mainly because Jean knows me and doesn’t put me in situations where I’ll struggle. I spend most of my time at this job organizing the supply closet or setting up labs. Not grading tests that I’ll barely be able to read.

The prospect of failing at this, embarrassing myself in front of Dr. Faust…

I’m trying not to cry by the time I take a seat at one of the empty worktables and gaze down at the answer key. Letters and numbers swim before me, mismatched and nonsensical. My hand trembles as I bring my pen to the first test, glancing up despite myself to see Dr. Faust watching me, frown still firmly in place.

I look back down quickly and hesitantly begin.

I’m not at it long. Only a quarter of an hour could have passed before I see Dr. Faust rising from his desk, likely drawn by the very slow scratching of my pen. He moves silently across the room and around my table, standing beside me and leaning down to see what I’m working on.

He’s so close that I can smell him, and I inhale greedily, savoring the scent of aftershave, clean cotton and something else that could only behim. I’m so distracted by his proximity that I jump when he speaks.

“Is this a joke?”

I look up sharply, fear, anxiety, and embarrassment rising inside me. “I-“ I don’t know what I’m going to say, I don’t know what I’ve done or if I’ve made a mistake or-

“Just leave.” Dr. Faust sweeps the tests and the answer key off the table, striding back to his desk, jaw set. “You’re a college senior, aren’t you, Miss. Riley? Don’t you know how toread?”

I feel his words so strongly he might as well have hit me with them. I grip the edge of the table, frozen in shock and humiliation.

“Um.” My eyesight blurs, and I look away, staring blindly at the fire extinguisher on the wall. I won’t let him see me cry. I won’t. “I’m sorry. I haven’t taken biology and-”

“I don’t need your apologies.” Snaps Dr. Faust as he drops back into his chair. “I need you to be even moderately competent.” He drops the papers back onto his desk with an audible thud. “You’re dismissed. Tell Jean to find something for you to do that doesn’t require more than two functioning neurons.”

I don’t return to Jean’s office to get my coat or book bag. I don’t talk to anyone. I barely make it outside before the tears come. Ducking along the side of the building, I press my back to the brick, taking deep, steadying breaths and trying to steady myself. It’s nearly nightfall, and the campus is quiet, most of the student body having left for Thanksgiving break after their last exams. Nobody sees me wiping my tears and trying to piece my broken heart back together.

Dyslexia.

It’s what’s wrong with me, the thing that’s made every day of my life a struggle. If I’d come from a good family, if either of my parents had given even the slightest shit, I might have gotten therapy early. There are early interventions and things that could have been done so I didn’t turn out likethis.

Nearly every single person in my life thinks I’m an idiot, and it’s a special kind of humiliation to know that Dr. Faust has joined that very long list. Dr. Faust, who is a world-renowned scientist and researcher. Dr. Faust, whom I know, through extensive cyberstalking, obtained his doctorate at only 26. He’s written papers, books, given lectures. Hell, he has a Ted Talk.

I never expected him to like or even notice me, but I’m good at my job. I’m quick and efficient. I help things around the department run smoothly. Jean likes me. I thought I’dat leasthave his respect.

In my pocket, my phone buzzes, and I hurriedly wipe my eyes, pulling it out to see a familiar number. My heart, miraculously, sinks even further. I press accept.

“Hello.” Says a pleasant, robotic female voice. “You are receiving a collect call from Washington State Correctional Facility. To accept the call, press one.”

I give a watery laugh and, knowing this day couldn’t possibly get any worse, hit one.

Almost immediately, I hear a familiar voice. “Hello, little sister.”

Despite myself, I smile. “Hello, big brother.”

Benny laughs, and I can hear voices talking loudly behind him. “How’s college life?”

“Shit,” I reply easily, sinking down against the building and hugging my knees to my chest. Even though he’s across the country, there’s a comfort to hearing my brother’s voice. He’s five years older than me, old enough to protect me from the worst of our mom’s crap. I know he got it worse than I did. “How’s federal prison?”

Benny snorts. “Shit. Want to trade places?”

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