Tobias Miller's POV

"Very well done. Now all I need, is for you to put this down on paper. You're moving in the right direction, you just needed that little push" I tell one of my students, Kasey.

She's been struggling in one of my modules, so before I even had the chance to call her to a tutorial, she asked me for help.

Kasey is not the smartest, but she's the best kind of student.

She sees her weaknesses and tries to get help for it, rather than being a student that gives up and then blames me for not teaching well enough.

Now I am aware that there are a lot of lecturers that aren't great at teaching.

They are academics and they're still studying themselves!

But I put in the effort.

A lot of effort.

And that's why my class has a 95% pass rate.

That percentage would be higher, if I didn't have to factor in the amount of people that drop out, are in and out of my classes and the students that get kicked out or have suddenly bereavements.

So all things considered, I'm a good lecturer.

"So what d'you do with this equation?" She asks, jabbing the white board with the marker.

"Will you pass that to me, please?" I ask, stretching my hand out for the marker.

She hands it to me and I stand up, letting her move out of the way.

I draw an arrow to a gap in the equation.

"You just plug the equation in right here using brackets to expand it and you're sailing" I say.

Her eyes light up with recognition.

"It makes sense!" She says.

I hold up my hands and she double high fives me with all her might, making me laugh.

She'll be absolutely fine.

I get a knock on my door, probably from another student.

"Come in!" I call.

A short Arab girl with a dark green hijab walks in with a bright smile on her face and an envelope in her hands.

"Aksha" I greet with a smile.

Aksha is the smartest kid I've met in a very long time.

Besides my nieces and nephews, of course.

Those pikin will rule the world some day.

I turn to Kasey.

"I want to see your examples of the calculation after class on Monday. if you need any help, email me and I will get some more examples for you, as soon as I can" I tell her.

She nods and starts to pack up her stuff, while Aksha approaches my desk.

The girls say bye to each other and Aksha sits opposite me, waving the file in my face.

"I have a present for you!" She says, practically jumping in her seat.

"Yeah?" I ask, taking the envelope and carefully opening it up.

I push my glasses up my face.

"It seems important.

I say.

"Just open it!" She responds.

So I do.

I carefully read its contents and my eyes widen.

"Aksha this is an acceptance letter to work on a project, funded and run by MIT!" I nearly yell!

"Exactly!" She screams excitedly.

"Oh my gosh, this is amazing kid! Well done!" I congratulate her.

She stands up and grabs my shoulder.

"My parents are coming down from Qatar in a couple of weeks to throw me a celebration dinner. You should come!" She says.

Before I can open my mouth to protest, she cuts in.

"I'm a graduate so you can't say no to me. And you'd better bring a date." She says to me.

I stare at her.

"A date?!" I ask.

She rolls her eyes.

"Yakhi is that the only thing you heard me say?" She asks.

"Wear something nice. I'll email you the time, date and address!" She sings, spinning on her heel and walking away.

"Aksha, I can't-"

"This is the only form of congratulations I'll take. My parents want to pick your ginormous brain again" she says, opening the door, walking out and closing it again.

Ah so that's what this is about.

Aksha's father is a huge physics nerd. Her mother too.

We met briefly during her undergraduate graduation

I sigh to myself.

Why do I keep getting roped into these things?!

As big as I am, there should be a spine in there.

I sigh again and I gather my things, making my way toy office.

I mentally calculate the amount of work left for me to grade and how quickly I can get it done, before I go home for the weekend.

I hate doing work outside of college hours.

It makes me overwhelmed and overstimulated very quickly.

The anxiety that follows it doesn't help either.

I politely greet some of my colleagues back as I make my way and once I'm in my office, I put my jacket and bag in their designated spots by my door and by my desk, respectively.

I sit down and I pick up my neatly stacked 'marked' file and I put it in one of the drawers my desk has, locking it away, so that once I continue marking, I can make a new piling system.

I put some music on and I pick up the first exam sheet.
****

I'm part-way through my final exam paper, when my phone rings.

I almost ignore it until I see the name.

'Mama'.

I pick up the phone and I smile, as if she can see me.

"Ma" I say, putting the phone on loudspeaker and then next to me gently.

"Hello baby genius" she says softly.

I chuckle.

"At my 'following Noah onto the ark' age, you're still calling me that?" I ask.

"Listen aged 5 or aged 29, you and your siblings will always be my babies" she coos, making me smile.

