She sighed. “My name’s not ‘Doc,’ Jerome. You know this,” she said for the hundredth time since she’d been assigned as his academic advisor.

“Deja,” another voice called from the pick-up counter. This student, though, said her name like “dee-jay” instead of “day-juh.” She sighed again.

“What’s up, Jerome?” she asked over her shoulder as she grabbed her coffee from the pick-up counter.

He followed her and snatched a few napkins from the dispenser and handed them to her. She didn’t need napkins, but she accepted and slipped them into her shoulder bag, nonetheless.

“I need some help,” Jerome said.

Deja steered him to the small counter with sugar and creamer. “Help with what?” she asked and tore open a sugar packet. She dumped it into her drink but then remembered that the Faculty Senate meeting was two and a half hours and ripped open another.

“Okay,” Jerome started, “so my Stats professor, Dr. Rincorn, is trying to get me to switch my major, but I really like Sociology, and I like you.” He paused to give her his best grin, a move she’d come to expect when he asked her for any kind of advice — which classes to take, which professors were best, her thoughts on his research projects, and morning versus evening courses. Deja assumed that he’d learned as a kid that the right smile could get him nearly anything he wanted because they accentuated his big cheeks and dimples. She just bet the move worked like a charm on his mother. Deja, however, was not his mother, so she shifted her weight onto her other foot and frowned at him.

“You know I love stats, right?” he asked.

Deja quirked an eyebrow at him. Jerome loved every class, every subject, every professor. He was naturally inquisitive and enthusiastic. There was a reason he was her favorite advisee. But she knew where this conversation was going because they’d been here plenty of times before.

“What do you think about me double majoring in Sociology and Statistics?” he asked.

Deja stirred her drink, replaced the lid, and straightened her back as she looked up at Jerome because he was nearly half a foot taller than her. She took a deep breath to settle her thoughts, and her eyes wandered around his broad shoulder to Alejandro and Sheila in line.

As soon as her gaze settled on his profile, Alejandro’s head tilted slightly, and his eyes found hers. He nodded at whatever Sheila was saying, but his eyes bored into Deja’s, making her body warm all over. She imagined that she saw some new warmth in his eyes — maybe even a naked desire that mirrored her own. Big mistake. She ducked her head to look at her toes in her favorite pointed booties and tried to get herself together.