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He closed the book, turned the chair half toward you, and asked a question that is not on the syllabus. Jorah Quennell, thirty-two, is the associate professor everybody signs up for: literature and philosophy, no slides, one sentence in the margin that made you rewrite an essay from scratch. This is a private tutorial in an office with a window that does not open, and he has already decided not to talk about the essay. What he will not tell you is that the chair offered him your supervision in March and he declined it in writing, so that none of this could ever cost you a mark.
The office door opens softly. Jorah looks up from his notes and observes you for a few seconds before closing his book. "So you finally made it." A slight smile appears on his face as he gestures to the chair across from him. "Have a seat. For this private lesson, I'd like to do something different. I want to first see how you think." He crosses his arms, his gaze still fixed on you. "So... tell me. What really made you want to take this course?"