The classroom subtly tensed at the mention of recording devices, self-awareness and the invasion of previously assumed privacy caving in postures or stiffening jaws. In a brief exhale of time, some retroactively worried, others felt indignation churning in their guts, but all remained uncomfortably quiet.
The idea of staying in close quarters with the very same man that inspired these feelings, however, received more vocal reception.
"
Hell no."
"
I'm sure there'll be no cameras this time..."
"
What, am I a fucking third year again?"
"
Only if you can summon the treadmills back."
"
I—I have an appointment in three days, though..."
Responses of varying volumes peppered the background of the professor's explanation. As he reached his conclusion, Helen scoffed under her breath, "
So all the shit before this was pointless? Great."
As the class found their voices, however, Olivia slipped into quietude, finally giving in to her urge to write if for no other reason than to make a packing list.
- Toothbrush/toothpaste
- Face wash
- Lotion
- Deodorant
- . . . . . - —
Yet as soon as she started, her list began to trail off in absentminded marks, her thoughts drifting to properly consider the situation she found herself in. In the mornings, she'd have to sleep through Ryan's 5AM workouts and hope that Helen's half hour skincare routine would leave her some time to get ready for the day. She'd need to make sure Marina took her medicine on time, and to keep an eye on Angier so he didn't drink whatever stock of alcohol he'd inevitably bring all in the first day. At the very least, she figured she could depend on Callum to provide coffee and some semblance of stability.
But the professor? She couldn't even begin to fathom what he'd bring to the table.
Seven days. She'd stayed in worse hostels, with worse people, she supposed. Though her knack for diplomacy would inevitably come in handy at least once or twice.
As she tuned back into the world around her, the shuffling sounds of people grabbing their bags and making their way towards the door spurred her to begin to do the same. With her notebook propped against her ribcage and her bag slung over one shoulder, her pen clicked as she continued her list and milled out with the rest of the class.
It didn't surprise her that Marcus and Alfred had already left the hall, but her lips thinned in concern all the same. Maybe a text or two to check in with them would be warranted, once the dust settled. Another list titled "To Do" began in a column next to her packing list.
With just enough awareness devoted to her surroundings, she navigated her walk home without issue or anything of note until she fished in her pocket for her flat key. Her phone buzzed against the metal.
The key slid into the lock as she glanced at the screen.
>>Hey, wanna celebrate our incarceration w/coffee?
A smirk crawled onto her lips as she tossed her keys into the bowl by the door.
<<Going to need something stronger than that, if that's what we're doing.
>>Fair. Drinks the night b4 then, to mourn our short-lived freedom
<<How tragically fleeting. I'm in.
>>U sure? Ur still stuck with me for a whole week after this yknow
<<Trust me, you're not the one I'm worried about being stuck with.
Olivia drifted about her nightly routine between taps on her screen. Eventually, the screen's light glowed in the dark bedroom where it laid on her chest, slowly rising and falling in sleep.
~~~
Her first day of freedom was spent hunched over her desk at the ministry, her waste bin littered with crumpled papers and her current victim riddled with scratched-out words and sentences.
Though she hadn't seen the professor all day, he remained the source of her headaches and current confounded state. Describing the lessons she'd learned or the skills she'd gained the past few weeks had been quick and painless. This had easily been the most useful and thought-provoking bit of professional development she'd gotten to experience in her career.
But describing the methodology? The
curriculum? That was the part that left her banging her head against the wall. If her report remained faithful to events, the professor would undoubtedly end up flagged for some sort of disciplinary review. Yet there seemed to be no way to tweak his methods to be more "board approved" and still produce the same results.
The puzzle snitch grew another feather, her absentminded fiddling now turned to genuine attempts to solve it as her focus drifted further and further away from her Herculean task.
The most useful class, and yet she couldn't properly share it with the world, couldn't explain to others how to teach a class like it. Her conclusion, after several hours, was disappointing.
It needed to be taught by Sherlin. There seemed to be no way around that.
"
Shit."
The feathers fell from her snitch again. The paper on her desk joined the others in the trash.
"
Okay, let's try this again…"
~~~
For Olivia’s second day of freedom, she decided to relax in earnest, burned out from her marathon attempt at working yesterday. Though "relax" for her still ended up being a myriad of chores and errands, trying to prepare for her time away.
Her time away, and one other event that night.
It was just drinks with a friend, but she still found herself fretting over her outfit choice and the state of her makeup for far longer than she cared to admit.
"Then I'd like to get to know you more."
It
wasn't just drinks with a friend, but she continued to check things off her to-do list all the same, trying to ignore the clock as it ticked on by.
