Campus was usually busy at the beginning of the year; for a couple of weeks, it almost seemed like a big city school, bustling with activity as everybody settled into new schedules. It was always noisy and stressful, and it was a short time where I felt like any other student. Blending into a busy crowd was always a welcome relief.

This year, unfortunately, was a little different.

I could feel the silence like a weight on my shoulders as I walked across the campus courtyard, my fingers tightly clenching the strap of the messenger bag looped over my shoulder. The usual crowd had dwindled to a few small groups of students, and their gazes followed me even when I kept my head down and tried to avoid catching their attention. I’d been chased by the whispers for years, but they seemed louder than usual.

Flinching when I heard my name clearly, I quickened my steps to get past the group of athletic looking young men who were glaring daggers at me. I could guess what they were saying, and I wasn’t interested in hanging around to hear it for the hundredth time. It was easier to ignore them all; I’d done it for years. It was easier when I was an outsider.

I forced out my held breath as I opened the door to the humanities building, reminding myself not to let their behavior bother me. Getting angry didn’t change anything- it just fueled the rumor mill. Whatever they said, I couldn’t let it affect me.

At least not as much as getting an early morning email did. Seeing the urgent message from Professor Douglas had pulled me out of bed earlier than I hoped, and was the reason why I had to make the trek through the courtyard alone. I adjusted the crumpled strap I had abused on the walk as I paused in front of a door with a bronze nameplate.

I stared at the professor’s engraved name before I forced myself to knock. 

"It's unlocked!" The professor’s voice as he invited me to come in was warm, and too bright considering how early it was. 

I opened the door and managed to smile. “Good morning, Professor. You wanted to see me?”

The office was small and well used, the professor sitting behind a large, carved wood desk and surrounded by overflowing bookshelves. The only thing visible of the man was his worn, brown dress shoes propped up on his desk and gray hair as he leaned back in his chair; the rest was hidden behind the morning town paper. 

Professor Douglas folded the paper down to reveal his blue eyes peering at me over his reading spectacles. "Ah, Mr. Weir. It seems you've made the paper… again." He slapped the paper down on the desk so I could read the headline of the article. "Local suspected sorcerer key to college boys' disappearance… What do you make of that, Mr. Weir?"

“I think the town reporter has been into the wrong kind of herbs again,” I answered, my tone dry. My jaw was tight, and I tried not to let my fists ball up, reaching for the newspaper which had me dragged out of bed. 

The story typed across the page didn’t surprise me. I’d been expecting it to pop up eventually, and the only unusual thing was that it had taken a few days for it to reach the front page. Collin had, after all, disappeared over the weekend. One of his teammates had reported it the next morning, and when he didn’t show up for practice, what was assumed to be a hungover mistake, quickly turned into a missing persons case.

I set the paper back on his desk, shaking my head. “This has nothing to do with me."

"Nothing to do with you?" Professor Douglas folded his hands together, resting his chin on them. "Your name is splashed all over the paper. If you were just a student maybe it wouldn't be something to take notice of, but you're my teaching assistant, Mr. Weir. And that means not only does it have to do with you, but it also has to do with me. Our students have to respect you, not question if you're some kind of ridiculous mythical sorcerer!"

"Sorcerer," I scoffed at the term, "And what kind of ‘sorcerer’ am I supposed to be? They’ve gotten really desperate if this is the kind of drivel they’re coming up with now.”

The man looked at me for a moment, reclaiming the article as if he were looking for something. "This happened on your night off, didn't it? Met the boys in town?" He looked up at me, his face turning from frustration to worry. "They give you trouble?"

“Nothing happened!” I looked away from him, trying to hide my aggravation. “At least not anything I would make somebody disappear for- even if I could, which I can’t. It was… nothing I’m not used to.”

He sighed, folding his arms across his sweater vest. "Unfortunately, there are sinister ways even us mere mortals can make people disappear." He looked troubled by the notion, shaking the idea away as he stood. "If you ever get into any trouble, I want you to call me. No more skulking off in town by yourself in the middle of the night. You need to have an alibi. Especially if this gets blown out of proportion, which by the looks of this headline, it has. Are we agreed?" 

“You can’t be serious.” I was losing my patience, and it wasn’t entirely his fault. This wasn’t the first time superstitious people had tried to blame me for something strange that happened around the college or in town. But blaming me for some drunken idiot wandering off was going too far. “I told you, this has nothing to do with me. People talk, they always have, and they won’t stop if somebody can speak up for me- it’s never made a difference before.”

I was well aware of how bitter I sounded, and that it was probably rude, but I hadn’t expected to be ambushed by the professor and his gossip rag. “None of this will interfere with my work. I take this job seriously, and I wouldn’t put that at risk over some petty disagreement with another student. I swear, nothing happened, and I won’t do anything that reflects badly on you.”

"Oh goodness Lyn, of course I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about you, my boy!" 

His earnest expression put a damper on my anger, guilt and embarrassment creeping up behind my irritation. I lowered my gaze, grinding my teeth as I fought back the urge to argue. I knew he had picked me out of several applicants because he liked me- and I had only applied to be his assistant because I’d enjoyed taking his class. For anybody not used to the gossip and whispers, it would have been easy to see he just wanted to keep me safe.

Sighing, I picked up the stack of papers at the front of his desk; they were waiting to be prepared for the morning lecture, and were perfect for getting my mind off our conversation. “Thanks, Professor Douglas,” I muttered. “I’ll be okay. And by the time you’re finished reading the newspaper, I’ll have these ready for you.” I made myself smile, again, past my turbulent emotions- hoping he would dismiss me without any more attempts at counseling. 

The professor looked down at the paper before smiling wearily at me. "Thank you, Lyn. I'm not young like you anymore. Just remember one thing," he sat back in his chair, folding up the paper and throwing it in the bin behind him, "you are invaluable to me." 

“Right– because who else would do your paperwork for you this early in the morning?” I said lightly, knowing it would make him laugh and alleviate the remaining tension before I left the room.