“A 70!?”

Jane Gallo grimaced. A 70 set her back in her application for the Holloway grant. Sure, it was just a quiz, but it felt like a bad omen of what was to come for the rest of the semester. Stupid Intro to Econ. Stupid Mike Lewis. Why was some cocky grad student teaching her in a class crucial to the grant? And she’d seen the way his eyes would roam over her body as he droned on for far too long about supply and demand. What a creep, she thought. Almost without thinking, she pulled her school pride sweater closer as she imagined the way he’d smirk at her as he visually undressed her. She shivered.

I just need an A! Why can’t he just be normal? Who puts a question on Ricardian Equivalence on the first quiz of the semester? I just need to set the record straight with him. Help him set expectations. Maybe it’s the first time he’s taught? Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Suddenly, the answer seemed obvious. Yeah, I’ll just go to his office hours and explain how important this class is! He obviously thinks I’m cute, so what if I use that? The ends justify the means! She smiled to herself. That grant was as good as hers.

Later, she knocked on the door to Mike’s office. More like a broom closet, she giggled to herself. Obviously Mike didn’t have the cachet with the department if this is where he had been set up. After a second, the door opened, and Mike Lewis squinted down at Jane, a smile growing on his face.

“Ms. Gallo! What a treat to see you!” Mike said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I’d like to discuss the quiz from this week.” Jane smiled up at him. God, he’ll be eating out of my hand by this point! She could already see his eyes drop down to her chest.

“Ah yes, the quiz. You got a 70 if I remember correctly? Not bad at all. Please, come in.” Mike ushered her into the cramped room. Stray papers, post-it notes, and coffee cups littered the office. God, does he ever have anyone in here?

“Yeah, it’s just that, well, a 70 won’t do for me, Dr. Lewis.” Jane tried to flutter her eyelashes, then realized she hadn't attempted anything this flirtatious since the Grade Ten dance, when she'd spent half the evening trying to catch Danny Richards' attention.

“Please, it’s Mr. Lewis, or Mike. I’m still working on my degree! Well, I’m sure there will be a bell curve adjustment. Turns out the quiz might have been a little difficult…” Mike trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

“Well, Mike, I would appreciate that. You see, I’m in the running for the Holloway Grant and it’s just that -“. Mike interrupted, “you’re very driven, aren’t you? I knew plenty of girls like you when I was in undergrad. Always looking forward to the next thing. Just never taking the time to enjoy their time at university”.

Jane felt Mike's attention on her. Heat crept into her face. She couldn't quite explain why his smile unsettled her.

“Listen, Jane. University is about fun. It’s not all ‘go, go, go’. Take the time to relax.” One corner of his mouth curved upwards. Jane blinked. It was something in his cadence. Nice. Calming. Mike bent down to grab something out of his desk. Jane exhaled in surprise. A metronome? She’d seen one like this before, years ago while learning piano. Why on earth would Mike have a metronome when he didn’t even have the space in this broom closet?

“I know you’re not happy about the grade. We can call this one a wash, chalk it up to miscommunication. But, can I show you a strategy I used all through university to nail every single assignment I had. It’s all about mindfulness. All about focus. You see, each assignment has its own push and pull. Its own back and forth.” Mike set the metronome off. The metronome dominated the room, each click impossibly sharp in the small space. Without thinking, her eyes tracked the metronome's swing.

“Back and forth. The assignments come easy when you just focus on the rhythm - you are focusing on the rhythm, aren’t you?” Mike’s words were starting to fade into the background. She grunted her approval as it took more and more of her effort to keep her eyes open. She was just so tired. Her world narrowed to the metronome. After only a few moments, her eyes burned with the effort. Mike’s words droned on.

"Back and forth."

Click.

"Good."

Click.

"Thinking is hard."

Click.

"Rest is easy."

Click.

"You've worked so hard pretending."

Click.

"You don't have to pretend anymore."

And then, silence. The metronome paused and with it, Jane felt her thoughts pause.

“That’s right Jane. I think we need to make some changes to you. For your benefit, of course. I’m your teacher! You trust me, don’t you?”

The reply came automatically. “Of course, professor. Of course I trust you.” She could barely hear her voice, it was so meek and placid.

Mike no longer looked like the patient teaching assistant who'd opened the door. “Good. I think the grade on your assignment suggests you really aren’t cut out for this whole ‘academic life’, don’t you think? And with a body like yours, I don’t even know why you’d bother. Ditzy bimbo seems more up your alley Jane. You know, sometimes people cling to identities that don't really fit them. I don’t know why you think you could be prim and proper miss goodie two shoes. You've spent so much energy trying to prove how clever you are. But, at the end of the day, you’re just a little ditzy slutty college girl, eager to please her professor.”

Her thoughts dissolved into a pleasant haze as Mike continued to dismantle her confidence. “But, no…professor…stop.” “That’s right Jane. You can feel it, can’t you? Who needs to actually study for an assignment when you can just come to my office afterwards and get ‘extra credit’? And you’re going to be the best little bimbo there is. I know you’re too competitive to not try your hardest, especially when your precious little grant is on the line. Just think - it’s comparative advantage. You don’t have the smarts to win that award, but you definitely have the tits to convince your professors to give you the grades anyway”.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Jane’s consciousness faded away, Mike’s words taking root in her brain as her eyes finally slipped close. She wouldn’t remember what he said.