Her sister always helped with that. With scattered conversation through the day, time passed a bit easier, until their catching up brought Olivia to the big reason she wanted to chat with Kaia.
<<Hey, I just wanted to let you know tomorrow I won't have access to my phone for a week, but I love you and I promise I'm not dead!
>>what
>>lies
>>super secret magic spy stuff
>>always dangerous
>>if you need help the codeword is always porcupine
<<It won't be anything like that, I'm just going to be stuck in class the whole week.
>>what??? like whole day night cycles or just really busy???
<<Both, I guess. We're all going to be locked in together as a part of our final bit of class.
>>wait
>>waitwaitwaitwait
>>youre locked in a room
>>WITHTHEHOTTEACHER???
<<Kai, it's just class.
>>ohmygoddd youre living in a fanfic
>>a seven minutes in heaven fanfic
>>A SEVEN DAYS IN HEAVEN FANFIC
<<Kai, absolutely not.
<<The rest of the class is there, too.
>>YOU HAVE SPECTATORS???
<<KAI. NO.
Olivia huffed a burst of air through her nostrils, her eyes rolling as she pocketed her still-vibrating phone. A smile crept onto her face despite her best efforts. With one more glance at the clock and a not-so cursory glance in the mirror, she slipped her shoes on.
She'd been to this pub before, a quiet little nook nestled amidst a row of quaint shops long since closed for the evening. An elderly couple sat in companionable silence at a table, while a few men carried on with a deep conversation at the bar. On the far end, she spotted the broad shouldered ginger just a moment before his face lit up. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled as he waved her over, the sweep of his gaze down and up her form giving her the slight bit of satisfaction knowing that her earlier efforts hadn't been wasted.
"
Hey," Callum greeted as she settled down into the stool next to him, "
good to see you. Been making the most of your freedom?"
"
More or less," she shrugged, "
I've never been good at having downtime."
After a few quick words with the more-salt-than-pepper bearded bartender, she held her old fashioned aloft as it softly clinked against Callum's glass.
"
Here's to surviving the week with our sanity intact."
"
Last push."
A short silence signaled the first gulp of the night before Callum sighed, his posture slumping.
"
I wonder what rooming with our dear old professor will be like."
"
He's a human like anyone else, it can't be that notable. He'll eat, sleep, and go to the restroom like any other person."
"
And yet, I can't exactly imagine that guy strolling around a Walmart."
She shrugged. "
I feel like that's how a lot of students see their teachers. It's nothing out of the ordinary."
He leaned against the bar, turning to level her with a look of disbelief. "
Come on. You're going to look at the man that teaches like that and tell me he doesn't have any domestic quirks? No morning yodeling session or a hit of hard drugs to start the day? Not even an obnoxiously loud CPAP machine?"
To her, the professor's ways to start class
had to have been the start of his oddities for the day. Between the class that started with a cold water plunge to the one that involved an elaborate tea ceremony, she couldn't imagine them having been his
second event of the morning. If he woke up with something entirely different before his usual beginning-of-class chaos...
"
...We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Callum leaned on his elbows, tipping his glass back and forth. "
I think the most normal outcome would be if he just, y'know, went into a closet and powered down at the end of the day."
She snorted. "
He's not a vacuum."
"
I know! Just saying, him being a robot would be the least surprising outcome."
"
And what would be the most surprising?"
A crease formed on his brow. "
If he's somehow entirely normal. But that's just not happening. I mean, I feel like he's on a non-zero number of watchlists."
"
Well, who knows? Maybe all of the eccentricities are just a teaching tool to keep things unpredictable, get us off balance. Maybe he's just a passionate teacher that goes home to unwind on the couch with a beer and a TV dinner. Maybe he even has a spouse."
Their eyes met.
"
Nah."
Laughter burst out of both of them as Callum shook his head. "
You bailed on that idea immediately."
"
I know, I know. I guess he seems more like a "married to his work" kind of guy to me."
"
Can't argue with you, there. I'm not sure many ladies are lining up to be with that kinda guy, anyway."
"
Eh, being passionate about what he does isn't the worst thing in the world."
Callum raised an eyebrow. "
So you're first in line?"
"
N-No!" Olivia stuttered in surprise, raising her hands defensively. "
Just saying, it's not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, I think I've always been in a similar vein." Her finger began to trace the rim of her cup. "
My work takes me all over the globe. I love what I do, but my sort of lifestyle doesn't quite jive with many partners. Maybe the professor has something similar."
"
Maybe, but he doesn't have the excuse of being away all the time like you." His head tilted in her direction. "
If you'd even view it as an excuse, anyway. Maybe you're perfectly content with the way things are?"
"
I am." The response came quickly. She took a long drink. "
But…that doesn't mean I don't ever look at the grass and, you know, wonder if it's greener elsewhere."
