A few days ago they announced around the dorms that some computers had been stolen recently and we need to watch out, keep our eyes open. And these two . . . their car, Professor, that’s not a faculty car, not an administrator’s car either; surely not a student car. A black Cadillac? Give me a break, Professor. My father is a mechanic, I know something about who drives these cars, and when I came up, just seeing your face I knew something wasn’t right.

My face?

Not exactly a poker face, Professor. Let’s just say in Vegas you’d be broke in an hour . . . and I sit for hours looking at you every week. You pick up stuff about people, you know. I know my test scores are not—how should I put it?—Harvard-level, but that’s because I don’t really like to read. I don’t like to study much. Actually I took this class just because I needed the hours and it fit my work schedule, you know. I’m not really into psychology. Helping people with their problems, that’s not my thing. I like bikes, to work on old bikes, you know. Anyway, are you OK?

The psychologist nods: Yes, yes. These guys, there’s some issue in the clinic, but it’s OK now.

You sure?

Yes, yes.

Where are you parked?

In our lot; here at the back.

Come, I’ll walk you to your car.

Thanks, but there’s no need. You’ve helped enough, really.

So you’ll give me an A in the class? He laughs.

I don’t give the grade. You earn the grade. You’ll get what you have earned.

I’m just kidding, Professor, Eric says. I earned my C+ with hard work and determination.

Yes, yes, the psychologist sighs, really, you should go home now. I’m all right. I don’t need an escort.

No big deal, Professor, Eric says. I just want to make sure your car starts. Are you still driving that old thing?

The psychologist nods.

They walk together to the parking lot. The night is quiet and cool. The psychologist gets in the car and starts the engine. Eric leans down by the window. Are we going to see you at the wedding? he asks.

Wedding?

Jennifer, she invited the whole class. Didn’t you get an invitation?

Ah, I’m not sure, actually maybe I did, yes, I put it in my office somewhere, I completely forgot.

You should come, Professor, Eric says, she’ll be happy.

Ah, in principle I don’t usually . . . well, we’ll see. I’ll think about it.

Don’t think too much, Professor, just roll with it.