How alike are they to each other? If you have brothers and sisters, which ones are you closest to, and why? And your friends. Why are they your friends? Is it because you have similar interests? Similar ways of thinking? Similar patterns of behavior?
“Or do you enjoy being around people who are different from you? If you’re an introvert, do you gravitate toward people who are outgoing? Chatty? Social? If you’re an extrovert, is your partner an extrovert as well? Or does he or she complement you by being perfectly content to sit in the background and let you shine?
“What do you think, people? Like attracts like, or opposites attract?”
Sheila stopped and scanned the room. Several hands were raised. She pointed to a young man in a plaid shirt and horn-rimmed glasses. “Mark. What do you think?”
“My girlfriend is the exact opposite of me.” Mark’s lazy voice barely carried through the large lecture hall. “She’s short, I’m tall. She’s smart, I’m not.” The class laughed appreciatively. “She questions everything, whereas I mostly take things at face value.”
“Very good,” Sheila said with a smile. “So opposites attract as far as you’re concerned, at least in terms of personality. I’ll come back to you in a second. Anyone else? Priya?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, but I know I’m drawn to people who are like me.” Priya was a pretty girl with jet- black braids who always sat in the third row. “I don’t know if that makes me boring, but I always have a lot in common with my friends and tend to shy away from people who seem too different.”
“Which is a common thing, actually.” Sheila clicked the small remote control in her hand. The large screen changed to show a picture of smiling, similar-looking people attending church. “Think about all the social groups out there. School clubs. Organizations. We’re drawn to people who are like ourselves, people who have the same beliefs, because most of us just want to belong. It’s human nature.”
Her eyes passed over Ethan’s face. He was smirking. Suddenly her throat felt a bit dry. Sheila paused to take a sip of water from the stainless steel bottle she always kept on the desk in the lecture hall and forced him out of her mind. “Now let’s talk about appearance. Mark, you said your girlfriend is short and you’re tall. But what does she look like? Facially?”
Mark’s eyebrows furrowed in thought behind his glasses. “Um… she has blue eyes, like me. People say we have the same coloring. And both our noses are crooked.”
“How about you, Michelle?” Sheila looked directly at a student in the front row. “What does your boyfriend look like? Does he sort of look like you?”
Michelle, a blonde with huge blue eyes, giggled and blushed slightly. “Yeah. People think we’re brother and sister.”
“Gross!” said a male student from somewhere in the middle of the lecture hall. The class erupted in good- natured laughter.
“Folks, this is not uncommon.” Sheila forced a smile. “So here’s your homework assignment for the week. I want you to think about all the couples you know-could be your parents, grandparents, even celebrity couples-and consider their appearances. Think about what they look like, and conclude whether these couples look more the same than they do different, or more different than they do the same. Also, think about the people you find yourself attracted to. Girls and guys you’ve had crushes on, or dated. What did they look like compared to you? Similarities? Differences? Next week we’ll compare notes. I’ll be interested to know what you’ve discovered. Thanks, everyone.”
Time was up. The room grew loud as students shut laptops, shoved books into backpacks, and flipped open cell phones.
Sheila downed the rest of her water and stuck the hard steel bottle into her leather bag. Valerie Kim and Caroline Stevens immediately approached her to ask if she needed help getting prepared for next week’s class, something her TAs typically did before leaving the lecture hall. She assured them they were clear, and they left Sheila alone to pack up her briefcase.
She was painfully aware of Ethan’s eyes on her. He’d made no attempt to leave the room and was still seated in the same spot he always occupied during her lectures-front row, right side, the desk closest to the podium. The last couple of weeks had been torturous. Having to stand in front of two hundred students knowing that one of them had a video of her naked, writhing, and covered in sweat? Forget painful. It was humiliating.
A student approached as Sheila was snapping her briefcase shut. She smiled to hide her annoyance. Leanne had been peppering her with questions lately, clearly a type A student who needed clarification on every test and assignment.
“Of course everything we talk about in class is subject to examination,” Sheila said to the gangly student again, who had her pen and notebook ready in case she needed to jot something down. “As I said last week, Leanne, everything is testable. Class discussions, assigned reading. Even the footnotes.”
“The footnotes, too?” Panic filled Leanne’s brown eyes, which were already comically wide. “Oh my God.”
“I’m kidding.” Sheila placed a hand on the sophomore’s skinny arm. “A little professorial humor. Of course not the footnotes. Leanne, don’t fret so much. If you’ve done all the assigned readings and haven’t missed any lectures, you’ll be fine. And don’t forget to talk to your TA. What’s your last name again?”
“Armstrong.”
Sheila’s reassuring smile wavered slightly. “Then your teaching assistant is Ethan Wolfe. He’s your first source of information. Don’t be afraid to call or e-mail him, or drop by during his office hours to ask him questions. That’s what he’s there for.”
She pointed to Ethan, who appeared to be having an intense discussion with a doe-eyed female student who’d taken a seat next to him. Another coed hovered nearby, waiting her turn. Ethan had always been good with the girls.
“Um, Dr. Tao?” Leanne leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I did e-mail Ethan last week. Twice. And I called. And when I went by his office yesterday, he wasn’t there. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him for over a week. And I’m not the only one.” Leanne looked over her shoulder. “I’m not trying to get him in trouble. I know he’s supposed to handle these types of questions. But he hasn’t been available. Otherwise I’d never bother you with it.”
Sheila thought for a moment, then patted Leanne’s arm again. “Of course it’s not a bother. You can come to me anytime. I’ll check with Ethan today and see what’s up, maybe his schedule’s out of whack somehow. I trust everything’s going well otherwise?” The brightness in Sheila’s tone was forced.
“Everything’s fine.” Leanne’s dark ponytail bobbed up and down. “Great class, Professor. See you next week.”
Sheila started shutting down her laptop. The PowerPoint presentation on the screen behind her disappeared. Slinging her bags over her shoulders, she risked one more glance at Ethan, only to find him staring at her again. He was alone now, books in hand, about to pack up his own bag.
A trio of students still lingered in the lecture hall, chattering loudly in one of the aisles. Hesitating, Sheila walked toward Ethan, her insides tight.
She couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time.
“Professor Tao,” Ethan said as she approached. His light gray eyes crawled over her face, missing nothing. “Great lecture today. Very engaging. Even learned something new, though of course I took this class as an undergrad. You have such a refreshing take on classic theories.”
Always the terrific bullshitter. He usually got away with it because of his good looks and cocky demeanor. But today, the very sound of his voice made her want to throw up.
“We need to talk.” Her voice was low. She was hyperaware of the three students still chatting about twenty feet away in the otherwise empty hall.
“Oh?” He continued to study her. “About anything in particular?”
“You know exactly what this is about.”
“Let me guess. Leanne Armstrong tattled on me.” He finally broke eye contact to glance at his watch. “Can this wait?”
Unbelievable. He knew damn well this wasn’t about Leanne. Fine, he wanted to play it that way, so be it.
“No, it can’t.” Her voice was still quiet, but she spoke with authority. “Whatever the hell’s going on between us, you still work for me, and you still need to do your job.”
Ethan laughed, and the sound echoed in the large auditorium. He didn’t care who might be listening. “You’re ballsy. I always liked that about you. Always so professional.”
