She laughs a little. Moving towards the light panel she enlightens me. "Dr. Masen, I knew you before I even started working with you. The mean, persnickety professor. The one who's only lenient if you're dying or close to it."
"Do people still say persnickety?"
She shoots me a look, not amused. "Yes, we literary students who don't care, use words like persnickety." She shakes her head. "I'm just saying, you make it known that you only tolerate the human species. At least those that you don't know. Professor Whitlock seems to be an exception."
I consider her words. Truly. That doesn't account for something else though.
"Angela. If that's the case, then why do people still try to engage me in conversation?"
Closing the door and walking out together, we hold our perspective things as we exit the building.
Walking towards the parking deck, she informs me that there are several bets on whether or not I'm a psychopath, sociopath, or something in between. Whatever that means.
She also lets me know that many people think that I have a secret life that's too dangerous to let people in.
Surprisingly, my students are the ones who apparently have more sense.
They just think I'm an ass who's better preparing them for their career.
Eh. They could still do better.
"So, Edward. How is everything? You haven't called that often between sessions."
Never looking up, still writing on his pad.
34, 35, 36, 37…"Pretty good."
He waits a beat. Abruptly putting down his pen, he looks up at me with squinted eyes.
"Pretty good?"