Serpentine Walls by CJane Elliott

Pakistani mother, and Pete wondered how he had ended up at U.Va. Undeniably handsome, with cinnamon-brown skin, big dark eyes, and a mustache, he stuck out like some exotic creature here at Mr. Jefferson’s University.
    “All right, everyone, let’s get started,” Professor R said, his British accent only adding to his mystique.
    Pete glanced over at Angie and smiled at her starstruck expression. He hit her foot with his, making a face at her.
    “Quit it,” she hissed and turned her attention back to Professor R.
    Professor R launched into a description of the class curriculum and requirements, and Pete had to admit he seemed intelligent, even brilliant, just in what he was saying about the class, and he made a few jokes that had the students laughing.
    After about fifteen minutes of Professor R talking and answering questions, he wrote his office hours on the board. “These are my formal hours, but feel free to drop by if you’re in the neighborhood. I’m happy to talk with you if I’m in, and if you’re lucky, you might even get a cup of tea.”
    A few of the girls tittered, Angie among them, while Pete tried not to roll his eyes.
    “Okay,” Professor R continued, “there are a few other things to cover. A couple of you wanted to talk to me about pursuing independent study projects. Who is that?”
    Angie raised her hand, along with a guy slouching at a desk in the corner.
    “Very good, you two see me after class. Lastly, as some of you know, I sponsor a student-teacher film fest every year at the end of March. If any of you are interested in submitting a short film for that, let me know and I’ll give you the list of requirements. You’ll earn extra credit in this class, even though the film fest is next semester.” He smiled. “Don’t ask me how I manage that.”
    “You’re totally doing that,” Angie whispered to Pete.
    When Professor R ended class early after giving them their first reading assignment, Angie and Pete approached him and waited as he talked with a few other students.
    Finally, he turned to them with a suave smile. “Hello. And who do we have here?”
    Pete nudged Angie, who seemed to be dumbstruck. “Oh. Hi, I’m Angie Miles. Professor Douglas recommended I speak with you about my independent study project.”
    “Ah, yes, Claire mentioned you,” Professor R replied, taking her hand and giving a slight bow, which caused Angie to blush scarlet. Pete could hardly believe this guy was for real—he was like something out of a nineteenth-century English novel. “I have time to meet with you now, if you’d like to come to my office.”
    “Um, sure.” Angie giggled nervously.
    Professor R raised his eyebrow at Pete. “And you?”
    “Uh, yeah, hi. Pete Morgan. I’m interested in doing a film for your film fest.”
    “Oh, excellent! Have you ever made a movie?”
    “No, but, um, I’m going to be getting some help from one of the TAs for the filmmaking class.”
    “Who is that?”
    “Matthew Layton.”
    “Good choice. Matthew has produced some fine films.” Professor R plucked a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to Pete. “Here’s the list of requirements. Let me know if you have any questions.”
    Their fingers brushed as Pete took the sheet, and he got the distinct impression from the way Professor R’s eyes flicked down and then up that he was checking him out. But just as quickly, the moment passed, and Professor R’s attention was back on Angie and the other student who wanted to talk to him about the independent study projects.
    “Let’s go to my office.” Professor R escorted them out of the room.
    “Bye, Pete!” Angie called over her shoulder.
    “Later.”
     
     
    P ETE hurried down the sidewalk and yanked open the door to the bagel shop. His music class had run over and he was twenty minutes late meeting Matthew. Wanting to kick himself for wasting Matthew’s time, he scanned the place and saw him at a corner table, earphones on, staring at a