“Doc,” someone called from across the cafeteria, cutting into Deja’s distracted thoughts.

Deja recognized that voice, and she wasn’t surprised that the person it belonged to had been able to spot her all the way across the lobby or that he’d yelled so loudly. She pretended not to hear the voice and stared at the kids behind the pick-up counter, willing whoever was making her drink to make it faster.

“Doc,” the voice called again, closer this time.

Deja was considering abandoning her coffee and rushing to her office to grab a free cup there — even though the coffee in her building was terrible — when something brushed her left forearm. She jumped and turned toward that touch, and her mouth fell open.

She knew it was him with barely a glimpse of his suited chest.

Dr. Alejandro Mendoza.

As far as Deja was concerned, Dr. Mendoza was the best-dressed faculty member on campus. She always marveled at how put-together he looked no matter the time of day or season, or even when he was walking across campus between classes. He looked like a dapper runway model instead of a History professor at a mid-tier university in the Midwest.

Deja’s eyes traveled up his body, appreciating his tweed earth-toned vest over his denim button-up shirt and dark blue tie. She gulped as his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his mouth seemed to curve into a smile. Her eyes skimmed over his nose, and then she met his eyes and found him staring at her with a playful smile on his face.

In Deja’s mind, the entire world slowed to a snail’s pace as she catalogued every millisecond of this moment like she’d done so many times before. It was kind of sad, but Deja thought it was possible that staring at Alejandro was the only time her brain stopped running stress laps. She let herself just enjoy how gorgeous he was and how warm she felt when he sometimes looked at her this way; as if the two of them were sharing…something, even though they were really just ships passing in the sea.

Time sped up as Dr. Mendoza and Dr. Sheila Meyer, chair of the Department of History, stepped into the coffee shop line. Dr. Meyer was speaking excitedly to Alejandro, and if she noticed that he didn’t seem to be paying close attention, it didn’t stop her. Just like the fact that it was untoward to stare didn’t stop Deja from doing just that. She angled her head so that she could watch him out of the corner of her eye, hoping she wasn’t being as obvious as she felt.

“Doc, there you are,” the voice said from right next to Deja.

When Deja turned, she came face-to-chest with her favorite but neediest advisee, Jerome Miles.

“I was calling your name, Doc.”