"Yes ma" I respond.

"Now aside from that sappy shit, I have a favour to ask of you" she says, getting straight to the point and I nearly choke on my spit.

I don't think I will ever get used to my mother swearing.

After all the years of putting everyone, including but not limited to my father, in terrifying headlocks for cussing, you would think that my mother was one of the saints.

But no.

"What d'you need ma?" I ask.

"Your father's 58th birthday is coming up and I be was thinking about throwing him a surprise party" she says.

I notice a hint of shyness in her voice and I stifle a chuckle.

30 odd years later, and my parents are still like teenagers with one another.

My dad would unzip my mom's skin and live there if they made an invention for it.

He still surprises her with random gifts and brags about her to his friends over drinks every time they're out.

And my ma...

Well if devoted ever needed a definition, it would be her.

When his mother, my late grandmother got sick, my mother immediately had someone drive her and my grandfather to the hospital and gave them the best room in the building.

She would then cook in huge batches and take it to my grandparents while they focused on my grandma getting better.

She on but later died in her sleep and dad was so heartbroken that he couldn't do a thing!

But mum stuck with him.

She made him eat and even bathed him when he felt so weak that he couldn't even do that.

My parents are one in a million.

"Your siblings are on location and design. I need you on catering" she says.

I nod as if she can see me.

"How many people is it?" I ask, pulling up done of my notebook and writing.

"20-30 people" she replies.

"Okay. Send me a list of the guests and I'll make some calls for you." I say.

"Thank you baby. Will you be coming to dinner after church this weekend?" She asks.

"Yes mama." I respond.

"I love you" she says.

"Me too" I respond.

"Say it back" she responds.

"I love you too" I say, stifling a laugh. It's been like that since we were kids.

She always made me and my siblings say it back.

She said that 'you never know when the end is, so you have to say it'.

We hang up and my mind immediately starts to think about who I can get for this job.

I pick up my phone and I dial a number.

"Doc" someone responds.

"Idris" I greet.

"I need you to send me a list of your best catering teams. My ma has me on job to get that done." I explain.

"Fuck the list. My wife's cousin is the best. I'll give you her number" Idris says.

I sigh.

"Your wife's cousin?" I ask skeptically.

"Absolutely." He responds.

"You've got 1 minute. Pitch" I say.

"I'll take 30 seconds. She's was in charge of food for the senator's event you just came to. Guests? 700. Food, 5 star. 4 courses. No shortage of drinks. Refunds? Nil." He says.

I think back to the food at the event.

He's right.

The food was amazing.

We had four courses of spectacular food, from the entrees down to the desserts.

There were non alcoholic drink options, a halal menu and a little bit of something for everyone.

Everything was perfect.

I continue replaying the details in my head, when I remember that one of the people working for the company spilled a drink on me.

I found out later that same evening that the woman who spilled it was the boss.

She apologised to Ximena a million times in my absence and after realising that we knew each other.

I chuckle to myself, imagining her adorable self getting panicked and apologising like that.

She really did me a favour if I'm honest.

That spill meant I wasn't stuck around those people for any longer than was necessary.

Men sizing me up or trying to get me to invest in their businesses.

Women flirting to no end or trying to set me up with a friend or daughter.

I sigh and snap out of it.

"Send her my details." I say.

"Alright doc, I will." He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

We exchange pleasantries for a bit, I ask if he's coming to dinner on Sunday and we hang up.

I put my graded papers in my desk draw and I head out of my office, locking up.

I think about the girl again.

She's stunning.

She has dark skin and her skin is like a marble, making it very evident that she looks after herself.

Her hair is an almost unnoticeable shade of dark blue and although it was tied in a puff but I can tell she has a lot of it.

She's obviously shorter than me.

Maybe 5'8.

And she's chubby, which means that she's my type.

Her full dark brown lips look like they're meant to smile and her pale brown eyes are bright and alert.

She's stunning.

But for her sake, I will be a professional.

The last thing she needs is a man that will hyper-fixate on her and creep her out.

I sit in my car and turn my thoughts to something else.

My cat, Brook, is definitely yowling and nothing right now, waiting for my attention.

I built her an automatic feeding machine so she gets fed when I'm not at home and she has plenty of toys.

But she's a spoiled baby.

Not that I mind.

I think I'll let her in the garden for a little bit longer today too.

For some reason, my mood has skyrocketed.

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