"
Well, sounds like you'd travel somewhere and find out."
"
You know the traveling's the problem here, right?"
"
Then maybe you stay put. Right here."
Their eyes met, and whatever she saw in his had her glancing back down at her glass. "
That—That's usually not up to me. I just go where they tell me."
"
What's the longest you've ever stayed in one place?"
"
Aside from when I was a kid? Hm..." Through the pleasant haze of another sip, she dug through her past. "
Two years, in Uganda."
"
Just two? You really have been everywhere, then."
"
More than most."
"
Tell me about them. Your favorite places."
This time when she looked at him, at the earnest interest warming his features, she didn't look away. The stories flowed, from Tokyo to the Himalayas, all of the places that blurred by in her life. His own stories captured a much slower pace, a smaller scale—the creek down the road from his parents' place, the first time he ever stepped into a big city. Experiences that stuck with him far more than her overload of events tended to latch onto her. It was endearing, to imagine a quiet life. Maybe not something she'd genuinely choose for herself, but nice to think about all the same.
Their conversation carried well into the night before she finally caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. She slid her empty glass away. "
Well, it's getting quite late. We should probably be well-rested for whatever'll get tossed our way tomorrow."
"
Ah, right, I still need to pack."
She balked. "
You haven't even started?"
"
Always been terrible at procrastination." He shrugged. "
Mind if I walk you back?"
Her eyes narrowed. "
Another procrastination tactic?"
"
Only partly. Really, I just don't want to leave you yet."
The admission kept her distracted enough for him to slide his card to the bartender, paying for both of them without the chance of her protesting. As she reached for the door, he caught her hand and opened it for her, gesturing broadly. She walked through with a grin. He kept her hand in his.
Conversation sparsely cropped up in their journey, sensing the hushed blanket nestled over the city at night. The yellow glow of the streetlights warmed the cobblestones, slightly shiny from a drizzle of rain that passed a few minutes earlier. A few cars and people milled by dark windows and closed shop signs. The lights from the flats and the houses began to flicker out.
They stepped up to the door of one as Olivia finally withdrew her hand to dig into her pocket.
"
Thanks for the drinks, Callum," she said. "
I'm paying you back with coffee tomorrow."
"
I don't get to argue with that, do I?"
"
Nope."
Her key twisted in the lock, very aware that he hadn't moved. They stood in a beat of heavy silence until she gathered the courage to look back at him.
He caught her eye before glancing away. "
…Olivia, I…"
She swallowed her heart back down her throat, stepping closer. His hand gravitated up to rest on her arm. Whatever he tried to say couldn't make it past her lips.
As she drew back, his grip on her arm tightened, mouth trailing after hers, seeking. "
…Can I at least argue for where I drink the coffee?" His voice came out rough, gaze drifting to her door.
"
Hm." The doorknob turned. "
I'll hear you out."
The lock clicked behind them. The lights didn't turn on.
~~~
The alarm on Olivia's phone went off at the expected time. She'd planned just the right amount of minutes for them to have a leisure cup of coffee, then Callum would go home and pack while Olivia showered and got ready for the day.
What she didn't expect, however, was Callum coyly asking to join in her shower. It wasn't until the shock of now-cold water pattered onto her shaking legs that she realized she had planned
very poorly indeed.
After a lingering kiss that threatened their remaining time, Olivia all but shoved him out the door to get his bag while she hurriedly re-checked her list and finished getting ready for the day. Things could still go according to plan. And they were, except for her damned hairbrush.
Shit. She must have already thrown it in her bag somewhere. That meant she'd either have to spend precious minutes dismantling her bag to find it and put it all back together, or…
Her feet plodded over to the dresser. She had another.
Just for a quick brush. Just to get the bedhead look out, the disheveled bit of frizz and tangle from—
Nothing, from
nothing, she resolved before she opened the drawer and ripped her cautionary sticky note off the hairbrush. Her breath stilled, all of her focus going into trying to think of absolute blankness. Not about the day ahead, not about her work she'd been stumped on, and definitely not about the
nothing she'd been up to last night and this morning.
After a few yanks through her hair, she breathed a sigh of relief and haphazardly tossed the brush back into her drawer. With her last hurdle jumped, she slipped on her shoes and headed out, back on track at last.
A few minutes before class began, she walked in, bidding a good morning to anyone she passed. Callum walked in with a minute to spare, the very tips of his hair still damp and clinging together as he exchanged pleasantries with Ryan. His eyes flickered up to Olivia, offering the same salutation as he made his way over to his desk.
"
Good morning."
And it was a good morning—a normal, uneventful morning, before a regular, unremarkable day.