3

Wednesday night came faster than expected.

I'd spent all Tuesday night rereading the syllabus like it was the Constitution. Karina roasted me for being "academically stressed" and told me I needed to chill before I gave myself a tension headache. She wasn't wrong. I just couldn't stop thinking about Kamala Harris and the way she'd dismissed me without a single look.

I wanted to impress her.

I hated that I wanted that, but I did.

So, this time, I got up at 6:00 AM sharp. No snoozing, no coffee disasters, no back-to-back traffic jams. I even got to campus early and sat on the lawn, rewriting the notes from Monday's class until my hand cramped. I was ready.

Or at least I thought I was.

Because the moment she walked into the classroom, the air shifted.

"Good morning," Kamala said coolly, setting her leather tote down on the desk. Her navy slacks hugged her hips just right,  and the soft ivory blouse she wore contrasted perfectly against her skin. She looked like she belonged in the White House. Not a dusty lecture hall.

The class answered back, but weakly. She didn't seem to care.

Her eyes flicked to me.

Brief. But there.

My heart flipped, just once. I quickly looked down at my notebook like it owed me money. She jumped straight into the lecture—discussing political ethics and moral obligations of elected officials like it was a light conversation. I tried to stay focused, but it was hard. Every time she turned toward the board, i found my eyes following the curve of her back. Her tone was calm, calculated, but occasionally sharp—like a blade wrapped in velvet.

I wasn't imagining it. The way she paused when she looked at me. The way her gaze lingered.But maybe I was.

When the class ended, I packed slowly, waiting for the room to clear. I didn't even now why I was still sitting there. Maybe I was hoping she'd say something. Maybe I just wanted to prove I wasn't scared of her anymore.

Kamala glanced up."Miss Green," she said, her tone unreadable. "A word?"

My stomach flipped.The last few stragglers walked out, and once the door shut, she leaned against the edge of her desk, arms folded.

"You seem... prepared today."I nodded, gripping my tote strap. "I am.""No traffic?""Nope.""No excuses, then?"I swallowed. "None."

She looked me over for a long moment, and I swore I could feel her dissecting me. Her eyes didn't roam inappropriately, but they lingered—especially at my lips. Or maybe I was just imagining again.

"Good," she said. "Because I'd hate to see you waste your potential."

I blinked. That was... almost a compliment.

" office hours are Friday afternoon," she continued. " You'll want to stop by. We'll be discussing your first essay topic.""Oh," I said, surprised. "I thought that wasn't due for two weeks?""It isn't," she replied. "But I don't like surprises. Neither should you."

With that, she turned her attention back to her laptop, clearly dismissing me. I didn't move. For some reason, I just stood there, frozen.

Her eyes flicked up again. "Was there something else?"

I shook my head. "No, sorry."

I turned toward leave, my pulse thudding in my ears. As I reached the door, I paused—maybe just to breathe—but she spoke again.

"Mariah."

My name sounded different when she said it. Softer. Still firm. But like she knew how to wear it. I looked back. "Yes?"

She held my gaze. "I expect great things from you."

That was it. No smile. No warmth. But somehow, it was the most intimate thing I'd heard all week.I walked out without saying anything, but the heat in my chest burned all the way back across campus._______

Later that day, I was walking through the law building—not for a class, just using the shortcut to get to the library—when I saw her.

Kamala. Standing by the vending machine.She was on the phone, speaking in a low voice. Something about scheduling. Something about "testimony" and "committee."

She looked powerful. Too powerful for this hallway.She glanced up and saw me.

I smiled before I could stop myself.She didn't smile back. But her eyes... they sparkled. Just a little.

She hung up the phone, stepped aside from the vending machine, and said, "I didn't peg you for the law school type."

I shrugged. "Shortcut."

She raised an eyebrow. "Shortcut or coincidence?"

I tilted my head. "Maybe both."

Kamala let out the tiniest laugh—low,  almost condescending, but it tugged at something deep inside me.

"You should go," she said, not unkindly."Why?" I asked. "Am I breaking rules?"

"Not yet," she said, her tone unreadable. "But we don't want to start that habit... do we?"

I froze for a beat.

And then I nodded. "Right."

I turned and walked away without looking back. But every step, I felt her eyes on me. And I couldn't help the smile that crept on my face.____________

LMAOOO,It's hard to see the frame when you in the picture.