Jerome checked his watch, and his eyes widened, but he didn’t rush away. Instead, he looked back at Deja as if waiting for her to dismiss him. He looked so amazingly young in that moment.

“How about you think about what Dr. Mendoza recommended, and then come to my office hours next week to talk,” she said; otherwise, Jerome would be at her office hours the next day with a pros and cons list.

He smiled at her and nodded. “Alright, I can do that. I’ve got a paper to write this weekend, anyway.”

Deja smiled, “Good. Now go, before you’re late.”

“Bye, Doc,” he said, already turning. “Bye, Dr. Mendoza.”

“Bye,” Alejandro called after him.

“Put a hat on,” Deja yelled, shivering as the wind blew, and flurries started to fall. Okay, maybe she could give them a little mothering.

Jerome didn’t turn around, but Deja watched as he dug his beanie from the pocket of his winter coat and shoved it onto his head.

She sighed in relief and then turned to find Alejandro watching her.

“You’re good at this. You know that, right?” he said.

Deja shook her head and started up the steps. “This is the job,” she said, deflecting.

Alejandro chuckled and jogged up the steps to open the door for her. “We both know that not everyone would care what Jerome majored in or about his mental health. This is the job, but not everyone’s doing it.”

Deja avoided his eyes as she walked through the door. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t accept it — she couldn’t accept the compliment — because at the end of the day she was worried that it wouldn’t be enough; no one would care that she cared about Jerome’s sleep schedule and if he wore a hat or about all the hours she spent career planning with him or her other sixty advisees. They both knew that Deja could be the best academic advisor and teacher — she wasn’t, but she could be — and the university could still deny her tenure because she hadn’t published nearly enough articles. Teaching and advising and service were most of her job but not enough to guarantee that she could keep it, and that incongruity was at least eighty percent of her stress.