Office Hours

A Box of Pasta

Ethan cracked his knuckles, like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I… I was hoping you could maybe help me,” he said quietly in this deep voice. I’m kind of uh… slightly stuck in your course, so I was just wondering if you could tutor me.”

Elara looked up from her papers, calm and collected. She didn’t even hesitate.

“No.”

He blinked. “I… I just…”

He tried to explain that he was struggling with the course, that no matter how hard he tried, the material just wouldn’t stick.

The truth was, he probably wasn’t incapable. He just hadn’t been trying. Literature had only started to matter because she was teaching it, and that wasn’t something he could admit out loud.

“I really want to pass,” he said quietly. “I… I just don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I don’t usually tutor students privately. I try to keep clear boundaries with my classes.”

He exhaled, defeated. But he tried again, hoping to convince her, careful not to seem desperate. “I really want to pass. I… I just don’t get it.”

She recognized him. One of those students whose name seemed to come up often around campus as popular and usually surrounded by people. Beyond that, she didn’t know much about him. Right now, all she saw was a student asking for help.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally said, just for him to leave.

Ethan nodded, lips pressed together, and turned toward the door.

Just then, the door opened softly, and Mr Dorian stepped in with a box of creamy pasta and a milkshake. He wore a light blue collared shirt with dark trousers, simple and clean. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, about 5’11 with sharply handsome face.

One of the history lecturers, he moved through the space like he belonged there. His eyes found Miss Elara immediately, with a small smile on his face as he set the food down on her desk.

“Oh,” Elara said. “Mr Dorian, hi.”

“I noticed you weren’t in the cafeteria. It was about to be closed, and I assumed you might be busy. So, I brought this for you.”

A strange feeling settled in his chest. He couldn’t quite name it. He had no reason to care who brought Miss Elara lunch… so why did it bother him?

Elara’s smile was subtle. “Thank you so much. I didn’t even know it was closing soon.”

He set the box gently on her desk, milkshake wobbling slightly in the cupholder. His eyes flicked down at her, scanning her reaction. Ethan could see it clearly from where he stood. She accepted it warmly.

He had no reason to stick around. So he quietly stepped out, leaving the office door ajar as he exited.

Once Ethan was gone, Dorian leaned against the edge of her desk, and lowered his voice.

He raised an eyebrow. “What was he doing here?”.

“He just came by to ask for some notes,” she said defensively.

Dorian shook his head. “Just be careful with him,” Dorian said. “He’s had a rough time here. He was suspended last year after getting caught with drugs.

His attendance has never been great, and he has a reputation for getting into trouble. I just don’t want you getting caught up in any unnecessary drama.”

Elara pressed her lips together. “He’s just a student, I’ll be fine”. She said firmly, no reaction.

“I’m just saying,” Dorian replied gently. “Just wanted you to know.”

He glanced at his watch. “By the way, there is staff meeting, 2:30.

Elara nodded. “Okay.”

Dorian gave a small nod, then turned to leave. “Alright”.

Elara gave a small wave.

Elara stared quietly at the box of pasta, her thoughts drifting back to Ethan.

The student Dorian had described didn’t quite match the young man who had stood awkwardly in her office, struggling to ask for help.

She had always believed people were more than their worst mistakes. Maybe he really was trying. Maybe he just needed someone who believed he could do better.

Against her better judgment, she found herself reconsidering his request for private tutoring.