Chapter 51 Her smile lines
Chapter 51 Her smile lines
Jane threw her speaking notes onto the lectern beside her and strode forwards to the edge of the raised speaking platform. Row upon row of faces were arrayed before her, reaching well above her head in the packed lecture theatre.
“There are no absolutes in the interactionist perspective of sociology,” she said. “A person is not one fixed thing. We are millions and millions of versions of ourselves, depending on who or what we are interacting with. Let me give you an example: Right now, I’m here, up the front, with the room’s mics pointed at me, telling you things. In this interaction, I’m meant to assume you don’t know or understand anything I’m talking about.”
“I don’t,” a teenage boy in the fourth row called out, receiving a handful of tittered laughs.
“It’s all in the assigned reading, Brandon. You might want to check it out sometime.” Jane got the bigger laugh. “Our behaviour for the two-hour timeslot for this Friday evening lecture—which I’m aware overlaps with happy hour at Redroom, so I appreciate your attendance.” Jane paused for another laugh. “Our behaviour here is not governed by our innate personalities, impulses, or even our morals. We’re completing an interaction, and we’re all playing by the rules and expectations of this interaction. Well, except perhaps Brandon.”
Brandon raised both hands and nodded and grinned at his fellow students, turning all the way around to acknowledge the laughter from those in the nosebleed seats.
Jane smiled. “Can anyone else tell me an interaction where the rules mean you behave a certain way?”
Brandon raised his hand. “On a date with a cutie.”
Jane nodded. “Great example. The rules of romantic interactions are complex. You do things in these settings that you never do out in the world in other everyday situations. At least, I very much hope so.”
Another polite laugh, but the energy was flagging a few percentage points. Jane glanced at her phone on the lectern. “All right, we’ll leave it there. We can pick up on the interactions of romance next week.” She raised her voice over the general shuffle of tablets and laptops being put into bags. “For now, I’ll just make sure you know the most important aspect of the rules of dating. Let’s hear it from resident love expert, Brandon. What’s the most important thing? Give me the
He opened his mouth to shout a reply.
Jane held up an index finger. “Nope, the other
“Consent,” Brandon said, then stood and bowed to applause and a few cheers.
“Enjoy your Friday night, everyone. See you next week.”
Students walking across the front of the theatre on their way out thanked her and wished her a good weekend.
She put her printed notes in her bag and packed up her laptop, sighing as quiet descended and the energy in the room departed with the students. Some remnants of that energy still thrummed through her. A job well done. It was always a win when she could pull of the five-to seven p.m. Friday lecture, where the students’ concentration threatened to wander off at any moment.
Tonight was even sweeter because Amber was flying in at that moment, and she could pick her up at the hotel on her way home.
Jane grinned and hurried to pack her belongings away.
Footsteps echoed.
Jane looked up, surprised the sound was approaching down the lecture hall steps, rather than heading for the door and the campus bar a few buildings over.
A slight figure with a ponytail draped over her shoulder and a baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes reached the bottom of the stairs.
Jane was shocked with recognition a moment before the person pulled off the baseball cap with a flourish and tossed it to one side.
“Surprise,” Amber said, palms spread wide.
Jane’s eyebrows shot up. Happiness welled up in her chest, and she grinned, but the feeling was tamped down by a stab of anxiety. She roved her gaze once around the big hall. Nobody else there. “I’m meant to collect you at the hotel later.”
“I know. Teddy and I got to the airport laughably early. I was looking forward to seeing you, you know. So we were in the Qantas lounge, and they came up and tell us there are seats available in First on an earlier flight. So here I am. Is that OK?” Amber quit her “big reveal” pose, and a crease appeared between her eyes.
Jane opened her mouth and closed it again. Was this OK? It was unexpected, and she was caught off guard. But seeing Amber here in front of her set the molten-gold feelings swishing around inside her again. What was the harm? “Of course it’s OK. It was surprising to see you out of the blue. But good.”
Amber’s exhaled and dropped her shoulders. “I didn’t want to wait.” She was wearing the yellow T-shirt she had worn to Bill and Barbara’s house the day before New Year’s Eve. The one that clung in all the right places.
Jane’s breath got stuck in her throat and she coughed. She didn’t make a conscious decision, but her arms motioned forward to hold Amber tight. Before she could do more than twitch, a door banged open and a student bustled in.
“Oh, hi. Sorry, Jane. I think I dropped my phone next to my seat.” A student descended the stairs two at a time. “I think I was here?”
Jane looked down at the floor to give herself a moment to recover from the shock of near discovery. “Don’t apologise, Cassidy. You were sitting in the sixth row, I believe.”
“Yep, nice! Here it is. Awesome. Bye. Have a great weekend.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder and waved as she reached the end of the row. “Hold up.” She stopped short and wheeled around. She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together so tight, her mouth disappeared. “Are you…Amber Hatfield?”
Amber shot a look sideways at Jane.
Jane could only give the minutest of shrugs. No point in denying.
“Yes, I am.”
“Wow! You’re all over TikTok because of the Idol announcement.” Cassidy descended a couple of stairs. “I saw your Raise the Roof tour at Boondall. I was obsessed.”
“Aww, thank you. I remember it well. 2012. How old were you?”
“I was eight, I think. Oh my God! Can I get a photo with you? My cousin Gretchen is going to flip.”
Amber hesitated. She didn’t look at Jane, but the tension in Amber’s neck made it seem like she wanted to.
Jane leant sideways against the lectern. Talk about the interactionist perspective! Time spent with Amber so often took sharp turns when she was forced to step into her “beloved popstar” persona.
Right now, the stakes were low. Jane’s heart rate had steadied after the fright of Cassidy bursting in, nearly catching her lecturer in a compromising position. Now there was nothing to do but watch the interaction play out.
Amber ascended the stairs and took Cassidy’s proffered phone. “Wow! You’re tall. I’m going to stand up here on this step so we can be the same height.”
Cassidy’s delighted giggle reverberated around the hall. It was the laugh of someone who was eight years old again.
Jane supressed a smile.
After they took the selfie, Cassidy threw her arms around Amber and thanked her profusely. She ascended a couple of steps, then whirled around again. “Hey, wait. What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I…uh, uhh,” Amber stuttered.
Jane had a stab of conscience. Amber hated lying. “She’s looking for her niece, but came to the wrong building,” Jane said. “Her niece is studying…” Her mind went blank. Should it be something that sounds like sociology? Scientology? No!
“Molecular biology,” Amber said.
“Oh, you’re way off,” Cassidy said. “The labs are waaaaay over the other side.”
“Yes! Um, ma’am— ” Jane addressed Amber, wincing but recovering quickly. “I can escort you to the labs, if you would like?”
Amber, her back to Cassidy, puffed her cheeks out, fighting a laugh. “Why, how delightful!” With a huge grin, she turned back to Cassidy. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
Cassidy furrowed her brow. “Well, it was nice meeting you. Bye, Jane.” She took off, the door shutting behind her.
Amber approached Jane. “She must have realised happy hour was nearly done. Hey, I really enjoyed watching you, you know, do your thang. I don’t have as much control of my audience every set. You had them in the palm of your hand.”
Jane’s face went hot. “Thank you. It really means a lot to hear you say that. Young people are going to save us all. You know, this year I put in my lecturer bio about my autism, and the students didn’t bat an eyelid. Some of them have approached me, and we’ve had wonderful discussions about their own neurodivergence.
“The uni wanted me to keep it a big secret, but you have to give kids more credit. I love teaching. When it’s good, it’s the best.”
“Well, I think your students can tell you love it. Now, shall we away, noble escort? To the labs?”